It seems as this project was thought about with Mira
Calix in mind. Two years ago, the Museum d’Histoire
Naturelle in Geneva supplied Mira Calix with an extensive
bank of insect noises, from wasps and flies to larvae
hatching, with mission to turn them into a stand-alone
composition. The resulting thirty-minute piece, NuNu,
was presented a few weeks later at the museum.
Since the release of her first album, One
On One, four years ago, Durban-born Mira Calix,
real name Chantal Passamonte, has developed a very particular
style of electronica, almost entirely based on found
sounds sourced from her environment. Having left the
hustle and bustle of city life behind her, Chantal relocated
to rural England a few years ago. Although already perceptible
on her first album, this shift in her lifestyle was
even more reflected on Skimskitta,
her second album, released last year. Largely built
around a vast array of sonic textures ranging from stone
and wood to wind, Skimskitta
was a beautifully poetic piece of work and a demonstration
that electronic music can be given a pastoral twist
without losing any credibility. Working on NuNu
seemed almost like a logical development in Passamonte’s
career.
Presented here in a thirteen minute edited version,
the original version of NuNu, which is entirely
made up of treated insect sounds, is set against its
orchestral double, specially created during the Ether
Festival 2003 at the Royal Festival Hall in London,
with the London Sinfonietta. If the original version
was created from supplied samples, the performances
with the London Sinfonietta were created around insect
noises recorded live on stage. Although both versions
share similarities, they are fundamentally different.
On the original, the listener is literally surrounded
by a multitude of noises, all taking part in this vibrant
pastoral symphony orchestrated by Chantal Passamonte.
She isolates melodic elements, which she then develops
into minimal musical lines. Halfway through, a hum crosses
the spectrum, as if the engine of a small plane was
for a moment silencing the cacophony of nature, before
the layers of sounds progressively return.
On the Royal Festival Hall Mix, it is the turn of the
orchestra to simulate insect hums and buzzes, while
Passamonte builds once again an orchestral structure
out of insect sounds. Curiously anachronic, this sonic
cross breeding soon becomes totally confusing as the
human ear fails to clearly distinguish between the input
from the orchestra and that of Passamonte’s live
box. Although not as exhilarating as the original version,
this interpretation challenges preconceptions and brings
listeners to question their own judgment.
Surrounded by these two interpretations of NuNu
is Le Jardin De Barbican, a ten-minute composition,
which was played as part of Helen Chadwick’s first
retrospective, held earlier this year at the Barbican’s
art gallery. Le Jardin De Barbican was set
to loop continuously and was played through speaker
hidden among tropical plants in the conservatory, next
to the gallery. Still using insect noises as the bases
for this pieces, as well as bird songs and other ambient
noises, this piece is more conventional in form. The
central melody evolves around a minimal theme reminiscent
of random melodies played on wind chimes. As anodyne
as it may appear, Le Jardin De Barbican is
superbly atmospheric, evocative and poetic, and serves
here as a perfect interlude.
Tree Commissions gives an insight into a part
of Chantal Passamonte that has, until now, remained
unrecorded. Working on these commissions has clearly
allowed her to explore new grounds and investigates
unusual working practices for her, especially with NuNu.
All three compositions are attached to a particular
context, yet, presented here in isolation. These three
tracks remain however superbly relevant and evocative,
and totally not to be missed.
4.6/5 |
