quête:noah creshevsky

Comes with DL card, wrapped in shrink + a sticker. EN/JP liner notes. ** High grade experimental computer music that deserves a check - tip! **

The first LP release to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the release and to honor the late composer.

This collection, featuring seven pieces from 2011 to 2015, celebrates Noah Creshevsky's 70th year with a fittingly life-affirming and masterful verve. An award-winning composer who has studied with Nadia Boulanger and Luciano Berio, he began composing electronic music in 1971, using the power of circuitry, tape and then digital technology to create a "hyperreal" musical world in which recordings of human performers, both vocalists and instrumentalists, are juxtaposed and recombined in compositions which span eras, cultures and genres. His use of expanded musical palettes arises from an aesthetic of inclusion, guided by an open spirit and an expansive musical sense. The combination of the emotional power of human performances with the precision of computers create real-beyond-real super-performances of surprising control and virtuosity, resulting in a hypothetical and yet very real music, full of drama, humor, and tenderness. This album, Creshevsky's second release on EM, following the 2004 "Tape Music" compilation, gives ample evidence of both his mastery of digital technology and his profound, empathetic musical instincts. His ability to use the computer to highlight the gifts of human performers is displayed on every track, including a piece which focuses on Japanese vocalist Tomomi Adachi.

A bold reimagining of Scottish folk in a hypermodern soundworld, In a River Shadow blends prehistoric instruments, abstract electronics, and environmental recordings into a unique sonic landscape. The result is a futuristic, technoid sound that feels both organic and otherworldly, like a biomechanical artefact unearthed from a distant future.

In a constellation of influences including Yoshio Ojima, sunytty, and the hyperrealist work of Noah Creshevsky, "Birdhouse" is a dream of voices—human, non-human, and AI-generated—unfolding tranquillity into hallucinatory spectres. On "Star of the Sea," Poole confronts a complicated relationship with prayer by reworking the Catholic hymn "Hail Queen of Heaven, the Ocean Star," reformulating the prayer and stretching vocals to their limits, transforming the piece into a drum-driven, visceral interpretation.

Across this five-track EP, Poole combines personal exploration with collaborative influences, including a partnership with Considerate Digital, and collaborations with vocalist Celine Brooks and artist Gabo.

Music : Poole, additional vocals by Celine Brooks on Weila Waila, and Gabo on Selkie of Sule Skerry.

EN/JP liner notes by Doran and a hyper-realistic cover by Japanese visual artist/graphic designer Kai Yoshizawa using 3DCG software.

"8 Automated Works", the first full release by Componium Ensemble, an "indeterminate chamber music" ensemble helmed by Spencer Doran of Visible Cloaks. The project is inspired by the long history of automated musical instruments, beginning with the ancient Greek Archimedes and further developed by the Banū Mūsā brothers in 9th century Baghdad, who "first perfected the concept of a programmable, automated musician: a mechanically controlled flute which used hydraulic water pressure and a system of arrangeable punchcards using a visionary proto-MIDI structure", as Doran explains in the liner notes. This mechanical music-making was extended a millennium later with the use of aleatoric principles by the European Dietrich Nikolaus Winkel, inventor of the self-composing Componium mechanical music system. Doran continues this lineage further, using the possibilities of digital technology and its ability to automate a huge range of virtual instruments and introduce aleatoric elements, moving beyond human impulses and limitations, allowing "new shapes to emerge". Dedicated also to Noah Creshevsky, pioneer of what can be considered cyber-human music, Componium Ensemble features a wide and intriguing range of instruments including prepared piano, bowed harpsichord, celesta, bass clarinet, flute, cello, Balinese tingklik, and more, often in multiple groupings. Despite this variety of instrumentation and the seemingly formidable theoretical underpinnings, the music is very accessible and attractive, spacious and fresh, with a light touch and a sophisticated melodic sense which will appeal to pop fans as well as classical/contemporary music listeners. The album is mixed by longtime collaborator Joe Williams (Motion Graphics, Lifted) and available in 10-inch vinyl, ,

A hill repeating its own name.

Ben Beinn — mountain mountain — an imagined summit, recursive and unstable.

Poole’s new album Ben Beinn follows 2024’s In a River Shadow, and deepens his exploration of environment, voice, and abstraction. If the previous record moved with flowing water and submerged hymns, Ben Beinn climbs into elemental instability: passing storms, coded skies, and sodden ground.

Across ten tracks, Poole entangles the Celtic New Age sound world — traditional instrumentation (flute, low whistle, bagpipe, piano, strings) — with synthesis, environmental recordings, and abstracted voice. The sound palette is tactile — marked by microtonal harmony, swelling dissonance, and a breathy naïvety. Voices in Gaelic, Norwegian, and English surface and dissolve, stretched beyond recognition — more weather than word.

The album’s title refers to a tautological hill — Ben Beinn, or “mountain mountain” — a recursive site where motifs surface, fracture, and re-emerge. On 365 Days of Rain, rainfall data becomes a rhythmic lattice that slips from metrical order. 1000 opens the record in cinematic emergence: mountain icicles and frozen streams swell into strings and breathy melodic weight. Pulling from the connective folktales of hill and mountain trolls — “Dance for a thousand years,” Poole writes, “for jeg har sovet tidlig så lenge.”

Recorded in Scotland between 2024–2025, Ben Beinn draws from environmental recordings of frozen hill passes, storm drains, and peat bogs using contact mics and hydrophones. Rather than simply reflecting place, these recordings press against it — layering the sonic materiality of landscape with synthesis and song. An inflection point between fabrication — folk music as performed identity, a carrier of story — and its obfuscation through digital networks, where tradition is refracted into plural forms.

Musical reference points include the emotionally saturated textures of Inoyama Land, the folk-electronic hybrids of Eli Storbekken, the hyperrealist collage practices of Noah Creshevsky, and the disquieting sonic simulations of James Ferraro. While Ferraro captures the uncanny surfaces of networked life, Ben Beinn turns inward — toward a located listening, shaped by weather, memory, and terrain.

The second in a triptych that began with In a River Shadow, Ben Beinn continues Poole’s excavation of environmental and folk material through contemporary methods. If the first record submerged itself in flowing water and submerged hymns, this one is shaped by the slow pressures of land and sky — a music of erosion, recurrence, and elemental presence.

Jan Anderzén - living in Tampere, Finland - is a collage artist making music, quilts, drawings, mosaics, videos and other things. From him, among a few others, sprang the The River of Finland. A stream that shook the European underground for infinity, back from the years 2005 and up. Jan is/was involved in acts like Kemialliset Ystävät, Avarus, Tomutonttu and The Anaksimandros. When in the past some of that River of Finland tasted like a fermented ocean of mycelia - today it tastes different, like sparkling water.

Halki pilvien - transl. Trough the clouds - brings exactly what one expects from the clouds. It is a collection of soft and gentle movements, as playful as a ‘Jan Anderzén type of music’ is always. A collection of patterns that solidify for just a brief moment in time, before sublimating in the back of the mind. This album is in constant motion.

Push play. A warped piano and cartoonish SFX’s might foretell a hyperreal approach to music. Yet while the champion of hyperrealism, Noah Creshevsky, describes his music as being written in a language we already understand (realism) yet in an exaggerated manner (hyper) - I have to add that things on this album do not sound exaggerated at all. Moreover, i have the feeling that somehow on this work, Jan is trying to underwhelm us. In the best possible way. Because clouds float trough and dissolve. Thus instead of hyperrealism, is Jan maybe speaking to us in a certain Serenerealism? Or Mildrealism?

What Jan’s music does have in common with Creshevsky’s is the no rush part. Listening to Halki pilvien makes time non-directional. The music seems to be designed to be played over and over again. This music has no direct impact like one can experience at a punk show, or at a classical music concert. This music is not that one gigantic raincloud covering the world dark. Quite the opposite, it is a pattern of clouds and clearings, floating over the lands. Trough this music a shadow play appears. This music is durable.

And it is when the sounds are at its faintest, that Jan touches the core: in the smallest detail, we find the fullest musical information.