ik share die rowe/nakamura op slsk, Phlonimw is de nick.
Magnet ken ik niet, als je wat meer vertelt kan ik het je misschien vertellen, maar ook niet heel precies want je kunt het begrip eai breed en minder breed opvatten
edit, reviewtje van dat album:
Citaat:
Keith Rowe/Toshimaru Nakamura - between
http://www.bagatellen.com/images/050%20cover
Erstwhile
050-2
There are certain fundamental ideas which have become commonplace in one or more art forms but are less practiced in others. One is the recognition of an unbridgeable separation between objects and, by implication, people. For most of the last century, the cultivation of a keen awareness of spatial/psychological separation has been a standard lesson in the visual arts. One learns to appreciate two or more distinct objects inhabiting the same physical space yet not only retaining their individual identities but, simply by coexisting, creating a multitude of tensions, disturbances in the air around them as well as psycho-gravitational pushes and pulls, vortices of interacting essences influencing behavior in a manner that swiftly becomes all but indecipherable. The awareness, hyper-awareness even, of this space, indiscernible and inconsequential to most lay or inobservant eyes, and of all the intense activity occurring within it, becomes crucial to the artist, perhaps more so than the objects causing the rippling tension themselves. Consistently bearing that knowledge in mind, never avoiding the reality of the situation, will (at least potentially) lend a given visual evocation an ineffable sense of energy, a dynamism difficult to quantify but easy enough, if the viewer is so attuned, to feel. This general notion is often paid lip service in improvised music but rarely, I think, contemplated with the thoroughgoing seriousness it has been in painting, sculpture, etc.
“Between-ness” has always been a central idea in Rowe’s collaborative music. He’s often described AMM’s work, from its earliest days, in terms of the energies generated between the very different poles formed by himself and Prevost, later between the two of them and Tilbury, drawing a clear distinction between accommodation and acknowledgement of differences, reveling in the unexpected (and unpredictable) bounty returned by the interference patterns produced from sources varying in multiple aspects as they rippled over and through one another. It’s a fundamental and fertile decision: not to look for affinities but to accept and appreciate differences. In Nakamura, he has an ideal partner. I’m guessing Toshi thinks about these matters far more than he talks about them (for he does scarce little of the latter), but he seems naturally adept at limning the delicate line between distancing reserve and warm embracing, fond of playing in that particular indistinct field.
These thoughts, to the extent that they accurately reflect some abiding concerns of the musicians involved (if at all), began sinking in the seventh or eighth time I listened to this set, especially to the final track, “Amann”. I’d remarked here and elsewhere how difficult a time I was having grasping the pieces in their entirety, the eeliness with which they resisted wrapping my arms around them. With much music, one is content to follow along, as it were, to experience it episodically and derive satisfactory enjoyment from so doing but Rowe, I’ve long understood, tends to be after bigger game, desiring to concretize as much as possible a concept, to create a whole where the parts dissolve as soon as one examines them too closely. While I enjoyed certain pieces immediately and enormously—the lengthy track, “Lausanne”, for example, strikes me as every bit as beautiful as the bulk of the “Duos for Doris" session; there’s no higher praise from me—it was proving very difficult to “stand back” and take in “between” as an entity, something I felt I should be able to do. “Amann” had initially impressed me as a juicy drone, an appropriate, hyper-extended punctuation to the set. The more I listened, however, the more I could perceive the complex strands in the piece. Their spatial aspect, their separateness while intertwining, became clearer. I began to get an analogous sense of magnetic fields surrounding each sound element. The mental image that seemed to best describe this music: You know when you fool around with a pair of bar magnets and position like poles adjacent to each other, the invisible yet obvious tensile field that occurs, that area with imperceptible borders which nonetheless manifests with clarity at a given point? That’s the image I had—several lines spiraling around each other, forming a solid coherent whole when viewed from a distance but retaining clear, almost self-sufficient identities if I shifted my ears appropriately. That “either/or, neither/nor” experience is quite delicious.
More generally, and strictly aurally: the tracks on Disc 1 have something of a searching quality which settles occasionally on moments of pure delight (in a sense like the first 2/3 of ErstLive 005) while the hit single of the batch, “13630 kHz” is as out and out raucous as much of the rest of the session is subtle. Surprisingly, Nakamura was more responsible than Rowe for the gargantuan outbursts therein; that innocent looking guy sitting motionless behind his decks isn’t quite so. “Lausanne”’s expansive beauty has to do, I think, with achieving something routinely mentioned, rarely actuated: a space in which absolutely anything can happen, infinite in all directions, yet the choices made seem entirely non-arbitrary. It billows out into the void whereas “Amann” gorgeously contracts back to two individuals, orbiting each other in deep appreciation but acknowledging the hard fact that they are, indeed, two individuals and that the tension will always exist as part and parcel of being human.
|
( http://www.bagatellen.com/archives/reviews/001327.html) |
