Referências sonoras
Toru Takemitsu: Complete Chorus Pieces
O álbum compilado que eu costumava ouvir, com as obras corais mais notórias de Toru Takemitsu (1930-1996), era este, gravado pelo Coro Filarmônico de Tóquio em 2013. O compositor japonês de vanguarda nasceu em Tóquio em 1930 e trabalhou lá até o final dos anos 80. Suas ideias ajudaram a desenvolver a música eletroacústica japonesa e, quando se trata da integração da tecnologia à música clássica, ele foi o pioneiro no Japão. Embora suas obras corais não tenham recebido tanto destaque, minha relação com elas começou há quase 10 anos atrás, quando eu estava no ensino médio. Suas longas notas sustentadas, com articulações suaves e finalizações ressonantes, harmonias estáticas e atmosféricas, aliadas à sensibilidade na relação entre silêncio e som, tiveram um impacto enorme em mim. Soa maravilhosamente fantasmagórico e, como ele próprio adorava compor trilhas sonoras, isso me fez visualizar essas vozes como fantasmas ocupando jardins sonoros quase que de forma pictórica. Mesmo as peças mais angelicais, como “Sakura” para coro feminino, por meio de suas nuvens harmonicas, frases frágeis que se desvanecem, dinâmicas suaves e oníricas, e silêncios que se tornam tão importantes quanto o som, me lembram muito almas se comunicando entre si. Onde a melodia tradicional japonesa se torna quase irreconhecível e se transforma em um memória.
The compilation album I used to listen to, featuring Toru Takemitsu’s (1930–1996) most notable choral works, was this one, recorded by the Tokyo Philharmonic Choir in 2013. The avant-garde Japanese composer was born in Tokyo in 1930 and worked there until the late 1980s. His ideas helped shape the development of Japanese electroacoustic music, and when it comes to integrating technology into classical music, he was a pioneer in Japan. Although his choral works haven’t received as much attention, my relationship with them began almost 10 years ago, when I was in high school. His long, sustained notes—with soft articulations and resonant endings—along with his static, atmospheric harmonies and his sensitivity to the relationship between silence and sound, had a huge impact on me. It sounds wonderfully ghostly, and since he himself loved composing soundtracks, this made me visualize these voices as ghosts inhabiting soundscapes in an almost pictorial way. Even his most angelic pieces, such as “Sakura” for women’s choir—with its harmonic clouds, fragile phrases that fade away, gentle and dreamlike dynamics, and silences that become just as important as the sound—strongly remind me of souls communicating with one another. Where traditional Japanese melody becomes almost unrecognisable and transforms into a memory.
The compilation album I used to listen to, featuring Toru Takemitsu’s (1930–1996) most notable choral works, was this one, recorded by the Tokyo Philharmonic Choir in 2013. The avant-garde Japanese composer was born in Tokyo in 1930 and worked there until the late 1980s. His ideas helped shape the development of Japanese electroacoustic music, and when it comes to integrating technology into classical music, he was a pioneer in Japan. Although his choral works haven’t received as much attention, my relationship with them began almost 10 years ago, when I was in high school. His long, sustained notes—with soft articulations and resonant endings—along with his static, atmospheric harmonies and his sensitivity to the relationship between silence and sound, had a huge impact on me. It sounds wonderfully ghostly, and since he himself loved composing soundtracks, this made me visualize these voices as ghosts inhabiting soundscapes in an almost pictorial way. Even his most angelic pieces, such as “Sakura” for women’s choir—with its harmonic clouds, fragile phrases that fade away, gentle and dreamlike dynamics, and silences that become just as important as the sound—strongly remind me of souls communicating with one another. Where traditional Japanese melody becomes almost unrecognisable and transforms into a memory.
Pauline Oliveros: Ghostdance
O álbum foi uma colaboração entre essa figura fascinante, a acordeonista e compositora Pauline Oliveros (1932-2016), e a coreógrafa Paula Josa-Jones, encomendada pelo Lincoln Center em 1998. Antes de criar essa obra, ambas passaram algum tempo no México onde puderam participar das cerimônias tradicionais do Día de los Muertos. Isso causou um enorme impacto na forma como elas se relacionam com a presença e a morte, mas também com as memórias e os sonhos, o que levou Josa-Jones a descrever a peça como focada nas “vozes e histórias de nossos ancestrais”. A maioria das obras de Pauline trata do desenvolvimento — termo e conceito criados por ela — do “Deep Listening”, que consiste basicamente em ouvir atentamente e ser afetado pelo que nos rodeia. Nesta obra, ela utiliza vozes, acordeão, djembe e o EIS (Expanded Instrument System) — um ambiente de processamento eletrônico personalizado desenvolvido por Oliveros que, em vez de gerar sons sintéticos, transformava sons acústicos em tempo real por meio de delays, reverberação, alterações de afinação e efeitos espaciais. O material de origem utilizado no EIS consistia em vozes humanas e nos instrumentos mencionados, criando elementos atmosféricos e cheios de emoção em cada faixa. Cada uma delas tem sua própria função aqui; você ouvirá: drones de acordeão que parecem pairar no espaço, percussão ritualística com tambores de mão, vozes que oscilam entre a fala, o canto e vocalizações etéreas, além de longas ressonâncias que criam uma sensação de lugar e memória. Como um todo, esta obra parece um ritual coletivo, a mais narrativa e teatral de todas as obras de Pauline.
The album was a collaboration between this fascinating figure, accordionist and composer Pauline Oliveros (1932-2016) and the choreographer Paula Josa-Jones commissioned by Lincoln Center in 1998. Before creating this piece, bought of them spent some time in Mexico so they could join the Día de los Muertos traditional cerimonies. This created a huge impact on how they relate to presence and death, but also memories and dreams, which Josa-Jones described the piece as focusing on "the voices and stories of our ancestors”. Most of Pauline’s works are about developing—the term and concept created by her—the “Deep Listening”, which is basically hearing what surrounds us. In this work, she uses voices, accordion, djembe, and EIS (Expanded Instrument System)—a custom electronic processing environment developed by Oliveros that, rather than generating synthetic sounds, transformed acoustic sounds in real time through delays, reverberation, pitch changes, and spatial effects. The source material used in EIS consisted of human voices and the instruments listed, creating atmospheric, soulful elements in each piece. Each of these has its own sheet here, you’ll hear: accordion drones that seem to hover in space, ritualistic hand drumming, voices moving between speech, chant, and spirit-like vocalisation and long resonances that create a sense of place and memory. As an overall this piece feels like a collective ritual, the most narrative and theatrical of all Pauline’s work.
The album was a collaboration between this fascinating figure, accordionist and composer Pauline Oliveros (1932-2016) and the choreographer Paula Josa-Jones commissioned by Lincoln Center in 1998. Before creating this piece, bought of them spent some time in Mexico so they could join the Día de los Muertos traditional cerimonies. This created a huge impact on how they relate to presence and death, but also memories and dreams, which Josa-Jones described the piece as focusing on "the voices and stories of our ancestors”. Most of Pauline’s works are about developing—the term and concept created by her—the “Deep Listening”, which is basically hearing what surrounds us. In this work, she uses voices, accordion, djembe, and EIS (Expanded Instrument System)—a custom electronic processing environment developed by Oliveros that, rather than generating synthetic sounds, transformed acoustic sounds in real time through delays, reverberation, pitch changes, and spatial effects. The source material used in EIS consisted of human voices and the instruments listed, creating atmospheric, soulful elements in each piece. Each of these has its own sheet here, you’ll hear: accordion drones that seem to hover in space, ritualistic hand drumming, voices moving between speech, chant, and spirit-like vocalisation and long resonances that create a sense of place and memory. As an overall this piece feels like a collective ritual, the most narrative and theatrical of all Pauline’s work.
Jocy de Oliveira: Fata Morgana
Jocy é uma artista multimídia, pianista e compositora brasileira, a maioria das suas composições são eletrônicas, com muitos trabalhos multimedia como projetos de video, palco e teatros musicais. Se tratando do album mais significativo de Jocy de Oliveira (1936), Fata Morgana faz referencia ao fenômeno de uma miragem óptica complexa que ocorre logo acima do horizonte fazendo os objetos parecerem flutuar ou se transformar no horizonte. A obra trabalha justamente com essa ideia de ilusão, transformação e percepção instável da realidade. Quis trazer o conceito do título do album pra demonstrar o cunho principal da obra e como a artista também trabalha com elementos imaginativos e primeiramente visuais, tornando a peça em uma experiência ritualística e sensorial que mistura voz, eletrônica, dança, vídeo, performance e instalação. Sou fascinada por essa obra pelo fato de ela unir perfeitamente, atmosfera de ritual, uso de meios eletroacústicos e uso da voz não apenas como canto mas também como elementos de natureza, ruídos, repetições hipnóticas e vocalizações primitivas, onde transita entre o som puro e linguagem de comunicação. A minha sensação geral aqui é de um sonho que acessa longas passagens de povos antigos e territórios vários esquecidos ou talvez nunca vistos, perdidos no tempo.
Jocy is a Brazilian multimedia artist, pianist, and composer; most of her compositions are electronic, and she has created many multimedia works, including video projects, stage productions, and musicals. As for Jocy de Oliveira’s (1936) most significant album, Fata Morgana refers to the phenomenon of a complex optical mirage that occurs just above the horizon, making objects appear to float or merge with the horizon. The work explores precisely this idea of illusion, transformation, and an unstable perception of reality. I wanted to highlight the concept behind the album’s title to demonstrate the work’s central theme and how the artist also works with imaginative and primarily visual elements, transforming the piece into a ritualistic and sensory experience that blends voice, electronics, dance, video, performance, and installation. I am fascinated by this work because it perfectly unites a ritualistic atmosphere, the use of electroacoustic media, and the use of the voice—not only as singing but also as elements of nature, noises, hypnotic repetitions, and primitive vocalizations—where it transitions between pure sound and the language of communication. My overall impression here is of a dream that taps into long-forgotten passages of ancient peoples and various territories—forgotten or perhaps never seen, lost in time.
Jocy is a Brazilian multimedia artist, pianist, and composer; most of her compositions are electronic, and she has created many multimedia works, including video projects, stage productions, and musicals. As for Jocy de Oliveira’s (1936) most significant album, Fata Morgana refers to the phenomenon of a complex optical mirage that occurs just above the horizon, making objects appear to float or merge with the horizon. The work explores precisely this idea of illusion, transformation, and an unstable perception of reality. I wanted to highlight the concept behind the album’s title to demonstrate the work’s central theme and how the artist also works with imaginative and primarily visual elements, transforming the piece into a ritualistic and sensory experience that blends voice, electronics, dance, video, performance, and installation. I am fascinated by this work because it perfectly unites a ritualistic atmosphere, the use of electroacoustic media, and the use of the voice—not only as singing but also as elements of nature, noises, hypnotic repetitions, and primitive vocalizations—where it transitions between pure sound and the language of communication. My overall impression here is of a dream that taps into long-forgotten passages of ancient peoples and various territories—forgotten or perhaps never seen, lost in time.
Kronos Quartet, Tan Dun: Ghost Opera
Tan Dun (1957) é um compositor e maestro chinês, com influências tanto chinesas quanto da música clássica contemporânea ocidental. Com muitos prêmios relacionados a suas composições de trilha sonora, suas obras incorporam elementos audiovisuais, instrumentos construídos em materiais orgânicos como papel, água e pedra, inspirados pelo teatro e rituais de perfomance tradicionais chineses. Ghost Opera foi composta em 1994 para o quarteto de cordas Kronos Quartet e para Wu Man, virtuosa instrumentista da pipa chinesa. Diferente de uma opera tradicional a obra funciona como um ritual cênico, onde alem de tocar seus os integrantes cantam, manipulam objetos e utilizam outros materiais como fontes sonoras e execução de acoes teatrais. O nome faz referencia as operas ocidentais e ao mesmo tempo aos rituais xamânicas chineses onde vivos, mortos e forças da natureza se comunicam, demonstrando essa conexão entre épocas e culturas diferentes. Por exemplo, a peça incorpora citações do Cravo Bem Temperado de Johann Sebastian Bach, trechos de William Shakespeare, cantos budistas tibetanos e melodias folclóricas chinesas como a canção “Little Cabbage”. Musicalmente, Ghost Opera substitui a lógica tradicional de tema, desenvolvimento, recapitulação por uma dramaturgia baseada em matéria sonora, transformação e memória. O resultado é uma obra em que a forma emerge da evolução dos timbres e dos gestos performáticos, aproximando o quarteto de cordas de um ritual acústico. Nesse sentido, Tan Dun amplia o conceito de música de câmara: o quarteto deixa de ser apenas um conjunto de instrumentos e passa a atuar como um organismo performático, em que som, movimento e simbolismo são inseparáveis. A peça é frequentemente estudada dentro da chamada música pós-espectral e do teatro musical contemporâneo, embora mantenha uma linguagem muito própria.
Tan Dun (1957) is a Chinese composer and conductor whose work draws on both Chinese traditions and contemporary Western classical music. A recipient of numerous awards for his film scores, his works incorporate audiovisual elements and instruments crafted from organic materials such as paper, water, and stone, inspired by traditional Chinese theatre and performance rituals. Ghost Opera was composed in 1994 for the Kronos Quartet and Wu Man, a virtuoso player of the Chinese pipa. Unlike a traditional opera, the work functions as a staged ritual, in which, in addition to playing their instruments, the performers sing, manipulate objects, and use other materials as sound sources and to perform theatrical actions. The title refers both to Western operas and to Chinese shamanic rituals, in which the living, the dead, and the forces of nature communicate, illustrating this connection across different eras and cultures. For example, the piece incorporates excerpts from Johann Sebastian Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier, passages from William Shakespeare, Tibetan Buddhist chants, and Chinese folk melodies such as the song “Little Cabbage”. Musically, Ghost Opera replaces the traditional logic of theme, development, recapitulation with a dramaturgy based on sound material, transformation and memory. The result is a work in which form emerges from the evolution of timbres and performative gestures, bringing the string quartet closer to an acoustic ritual. Here, Tan Dun expands the concept of chamber music: the quartet ceases to be merely a set of instruments and begins to function as a performative organism, in which sound, movement, and symbolism are inseparable. The piece is often studied within the context of so-called post-spectral music and contemporary musical theatre, although it retains a language all its own.
Tan Dun (1957) is a Chinese composer and conductor whose work draws on both Chinese traditions and contemporary Western classical music. A recipient of numerous awards for his film scores, his works incorporate audiovisual elements and instruments crafted from organic materials such as paper, water, and stone, inspired by traditional Chinese theatre and performance rituals. Ghost Opera was composed in 1994 for the Kronos Quartet and Wu Man, a virtuoso player of the Chinese pipa. Unlike a traditional opera, the work functions as a staged ritual, in which, in addition to playing their instruments, the performers sing, manipulate objects, and use other materials as sound sources and to perform theatrical actions. The title refers both to Western operas and to Chinese shamanic rituals, in which the living, the dead, and the forces of nature communicate, illustrating this connection across different eras and cultures. For example, the piece incorporates excerpts from Johann Sebastian Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier, passages from William Shakespeare, Tibetan Buddhist chants, and Chinese folk melodies such as the song “Little Cabbage”. Musically, Ghost Opera replaces the traditional logic of theme, development, recapitulation with a dramaturgy based on sound material, transformation and memory. The result is a work in which form emerges from the evolution of timbres and performative gestures, bringing the string quartet closer to an acoustic ritual. Here, Tan Dun expands the concept of chamber music: the quartet ceases to be merely a set of instruments and begins to function as a performative organism, in which sound, movement, and symbolism are inseparable. The piece is often studied within the context of so-called post-spectral music and contemporary musical theatre, although it retains a language all its own.
Luciano Berio & Bruno Maderna: Acousmatrix: The History of Electronic Music VII
Essa é com certeza a maior influencia na criação do conceito do programa, o album reúne cinco obras produzidas entre os anos 1950 e 1960 no lendário Studio di Fonologia Musicale da RAI, em Milão, fundado por Luciano Berio (1925–2005) e Bruno Maderna (1920–1973). Os dois compositores são contemporâneos e pioneiros da música eletroacústica italiana, colaboraram brilhantemente num equilíbrio entre a dramaticidade e interesse pela linguagem de Berio e o lado contemplativo e interesse pelo espaço sonoro de Maderna. Nas obras a voz e sons humanos viram matéria prima pra novos objetos sonoros, o timbre vira o tema de cada peça, o ritmo irregular traz sensação de fluxo orgânico livre em transformação constante, montagem em fita magnética e influencias estruturais do serialismo. Se pudesse resumir o album em uma ideia seria sobre a ambiguidade entre o humano e o eletrônico, onde o espaço é tratado com um parâmetro musical e todos sons possuem várias funções e camadas sendo quase impossível definir suas origens primarias. Tudo isso sem meios eletrônicos atuais, hoje quase qualquer DAW permite fazer em minutos processos que levariam dias no Studio di Fonologia. O valor dessas obras, não está na tecnologia em si, mas na maneira como redefiniram o que poderia ser considerado material musical. Há 70 anos, as peças apresentam o nascimento de técnicas hoje usadas na produção musical como: sampling, sound design, manipulação da voz, música acusmática, composição por montagem, espacialização do som, música baseada em timbre em vez de melodia. É um registro de um momento em que a música eletrônica ainda não era um gênero, mas um campo de experimentação artística.
This is undoubtedly the greatest influence on the creation of the program’s concept; the album brings together five works produced between the 1950s and 1960s at RAI’s legendary Studio di Fonologia Musicale in Milan, founded by Luciano Berio (1925–2005) and Bruno Maderna (1920–1973). The two composers are contemporaries and pioneers of Italian electroacoustic music; they collaborated brilliantly, striking a balance between Berio’s dramatic style and interest in musical language and Maderna’s contemplative approach and interest in sound space. In these works, the voice and human sounds become raw material for new sonic objects; timbre becomes the theme of each piece; the irregular rhythm evokes a sense of free, organic flow in constant transformation; and the album features magnetic tape editing and structural influences from serialism. If I could summarise the album in a single idea, it would be about the ambiguity between the human and the electronic, where space is treated as a musical parameter and all sounds possess multiple functions and layers, making it nearly impossible to define their primary origins. All of this was achieved without modern electronic tools; today, almost any DAW allows you to perform in minutes processes that would have taken days at the Studio di Fonologia. The value of these works lies not in the technology itself, but in the way they redefined what could be considered musical material. Dating back more than 70 years, these pieces showcase the emergence of techniques now used in music production, such as sampling, sound design, voice manipulation, acousmatic music, composition by montage, spatialisation of sound, and music based on timbre rather than melody. It is a record of a time when electronic music was not yet a genre, but a field of artistic experimentation.
This is undoubtedly the greatest influence on the creation of the program’s concept; the album brings together five works produced between the 1950s and 1960s at RAI’s legendary Studio di Fonologia Musicale in Milan, founded by Luciano Berio (1925–2005) and Bruno Maderna (1920–1973). The two composers are contemporaries and pioneers of Italian electroacoustic music; they collaborated brilliantly, striking a balance between Berio’s dramatic style and interest in musical language and Maderna’s contemplative approach and interest in sound space. In these works, the voice and human sounds become raw material for new sonic objects; timbre becomes the theme of each piece; the irregular rhythm evokes a sense of free, organic flow in constant transformation; and the album features magnetic tape editing and structural influences from serialism. If I could summarise the album in a single idea, it would be about the ambiguity between the human and the electronic, where space is treated as a musical parameter and all sounds possess multiple functions and layers, making it nearly impossible to define their primary origins. All of this was achieved without modern electronic tools; today, almost any DAW allows you to perform in minutes processes that would have taken days at the Studio di Fonologia. The value of these works lies not in the technology itself, but in the way they redefined what could be considered musical material. Dating back more than 70 years, these pieces showcase the emergence of techniques now used in music production, such as sampling, sound design, voice manipulation, acousmatic music, composition by montage, spatialisation of sound, and music based on timbre rather than melody. It is a record of a time when electronic music was not yet a genre, but a field of artistic experimentation.
Hania Rani: Ghosts
Hania Rani (1990) é uma pianista clássica, compositora e cantora polonesa. Esta é a obra mais programática de sua carreira, na qual ela cria uma bela narrativa entre memórias, relacionamentos, versões passadas de nós mesmos e a fronteira entre a vida e a morte. Durante o tempo que morou na Suíça, cercada pelos Alpes, por hotéis de luxo abandonados e por histórias locais sobre fantasmas, acabou sendo a maior fonte de inspiração para essas peças. A instrumentação é baseada no piano, com influências minimalistas de repetição, adicionando e subtraindo elementos à medida que a peça avança; aqui, ela também utiliza elementos eletrônicos, como sintetizadores e voz humana manipulada. Individualmente, cada faixa tem sua própria atmosfera: ora distante, ora presente; ora brilhante, ora profunda e sombria; mas, em geral, nada é muito definitivo — os sons costumam ser incertos, como ecos de fantasmas ou paisagens enevoadas. Para mim, é um trabalho muito íntimo que fala muito sobre suas experiências pessoais com perdas, e também consigo perceber muitas influências do Takemitsu, no que diz respeito à atmosfera e aos espaços vazios, à sabedoria em saber onde inserir seus silêncios e à absorção de lugares reais para transformá-los em harmonias e melodias.
Hania Rani (1990) is a Polish classical pianist, composer and singer. This is the most programmatic of her works, where she creates a beautiful narrative among memories, relationship, past versions of ourselves and the borderline between life and death. During her living in Switzerland surrounded by the alps, abandoned luxury hotels and local stories about ghosts, it happened to be the biggest inspiration for these pieces. The instrumentation is based on piano with minimalist influences of repetition, adding and subtracting elements as the piece goes by, here she also uses electronic elements like synths and manipulated human voice. Individually each track has its own atmosphere, sometimes distant, other times present, sometimes brilliant, other times deep and dark, but in general nothing is too definitive, the sounds are usually uncertain like ghosts echoes or foggy landscapes. For me, it is a very intimate work talking lots about of her private experiences with losses and I can also hear lots of Takemitsu’s influences here, when it comes to atmosphere and empty spaces, wisely on where to put her silences and the absorption of real places for turning it into harmonies and melodies.
Hania Rani (1990) is a Polish classical pianist, composer and singer. This is the most programmatic of her works, where she creates a beautiful narrative among memories, relationship, past versions of ourselves and the borderline between life and death. During her living in Switzerland surrounded by the alps, abandoned luxury hotels and local stories about ghosts, it happened to be the biggest inspiration for these pieces. The instrumentation is based on piano with minimalist influences of repetition, adding and subtracting elements as the piece goes by, here she also uses electronic elements like synths and manipulated human voice. Individually each track has its own atmosphere, sometimes distant, other times present, sometimes brilliant, other times deep and dark, but in general nothing is too definitive, the sounds are usually uncertain like ghosts echoes or foggy landscapes. For me, it is a very intimate work talking lots about of her private experiences with losses and I can also hear lots of Takemitsu’s influences here, when it comes to atmosphere and empty spaces, wisely on where to put her silences and the absorption of real places for turning it into harmonies and melodies.
Actress: Даррен Дж. Каннінгем
Actress é o nome artístico do músico e DJ inglês, Darren J. Cunningham (1979). Entre sua discografia brilhante, essa faixa me fascinou muito desde a primeira vez que escutei por ser uma grande colagem eletrônica de 54 minutos, um mix dele gravado para a Resident Advisor e lançada em formato de faixa pela Smalltown Supersound. O nome é literalmente o nome completo de Actress escrito em ucraniano. Claro, o formato é o que mais chama atenção por fugir da forma convencional de album e por ser o exemplo perfeito da minha proposta de instalações sonoras pro programa, mas meu interesse pela obra vai muito além. Fazendo referencia ao pintor cubista francês Georges Braque, a obra é composta como uma colagem sonora, criando paisagens atmosféricas em movimento quase visuais. Aqui ele combina tanto técnicas de composição eletroacústica e musica concreta quanto techno, transformando a barreira desses gêneros em algo praticamente invisível. Musicalmente, ele coloca em destaque muitas características da sua própria discografia como: as textura livres acima de meras métricas de estrutura, um techno mais fragmentado (como se pudéssemos escutar os ecos através de rádio interferências), uma montagem cinematográfica (com transições suaves, cortes abruptos e fragmentos de diferentes instrumentações), ambiguidade tonal (harmonias suspensas e dissonâncias que trazem instabilidade) e a microrritmia (trazendo além do elemento surpresa um alivio as repetições previsíveis na musica eletrônica). Eu vejo esse mix como um papel em branco onde ele compõe em formato de bloco um fluxo de novas ideias que se transformam não-linearmente ao longo do tempo. Isso pra mim é a definição de um mixtape artístico e é essa experiencia que eu quis proporcionar a cada convidado no Visage.
Actress is the name of English musician and DJ Darren J. Cunningham (1979). Among his brilliant discography, this track has fascinated me ever since I first heard it because it’s a massive 54-minute electronic collage—a mix he recorded for Resident Advisor and released as a single track by Smalltown Supersound. The title is literally Actress’s full name written in Ukrainian. Of course, the format is what draws the most attention—for breaking away from the conventional album format and serving as the perfect example of my proposal for sound installations for the program—but my interest in the work goes far beyond that. Referencing the French Cubist painter Georges Braque, the piece is composed as a sound collage, creating atmospheric, almost visual landscapes in motion. Here, he combines techniques from electroacoustic composition and musique concrète as well as techno, rendering the boundaries between these genres virtually invisible. Musically, he highlights many characteristics of his own discography, such as: free textures that transcend mere structural metrics, a more fragmented form of techno (as if we could hear echoes through radio interference), cinematic editing (with smooth transitions, abrupt cuts, and fragments of different instrumentation), tonal ambiguity (suspended harmonies and dissonances that create instability), and micro-rhythm (which, in addition to the element of surprise, provides relief from the predictable repetitions in electronic music). I see this mix as a blank canvas where he composes, in a block-like format, a stream of new ideas that transform nonlinearly over time. To me, that’s the definition of an artistic mixtape, and that’s the experience I wanted to provide to every guest on Visage.
Actress is the name of English musician and DJ Darren J. Cunningham (1979). Among his brilliant discography, this track has fascinated me ever since I first heard it because it’s a massive 54-minute electronic collage—a mix he recorded for Resident Advisor and released as a single track by Smalltown Supersound. The title is literally Actress’s full name written in Ukrainian. Of course, the format is what draws the most attention—for breaking away from the conventional album format and serving as the perfect example of my proposal for sound installations for the program—but my interest in the work goes far beyond that. Referencing the French Cubist painter Georges Braque, the piece is composed as a sound collage, creating atmospheric, almost visual landscapes in motion. Here, he combines techniques from electroacoustic composition and musique concrète as well as techno, rendering the boundaries between these genres virtually invisible. Musically, he highlights many characteristics of his own discography, such as: free textures that transcend mere structural metrics, a more fragmented form of techno (as if we could hear echoes through radio interference), cinematic editing (with smooth transitions, abrupt cuts, and fragments of different instrumentation), tonal ambiguity (suspended harmonies and dissonances that create instability), and micro-rhythm (which, in addition to the element of surprise, provides relief from the predictable repetitions in electronic music). I see this mix as a blank canvas where he composes, in a block-like format, a stream of new ideas that transform nonlinearly over time. To me, that’s the definition of an artistic mixtape, and that’s the experience I wanted to provide to every guest on Visage.
Venetian Snares: Cubist Reggae
Aaron Funk (1975), ou Venetian Snares, é um músico eletrônico canadense conhecido por popularizar o gênero breakcore e destaque pelo selo ingles de música eletrônica experimental Planet Mu. Sua música é marcada por ritmos extremamente complexos como compassos 7/8, 15/8 e 11/8, manipulações agressivas de samples e a união paradoxal de violência sonora com sensibilidade melódica. Apesar de ser frequentemente associado apenas ao breakcore, sua discografia passa por IDM, glitch, música contemporânea, jungle, dubstep, acid e até influências de música erudita. Lançado em 2011, apesar de não ser a obra mais popular dele, esse EP foi meu primeiro contato com o artista. Descrito como reggae e dub, aqui ele desmonta completamente os dois gêneros quebrando-os e reorganizando o ritmo, baixo, ecos e melodias e assim, fazendo alusão ao próximo adjetivo do título “Cubista”. Abstrato e totalmente consciente essa é uma obra de total experimentação, onde voce reconhece os gêneros primários em suas características básicas como: linhas de baixo profundas, reverbs e delays extensos, sensação espacial típica do dub jamaicano e ritmos sincopados. Mas ao mesmo tempo ouve tudo cortado em microsamples, deslocado do tempo, repetido de forma irregular e reorganizado em padrões quase impossíveis. As 4 faixas são ritmicamente matemáticas, com groove imprevisiveis e elementos melódicos, harmônicos e de voz geniais e fascinantemente fantasmagóricos. Na minha opinião, essa obra deveria ser escutada e estudada seriamente em aulas teóricas de ritmo e produção eletrônica com polirritmia (junto com o gênio Squarepusher e outros músicos eletrônicos similares atuais) onde o ritmo é tratado como matéria para ser esculpida e não apenas como algo básico. É um trabalho onde a edição digital vira linguagem composicional, aproximando-se tanto da música concreta quanto do dub experimental.
Aaron Funk (1975), also known as Venetian Snares, is a Canadian electronic musician known for popularizing the breakcore genre and for his work with the British experimental electronic music label Planet Mu. His music is characterized by extremely complex rhythms such as 7/8, 15/8, and 11/8 time signatures, aggressive sample manipulation, and the paradoxical fusion of sonic violence with melodic sensitivity. Although he is often associated solely with breakcore, his discography spans IDM, glitch, contemporary music, jungle, dubstep, acid, and even influences from classical music. Released in 2011, although not his most popular work, this EP was my first introduction to the artist. Described as reggae and dub, here he completely deconstructs both genres by breaking them down and reorganizing the rhythm, bass, echoes, and melodies—thus alluding to the next adjective in the title, “Cubist.” Abstract and fully intentional, this is a work of pure experimentation, where you recognize the primary genres in their basic characteristics, such as deep bass lines, extensive reverbs and delays, the spatial sensation typical of Jamaican dub, and syncopated rhythms. But at the same time, you hear everything cut into microsamples, displaced in time, repeated irregularly, and reorganized into almost impossible patterns. The four tracks are rhythmically mathematical, with unpredictable grooves and brilliant, fascinatingly ghostly melodic, harmonic, and vocal elements. In my opinion, this work should be listened to and studied seriously in theoretical classes on rhythm and electronic production involving polyrhythms (alongside the genius Squarepusher and other similar contemporary electronic musicians), where rhythm is treated as a medium to be sculpted and not merely as something basic. It is a work in which digital editing becomes a compositional language, drawing close to both concrete music and experimental dub.
Aaron Funk (1975), also known as Venetian Snares, is a Canadian electronic musician known for popularizing the breakcore genre and for his work with the British experimental electronic music label Planet Mu. His music is characterized by extremely complex rhythms such as 7/8, 15/8, and 11/8 time signatures, aggressive sample manipulation, and the paradoxical fusion of sonic violence with melodic sensitivity. Although he is often associated solely with breakcore, his discography spans IDM, glitch, contemporary music, jungle, dubstep, acid, and even influences from classical music. Released in 2011, although not his most popular work, this EP was my first introduction to the artist. Described as reggae and dub, here he completely deconstructs both genres by breaking them down and reorganizing the rhythm, bass, echoes, and melodies—thus alluding to the next adjective in the title, “Cubist.” Abstract and fully intentional, this is a work of pure experimentation, where you recognize the primary genres in their basic characteristics, such as deep bass lines, extensive reverbs and delays, the spatial sensation typical of Jamaican dub, and syncopated rhythms. But at the same time, you hear everything cut into microsamples, displaced in time, repeated irregularly, and reorganized into almost impossible patterns. The four tracks are rhythmically mathematical, with unpredictable grooves and brilliant, fascinatingly ghostly melodic, harmonic, and vocal elements. In my opinion, this work should be listened to and studied seriously in theoretical classes on rhythm and electronic production involving polyrhythms (alongside the genius Squarepusher and other similar contemporary electronic musicians), where rhythm is treated as a medium to be sculpted and not merely as something basic. It is a work in which digital editing becomes a compositional language, drawing close to both concrete music and experimental dub.
Marina Herlop: Pripyat
A pianista, compositora/produtora e musicista experimental catalã, Marina Herlop (1992) é um exemplo da fusão entre estilos clássicos e avant-garde. Formada em piano clássico começou com obras forcadas na voz humana e no próprio instrumento, depois migrando pra manipulação dessas vozes e incorporação de eletrônicos. Além disso, sua música sofre grande influencia da música carnática de origem no sul da Índia, é um dos grandes gêneros da música clássica indiana e composto por grande ornamentação vocal, silabas rítmicas e improvisação estruturada onde a voz é o principal instrumento. Pra mim, a influência da música carnática me aproxima das aulas de história da música mundial e estudos de outros sistemas de composição e teoria musical microtonal, e isso influencia em suas letras, onde ela surpreende na criação de novas línguas que se originam nas bases rítmicas transformando a voz em vários instrumentos que compõe cada faixa. Esse album pra mim é um obra prima, com estrutura teatral e texturas ancestrais, como se através dela tivesse algo a ser dito através do ritmo puro, da experimentação e interconexão dos elementos musicais. E claro, músicos como a cantora Lisa Gerrard da banda Dead Can Dance, Sigur Rós, Elizabeth Fraser de Cocteau Twins, Björk e Meredith Monk já inventar línguas a um tempo em seus processos de experimentação. Mas essa obra em especifico, talvez por ter como referência os princípios básicos entre ragas e talas indianos, traz elementos tão estranhos e ao mesmo tempo tão familiares em sua musicalidade sensível que desarma toda o impulso de um significado reconhecível. E é aonde se encaixa perfeitamente com o conceito de falta de distinção, de identidades pré definidas e lastreamento da multiplicidade humana. Se eu tivesse que classificar esse album diria: impossível descrever em palavras convencionais, ouça-o com a sua parte imaterial, a alma.
Catalan pianist, composer/producer, and experimental musician Marina Herlop (1992) exemplifies the fusion of classical and avant-garde styles. With a degree in classical piano, she began with works focused on the human voice and the instrument itself, later moving on to manipulating those voices and incorporating electronic elements. In addition, her music is heavily influenced by Carnatic music, which originated in southern India. It is one of the major genres of Indian classical music and is characterized by extensive vocal ornamentation, rhythmic syllables, and structured improvisation in which the voice is the primary instrument. For me, the influence of Carnatic music brings me closer to my classes on the history of world music and my studies of other compositional systems and microtonal music theory. In her lyrics, Marina surprises us by creating new languages that emerge from the rhythmic foundations, transforming her voice into various instruments that make up each track. For me, this album is a masterpiece, with a theatrical structure and ancestral textures, as if, through it, there were something to be said by the sheer rhythm, by pure experimentation, and by the interconnection of musical elements. And of course, musicians such as Lisa Gerrard of Dead Can Dance, Sigur Rós, Elizabeth Fraser of the Cocteau Twins, Björk, and Meredith Monk have long been inventing languages as part of their experimental processes. But this particular work features elements that are so strange and yet so familiar in its sensitive musicality that it completely dismantles any impulse toward a recognizable meaning. And this is where it fits perfectly with the concept of a lack of distinction, of predefined identities, and an embrace of human multiplicity. If I had to classify this album, I would say: it’s impossible to describe it in conventional words; listen to it with your immaterial self—your soul.
Catalan pianist, composer/producer, and experimental musician Marina Herlop (1992) exemplifies the fusion of classical and avant-garde styles. With a degree in classical piano, she began with works focused on the human voice and the instrument itself, later moving on to manipulating those voices and incorporating electronic elements. In addition, her music is heavily influenced by Carnatic music, which originated in southern India. It is one of the major genres of Indian classical music and is characterized by extensive vocal ornamentation, rhythmic syllables, and structured improvisation in which the voice is the primary instrument. For me, the influence of Carnatic music brings me closer to my classes on the history of world music and my studies of other compositional systems and microtonal music theory. In her lyrics, Marina surprises us by creating new languages that emerge from the rhythmic foundations, transforming her voice into various instruments that make up each track. For me, this album is a masterpiece, with a theatrical structure and ancestral textures, as if, through it, there were something to be said by the sheer rhythm, by pure experimentation, and by the interconnection of musical elements. And of course, musicians such as Lisa Gerrard of Dead Can Dance, Sigur Rós, Elizabeth Fraser of the Cocteau Twins, Björk, and Meredith Monk have long been inventing languages as part of their experimental processes. But this particular work features elements that are so strange and yet so familiar in its sensitive musicality that it completely dismantles any impulse toward a recognizable meaning. And this is where it fits perfectly with the concept of a lack of distinction, of predefined identities, and an embrace of human multiplicity. If I had to classify this album, I would say: it’s impossible to describe it in conventional words; listen to it with your immaterial self—your soul.
Ryoji Ikeda: dataplex
Lançado em 2005, dataplex do artista sonoro japonês é o primeiro album da série ‘Datamatics’, um projeto que questiona e interpreta a massiva data computatorial ao nosso redor nos dias atuais, transformando esses dados digitais, matemáticos e processamento em música e instalações audiovisuais. A questão é em como os computadores soam, onde ao invés de emoções, melodias ou narrativas ele trabalha com ondas senoidais, pulsos extremamente curtos, ruído branco, frequências muito altas e muito baixas e padrões rítmicos gerados por algoritmos. Sua música costuma ser chamada de microsound ou glitch, aqui não tem samples, harmonias tradicionais ou grooves convencionais, tudo é um processamento de data e o ritmo nasce disso. Frequentemente elogiado por ser altamente cirúrgico na organização dos elementos Ikeda trabalha com pequenas variações, mas cria desenvolvimento através da densidade, velocidade, espectro de frequências e espacialização estéreo de forma arquitetônica. Esse album influenciou milhares de pessoas na música experimental eletrônica, tanto dentro do selo onde ele foi lançado Raster-Nolon, quanto em outros produtores atuais de IDM e techno minimalista ao explorar a relação entre o processamento digital e o ritmo. A obra também é um projeto de instalações como ‘datamatics’, ‘test pattern’ e ‘superposition’, onde os sons são sincronizados com números, códigos, linhas, flashes de luz e imagens geradas por dados científicos. Em relação com o programa vejo um album inovador que transcende a simples exposição de pensamentos sonoros, mas toda a narrativa o transforma em algo muito forte que instiga reflexão, no caso sobre o advento da era dos computadores e data.
Released in 2005, dataplex by the Japanese sound artist is the first album in the ‘Datamatics’ series, a project that questions and interprets the vast amounts of computer data that surround us today, transforming this digital and mathematical data and its processing into music and audiovisual installations. The focus is on how computers sound; rather than emotions, melodies or narratives, he works with sine waves, extremely short pulses, white noise, very high and very low frequencies, and rhythmic patterns generated by algorithms. His music is often referred to as microsound or glitch; there are no samples, traditional harmonies or conventional grooves here – everything is data processing, and the rhythm emerges from that. Frequently praised for his highly precise organisation of elements, Ikeda works with subtle variations but creates development through density, speed, frequency spectrum and stereo spatialisation in an architectural manner. This album has influenced thousands of people in experimental electronic music, both within the label on which it was released, Raster-Nolon, and amongst other contemporary IDM and minimalist techno producers, by exploring the relationship between digital processing and rhythm. The work also forms part of installation projects such as ‘datamatics’, ‘test pattern’ and ‘superposition’, in which sounds are synchronised with numbers, codes, lines, flashes of light and images generated by scientific data. As far as the programme is concerned, I see an innovative album that goes beyond a mere presentation of musical ideas; the narrative as a whole transforms it into something very powerful that prompts reflection – in this case, on the advent of the computer and data age.
Released in 2005, dataplex by the Japanese sound artist is the first album in the ‘Datamatics’ series, a project that questions and interprets the vast amounts of computer data that surround us today, transforming this digital and mathematical data and its processing into music and audiovisual installations. The focus is on how computers sound; rather than emotions, melodies or narratives, he works with sine waves, extremely short pulses, white noise, very high and very low frequencies, and rhythmic patterns generated by algorithms. His music is often referred to as microsound or glitch; there are no samples, traditional harmonies or conventional grooves here – everything is data processing, and the rhythm emerges from that. Frequently praised for his highly precise organisation of elements, Ikeda works with subtle variations but creates development through density, speed, frequency spectrum and stereo spatialisation in an architectural manner. This album has influenced thousands of people in experimental electronic music, both within the label on which it was released, Raster-Nolon, and amongst other contemporary IDM and minimalist techno producers, by exploring the relationship between digital processing and rhythm. The work also forms part of installation projects such as ‘datamatics’, ‘test pattern’ and ‘superposition’, in which sounds are synchronised with numbers, codes, lines, flashes of light and images generated by scientific data. As far as the programme is concerned, I see an innovative album that goes beyond a mere presentation of musical ideas; the narrative as a whole transforms it into something very powerful that prompts reflection – in this case, on the advent of the computer and data age.