Shelter Press News

Ein aufmerksamer Zuhörer der Welt zu sein, bedeutet, von Sprache umgeben zu sein. Sprache hallt durch fast jeden Raum, in dem sich Menschen aufhalten, ob unerwünscht oder erwünscht, banal oder tiefgründig. Worte stehen auf der Seite und klingen im Ohr nach, vermehren sich endlos. Diese Überfülle fasziniert den Komponisten und Musiker Ben Vida schon lange, aber in den letzten Jahren hat sie zu einer neuen Art des Musikmachens geführt, die die Vorrangstellung der Sprache in unserer Klang- und Kulturwelt gleichzeitig hervorhebt und hinterfragt. Sanft und spielerisch bricht Vida die Hierarchie von Bedeutung und Klang der Sprache auf, bis sie in egalitärer Harmonie existieren. Oblivion Seekers ist Vidas neuestes Album in diesem Kompositionsstil, nach der Zusammenarbeit mit dem New-Music-Ensemble Yarn/Wire The Beat My Head Hit aus dem Jahr 2023. Wie bei seinem Vorgänger liegt der Fokus der Musik auf koordinierten Duetten aus gesprochenem Wort in neutralem Ton, wobei die variablen Rhythmen der bewegten Worte komplexe interne rhythmische Strukturen schaffen. Er wird von den Stimmen von Nina Dante, Christina Vantzou, John Also Bennett und Félicia Atkinson, die einen einzigartigen Klang erzeugen, der weder ihrer noch seiner ist und in seiner Geschlechtsdarstellung, seinem Akzent und seiner Aussprache fließend ist. Die instrumentalen Kompositionen, die den Hintergrund des Albums bilden, haben den ungezwungenen Fluss eines Dialogs, gesprächig, aber zurückhaltend, selten als Motor der Veränderung. Es herrscht eine ruhige, konzentrierte Stimmung, die durch den zurückhaltenden Rhythmus der Stimmen noch verstärkt wird, sodass man das Gefühl hat, die Musik sei ein langes Mantra, das nie ganz zu seinem Ausgangspunkt zurückkehrt. Der Effekt ist bezaubernd, gleichermaßen einschläfernd und fesselnd, und suggeriert Wiederholung, ohne sich jemals genau gleich zu bewegen. Die Instrumentierung der vier Stücke des Albums variiert; ,Be Yr Own Abyss" wird durch den wellenartigen Kontrapunkt der Saxophone geprägt, während der mehrdeutige Klang des Vibraphons über ,Oblivion Seekers" schwebt und Frasers anschwellender Bass den einzigen dramatischen Auftritt des Albums liefert. Die Musik verändert sich im Ohr, während der Text die Form und Bewegung der Komposition ständig neu definiert und in einen neuen Kontext stellt, auch wenn sie in ihrem jenseitigen Glanz konsistent bleibt. Der Text besteht oft aus Sprachfetzen, denen Vida während seines Lebens beim Komponieren begegnet ist: zufällig mitgehörtes Gemurmel in der Schlange im Supermarkt, eindrucksvolle Sätze aus einem Roman, den er gerade las, Eindrücke von Musik, die er immer wieder auf seinem Plattenspieler hörte. Kleine, ansonsten unbedeutende Details sammeln sich an, nicht um eine Erzählung zu bilden, sondern um einen Eindruck vom komplexen Prozess der Bedeutungsfindung zu vermitteln, der im täglichen Leben stattfindet. Charaktere und Szenen tauchen im Bild auf und verschwinden wieder, und Sätze, die nach einer Erklärung verlangen, dürfen einfach vorbeiziehen. Vidas Liebe zu Robert Ashley ist gut dokumentiert, aber vielleicht noch bedeutender sind Mark E. Smith und The Fall, Neil Tennant und die gesprochenen Verse der Pet Shop Boys, die gesamte Geschichte des Hip-Hop und Meredith Monk. Die Art und Weise, wie die Worte dargeboten werden, ist genauso wichtig wie die Worte selbst und offenbart eine Intentionalität und Direktheit, die Vida mit den abstrakten Konstruktionsmustern des Textes hervorhebt und untergräbt. Auf Oblivion Seekers ist der omnidirektionale Lärm der Marmor, den Vida abträgt, um zu beleuchten, wie wir die unermessliche Fremdheit der Welt verarbeiten. Der Triumph des Albums besteht darin, dass wir nichts von dem schönen Geheimnis verlieren, wie diese Zeichen unsere äußere und innere Welt miteinander verbinden.

Alex Zhang Hungtai steht auf ,Dras" still da, aber es ist eine Stille, die jede Menge Möglichkeiten hat. Diese neun Stücke wurden 2019 in der Saint Joseph Oratory in Montreal aufgenommen (kurz bevor ein Klavier kaputtgemacht wurde) und lagen während der Pandemiejahre auf seiner Festplatte, bis endlich der Funke übersprang. Was jetzt entsteht, fühlt sich an, als würde man jemandem dabei zusehen, wie er die Konturen seiner eigenen inneren Landschaft nachzeichnet, wobei jede Melodielinie eine sorgfältige Auseinandersetzung mit dem Unbewussten ist. Dies ist nur im weitesten Sinne ein Saxophon-Album. Das Terrain hier ist taktil und unerbittlich. Im Titeltrack werden schwierige Melodien auseinandergerissen und zu emotionalen Drones geformt, wobei Dissonanzen ineinandergreifen, während Töne mit metallischem Glanz ihren Weg durch die Sinne bahnen. ,El Khela" bricht sich in spektrale Schichten, die mit ewiger Schwerkraft ziehen, während ,Estado" Trost in seiner eigenen Dunstglocke findet, mit Rhythmen, die kaum hörbar sind, aber mit ihrer Kadenz, die sich an grauen Wänden abzeichnet, vorwärts führen. Es sind kleine Momente, die zu kathartischen Klangatmen werden und jeweils neue Passagen durch die psychische Geografie offenbaren. Es liegt Schönheit in den subtilen Wiederholungen des Openers ,Erg" und in den leuchtenden Progressionen von ,White Dwarf". Zhangs Saxophon wird zu einer Wünschelrute für das Unbekannte, während Elektrizität durch die Adern des Albums fließt und sein Atem alles an etwas wortlos Menschlichem verankert. Die digitale Bearbeitung dieser Kirchenaufnahmen verdeckt nicht das menschliche Element von ,Dras". Sie verwandelt das Rohmaterial in etwas, das zwischen äußerem Raum und innerer Landschaft navigiert. Als der Schlusssong ,Mazil" kommt, lässt Alex Zhang Hungtai sein Saxophon seine volle Resonanz entfalten. Tiefe, kehlige Klänge öffnen sich wie Abgründe unter melodischen Konstellationen, die in dichter Schwerkraft schweben. Hier herrscht Endgültigkeit, auch wenn sich etwas in diesen Passagen schwerelos anfühlt. Diese Musik ist durchdrungen von innerem Dialog, einem wortlosen Zauber, der über dem psychischen Abgrund tanzt. Tonale Sequenzen zerfallen in betäubende Klänge, eine scharfe, elegante Kante, die schneidet, ohne Blut zu vergießen. Dieses einsame Werk der Erforschung wird zu etwas Gemeinschaftlichem. ,Dras" ist eine Karte, um den Raum zwischen dem, wo wir sind, und dem, wo wir hingehen könnten, zu durchqueren.

Für Chantal Michelle ist das Komponieren von Musik wie eine Art Choreografie. In surrealen Klangwelten verbinden sich verschiedene Töne miteinander - sie bewegen sich zusammen und entfernen sich dann wieder voneinander - in einem Prozess, der sich ständig im Hörfeld wiederholt. Diese sich ständig verändernde Konstellation zeigt, wie zerbrechlich und veränderlich Wahrnehmung sein kann, ein Thema, das in Michelles Arbeit immer wieder auftaucht. Michelle, die schon früh eine Tanzausbildung absolvierte, bringt eine ausgeprägte räumliche Sensibilität in ihre Arbeit ein: ein intuitives Verständnis dafür, wie Formen koexistieren und sich durch drei Dimensionen bewegen, sowie eine Wertschätzung für die Schönheit, die sich in ungewöhnlichen Gegenüberstellungen von Materialien und Ideen findet. Seit sie 2021 ihre Solokarriere gestartet hat, hat sie internationale Anerkennung für ihre geduldigen, akribischen Aufnahmen bekommen, die oft zusammen mit Installationen, Mehrkanalkompositionen und Klangskulpturen entstehen. Innerhalb dieser subtil verwirrenden Klangarchitekturen können neue Beziehungen entstehen, neue Grenzen gezogen werden, und die Zuhörer werden zu einer Erfahrung von Zeit eingeladen, die sich der Linearität widersetzt. All Things Might Spill, Michelles erstes Album für Shelter Press, ist eine Auseinandersetzung mit anhaltender Spannung und der mysteriösen Erfahrung der Zeitdehnung in den Momenten kurz vor einem Bruch oder Zusammenbruch. Die Musik bewegt sich in einem Raum der Instabilität, und obwohl sie durchgehende Töne und definierte melodische Phrasen verwendet, herrscht eine Atmosphäre der Unentschlossenheit - wie ein Moment der Unruhe, der auf unbestimmte Zeit in der Schwebe bleibt. Ein Großteil des Albums wurde in den Wintermonaten 2024 in Berlin aufgenommen, wobei viele frühe Morgenstunden in einem Raum subtiler Unruhe verbracht wurden. Man sagt, dass Licht in die Dunkelheit eindringt, und diese Übergangszeit, die von Erwartungen geprägt ist, ist in der Musik zu hören. In ,Presence of Border" winden und verflechten sich nebulöse Stimmen, während sie über mehrdeutigen Harmonien schweben, die sich in unendliche Ferne zu erstrecken scheinen. Die beiden kurzen Stücke ,Magnetic Field I" und ,Magnetic Field II" enthalten bearbeitete Aufnahmen einer Tromba Marina, gespielt von der argentinischen Klangkünstlerin Alma Laprida. Die Gegenüberstellung von kratzigen Tönen und hauchzarten Obertönen erzeugt tamburaähnliche Drones, die den Zuhörer in einen schwer fassbaren Mittelpunkt ziehen. Später auf dem Album gibt es in ,Drying of Frozen Soils" modale Klarinettenlinien von Severin Black, die anfangs in dem nebligen, synthetischen Hintergrund fast nicht zu hören sind, bevor sie sich zu einem gespenstischen Kontrapunkt entwickeln. Eine ähnliche Struktur aus Unklarheit und Klarheit prägt den Titeltrack, in dem wortlose Gesänge eine laute Feldaufnahme durchdringen, die auf einer Fähre aufgenommen wurde, die den East River von Brooklyn nach Manhattan überquert. Das ist Musik mit einem weitläufigen Terrain und einer dichten Atmosphäre. Veränderungen sind langsam, aber dramatisch, jede Verschiebung ist sorgfältig geplant, um Gefühle des Staunens und der Vorfreude zu wecken und gleichzeitig eine erhabene Sensibilität dafür zu bewahren, wie einzelne Klänge mit der Bewegung ihrer Umgebung in Beziehung stehen. Michelle verzichtet meisterhaft auf Narrative und komponiert in drei Dimensionen. Wir bleiben mit der Mehrdeutigkeit des Wortes ,might" zurück - der anhaltenden Möglichkeit des energetischen Ansturms des Bruchs, des Ausbrechens, mal am Horizont, mal unmittelbar bevorstehend, irgendwie beides gleichzeitig.

Vor ein paar Jahren kam mir beim Lesen von Thomas Manns ,Der Zauberberg" eine Idee. Diese Idee kam nicht von der Geschichte im Buch, sondern von den Spuren und der Atmosphäre, die darin beschrieben werden. Das war's: eine hörbare, atmosphärische Reise durch die Erinnerungen an einen Ort, der irgendwo hoch in den Schweizer Bergen verloren gegangen ist. Ein Jahrhundert nach den Ereignissen, die im Buch beschrieben werden, sind wir an den Ort der Handlung gereist, um die noch vorhandenen Geräusche einzufangen, die damals zu hören gewesen sein könnten, und die Geister, die vielleicht noch immer dort umherwandern. Zauberberg basiert auf diesen Aufnahmen, auf Aufnahmen der Musik, die Hans Castorp (die Hauptfigur des Romans) spielte, auf akustischen/elektronischen Instrumenten und digitaler Bearbeitung. Das Ergebnis ist eine Beschwörung von Zeit und Dauer, eine Erkundung dessen, was bleibt und was verloren geht, eine Meditation über die Auflösung und das Fortbestehen der Aura, die alles umgibt.

Following his debut EP God Iz Enough, South London artist Tomi Ahmedeus unveils “Sereniti Praya” a striking new chapter that deepens his sonic identity. Once again collaborating with Grammy Award-winning engineer IRKO, Ahmedeus crafts an immersive soundscape where brutalist textures, cinematic layers, and visceral rhythms converge. At it's core, Sereniti Praya is both dance driven and emotionally resonant: intricate sampling and percussive detail form the cadence of a project that speaks to love, loss, and self-discovery.

It is a record that moves between the personal and the ephemeral, designed as much for reflective listening as for the energy of the dance floor.

Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands is an autobiographical record, comprised of four songs that Hoff refers to as ambient media. Each track is composed from sources drawn from his own involuntary aural landscape, specifically musical earworms and tinnitus frequencies.

Neither sound nor a daydream, the earworm (or stuck song) emblematizes music as a commercial form—immediate, ubiquitous, and persistent. Likewise, tinnitus is inaudible and unscrupulous, manifesting across a spectrum of frequencies at will. The cognitive swirling of these phenomena provides an ambivalent, internal soundtrack that scores a person’s movement through the world.

Those suffering from tinnitus or those who have grown accustomed to the “Tinnitus Effect” in movies will likely recognize the buzzing pitches on the record, but will likely not recognize the songs. Distorted and distilled, Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands features altered versions of four commercial pop songs: Blondie’s “Heart of Glass,” David Bowie’s “Space Oddity,” Madonna’s “Into the Groove,” and Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day.”

Having been haunted by these songs on and off for years, Hoff tweaks the tracks, transposing and recomposing them for orchestral instrumentation. Speaking back to these involuntary echoes, these tracks go to great lengths to obfuscate their sources; to be sure not to simply re-introduce each earworm, as though they were samples. Otherwise, what’s the point? No one needs another stream.

Besides, earworms are not music, although we perceive them as such. They are non-cochlear and exist as an affective force that is neither subjective nor objective, which is to say they are an invasive—and alien—phenomenon. Like tinnitus, they are aggravated by economic, social, and environmental forces as well as emotional states, mental health, and aging. Hoff doesn’t underplay his own struggles with mental health in discussing the record—noting a long history of depression and its acuteness over the last few years, which serve as the backdrop to the composition of this record.

Scratch any pop song hard enough and you’ll find sadness underneath it. Subdermal, the songs on this record evoke a type of ephemeral weariness and despair. By recasting the original songs through their shadowy doubles, Hoff provides a window into the dark core of pop music. At the center of which lies capitalism’s desperate attempt to replicate itself through a cheap high built on echoing refrains. Just below the surface the listener finds a hangover of shadows dancing through the mind.

Ston Elaióna is John Also Bennett’s first album for Shelter Press since his 2019 solo debut Erg Herbe. The American born, Athens, Greece, based flautist, synthesist, and composer weaves a strikingly singular electroacoustic excursion for bass flute and Yamaha DX7ii, largely recorded in the golden haze of the early morning hours - bending time at the otherworldly juncture of consciousness and place. Translating from Greek as “in the olive grove”, Ston Elaióna is permeated with the ambiences of the ancient and present world, guided into form by a playfully rigorous approach to sound.
Initially emerging during the mid 2000s as part of Columbus, Ohio’s noise scene, before relocating to NYC around 2010, Bennett’s diverse activities picked up an increasing sense of pace over the following decade - performing and recording as a solo artist (JAB), with the trio Forma and with CV &JAB, his prolific duo with his partner Christina Vantzou, as well as playing in Jon Gibson’s ensemble among many other multifaceted collaborations. However, since 2020 the flautist and electroacoustic composer has existed in a semi nomadic state: drifting between Brooklyn, Brussels, extensive tours, and Greece, where he finally came to rest in Athens last year.

Drawing upon a carefully honed attentiveness to the environments and experiences of everyday life, Ston Elaióna is a suite of nine pieces (with an additional track exclusive to physical formats), many of them composed and played live as the early morning sun touched the Parthenon, in full view from Bennett’s studio window in Athens. Bennett’s refinement and restraint, honed over his years adrift, led him to adopt a limited palette focused on his primary instrument, the bass flute, and a Yamaha DX7ii synthesizer tuned to just intonation scales. Alongside a handful of other keyboards, digital oscillators triggered by his flute, and occasional field recordings, this simple palette is reflected by the deeply emotive sense of minimalism that permeates the album’s two sides. Following two solo albums defined by outward facing temperaments - 2022’s Out there in the middle of nowhere (Poole Music), which used a lap steel guitar and generative oscillators to evoke the surreal landscapes of the South Dakota badlands, and the largely synthetic atmospheres of the 2024 anthology Music For Save Rooms 1 & 2 (Editions Basilic) - the shift in Bennett’s worldly circumstances offered an intuitive return to the calm, inward states of creative exploration that have historically defined JAB’s sound. In parallel, context provided clear sources of inspiration for many of the album’s themes, as well as sources for some of its sounds. The aura of Greece, from the ancient to the present, from its stones and olive groves to its traffic, figures heavily across Ston Elaióna’s two sides. John Also Bennett’s Ston Elaióna forms an elegantly rigorous world of electroacoustic sonority, bridging the expanse of time with the immediacies of environment and happening in the here and now: a profound sonic mediation on the countless dimensions unlocked by life in Greece.

Das Werk von JJJJJerome Ellis bewegt sich mühelos zwischen Stille und Möglichkeiten. Der schwarze, behinderte Künstler mit grenadischen, jamaikanischen und amerikanischen Wurzeln schafft mit Saxophon, Orgel, Hackbrett, Elektronik und Stimme atmosphärische Klanglandschaften. Improvisation ist der Kern - oft werden große Teile von Aufnahmen bearbeitet, um das Werk wie ein Marmorbildhauer freizulegen. Es ist eine expansive und interdisziplinäre Praxis, die es JJJJJerome ermöglicht, sich an jedes Medium und jede Form anzupassen, darunter aufgezeichnete Musik, Live-Theater und Performance-Kunst, Filmmusik, Spoken Word und Storytelling sowie multimediale/visuelle Werke, die Klang integrieren. Als Mensch, der stottert, fiel es ihm in der Kindheit schwer, sich mit dem Mund auszudrücken. Den Künstlernamen ,JJJJJerome" zu buchstabieren, rührt von der Erkenntnis her, dass das am häufigsten gestotterte Wort der eigene Name ist. Trotz einer kurzen Sprachtherapie als Kind - als er in der siebten Klasse zum Saxophon griff, machte es plötzlich Klick. ,Ich stottere immer noch beim Saxophonspielen, aber es ist anders." Als Künstler dreht sich sein kreatives Ethos nun um die Erforschung des Stotterns durch Musik, wobei er die Fähigkeit jedes Einzelnen, Zeit zu gestalten, näher erläutert. Er ehrt das Stottern durch Kunst. Er begann damit, zu CDs von John Coltrane und Billie Holiday auf dem Horn zu improvisieren. Aber als jemand, der sich gerne mit Grenzen auseinandersetzt, hat sich JJJJJerome seitdem zu einem versierten Multi-Instrumentalisten entwickelt, wobei jedes Instrument einen Wendepunkt darstellt, der neue Wege zu potenziellen Klangwelten ebnet. Seine Stimme wird zusätzlich von einer Ehrfurcht vor der Erde und den Vorfahren - sowohl menschlichen als auch anderen - geleitet. Aufgrund der familiären Verbindungen seiner Mutter zur Kirche und den unvergesslichen Geschichten seiner Großmutter, die als Pianistin und Organistin auftrat, hat JJJJJeromes jüngste Affinität zu Tasteninstrumenten eine bedeutende Gewichtung. Das kommende zweite Album ,Vesper Sparrow" (Shelter Press) ist aus dieser Verbindung zur schwarzen religiösen Tradition und zum Erbe entstanden. Es ist eine Fortsetzung der fortlaufenden Auseinandersetzung des Künstlers mit den Schnittstellen zwischen Musik und Klang, Stottern und Schwarzsein aus der Perspektive der Zeit. Das Album besteht aus zwei vollständigen Gedanken und dreht sich um ein aufgezeichnetes Stottern. JJJJJerome teilt die vierteilige Komposition ,Evensong" auf, indem er das Stottern in Teil zwei ausblendet und die Tracks drei und vier (,Vesper Sparrow" und ,Black-Throated Sparrow") dazwischen einfügt. ,Das Stottern wird zu einem strukturierenden Moment", erklärt er in Bezug auf die Möglichkeit, die entstandene Zeit zu füllen. Die Aussetzung wird somit zu einem integralen Bestandteil der musikalischen Sprache von JJJJJerome. Sowohl Stottern als auch Granularsynthese können Momente in der Zeit aussetzen und ,zu vielfältigen Arten des Verweilens, Durchquerens und Verbindens mit anderen in diesen Momenten einladen". Der Künstler greift auch auf Elemente der Pop-Produktion zurück - elektronische Texturen und Verzerrungen, die teilweise vom Indie-Rock inspiriert sind, sowie Spoken Word, Sampling und Audiomanipulationen, die aus der karibischen und afroamerikanischen Musik stammen.

Jon Porras verfügt über eine seltene Fähigkeit, den Puls einer Klanglandschaft zu lokalisieren und ihren emotionalen Kern herauszuarbeiten. Seine Arbeit speist sich seit langem aus der Reibung zwischen organischen Formen und elektronischer Verarbeitung, doch mit Achlys bewegt er sich weiter in Richtung Textur, Erosion und Gewicht. Diese Musik ist von Zusammenbruch durchdrungen - nicht als Spektakel, sondern als langsamer Prozess. Diese Stücke entfalten sich nicht, sie sammeln sich. Gitarre, Subbass, modulare Synthese und verarbeitete Geräusche sammeln sich wie Sedimente an und schichten sich zu Kompositionen, die sich eher wie Wettersysteme als wie traditionelle Songs bewegen. Das Album navigiert durch eine Abfolge von fragmentierten Klangvignetten: zerfallende Umgebungen, monumentale Stille und reale wie auch innere Landschaften. Die Struktur wird durchlässig. Jedes Stück deutet sowohl auf Präsenz als auch auf Verschwinden hin. Häufig wurden mehrere Stücke isoliert geschrieben und ohne Synchronisation übereinandergelegt, sodass absichtliche Dissonanzen die resultierenden Texturen bestimmten. Dieser Ansatz begünstigt Drift und Reibung, wobei Melodien durch verschwommene Intervalle geistern und eine Spannung zwischen Erinnerung und Verzerrung erzeugen. Das Album beginnt mit ,Fields", wo schwache Gitarrenphrasen in hohlen, resonanten Tönen versinken, die eher erinnert als gespielt wirken. An den Rändern flackert Wärme, gefiltert und entfernt, wie Licht, das sich durch Ruß drängt. In ,Holodiscus" treiben elegische Linien über einer sanften Unterströmung von Dissonanzen und widerstehen leise dem Sog in Richtung Zusammenbruch. Der Titeltrack gleitet zwischen Klarheit und Verzerrung und verwandelt harmonische Fragmente in ein schimmerndes Gitter aus Verfall. Während des gesamten Albums dehnen anhaltende Töne die Zeit zu einer Unschärfe, während bearbeitete Gitarrenklänge wie Echos aus benachbarten Räumen auftauchen und wieder verschwinden. Jedes Stück trägt eine emotionale Prägung, ohne eine Richtung vorzugeben, und hinterlässt Texturen, die sich sowohl taktil als auch unruhig anfühlen. Diese Dualität der Größenordnung - immens und winzig - fließt in die Klangpalette des Albums ein. In ,Sea Storm" brodelt und zieht der tiefe Klang nach unten und verstreut dabei Gitarrenfragmente. ,Before the Rite" schwillt mit abrasiver Dichte und verzerrten Obertönen an - ein Moment der fast überwältigenden Intensität, der sich gerade noch im Gleichgewicht hält. Die Klänge bleiben in der Schwebe und weigern sich, sich aufzulösen.Achlys bewegt sich durch ein Gebiet wechselnder Schwellen - wo Licht und Schatten, Struktur und Erosion nebeneinander existieren, ohne sich in Gegensätze aufzulösen. Anstatt auf eine klare Schlussfolgerung abzuzielen, bietet das Album eine zyklische Form von Entstehung und Erosion. Es ist klanglich dicht und doch weitläufig, emotional resonant, aber losgelöst von jeder Erzählung. Nichts hier ist feststehend. Alles trägt die Spur davon, einmal etwas anderes gewesen zu sein. Während einige Fragmente verblassen und andere nachklingen, prägen sie alle die Atmosphäre.

Unlike anything we have heard from her before, Okkyung Lee returns to Shelter Press with "Just Like Any Other Day: Background Music For Your Mundane Activities", a deeply intimate body of recordings at the juncture of ambient music, minimalism, and the baroque, that stands as radical intervention with what experimental music can be, and the place that organisations of sound occupy in our lives. For more than two decades, Okkyung Lee has stood at the forefront of the most radical trajectories of experimental music: a virtuosic cellist and improviser, renowned for her creative rigour and emotive depth. Particularly noteworthy for her range, dexterity, and adaptability, over the last five years Lee's output has revealed unexpected shifts and developments that move far afield from the realms of free improvisation for which she is most well known. 2020's "Yeo - Neun", a heart-wrenching, ambient chamber work - drawing inspiration from the Korean popular music of her youth - was issued by Shelter Press to great critical response, followed closely by "Teum (The Silvery Slit)" - one of a series engrossing electroacoustic works created at Groupe de Recherches Musicales in Paris - on Portraits GRM, and then "Na-Reul" in 2021, regarded by Lee as a closing statement of more than two decades living in New York, which set the precedent of her allowing her emotions to fully occupy the forefront of the music for the first time. Marking her return to Shelter press, "Just Like Any Other Day": Background Music For Your Mundane Activities", encounters Lee upturning the apple cart once again, weaving a profoundly intimate artistic statement on completely unexpected terms. Like its three aforementioned predecessors, "Just Like Any Other Day" belongs to broadening shift in Lee's approach to composing that roughly aligns with her return to her native South Korea, having lived in the United States since her late teens. Infused with a deep reengagement with her own culture and relationship to memory, it is equally a response to those critical challenges and questions provoked by significant life change. Worked on in isolation, and continuously returned to, over the course of four years, the album's nine pieces began with a simple recognition that experimental music is not always what we imagine it to be. It is a practice and a pursuit - a music for which, at its inception, the outcome is unknown - rather than an idiom defined by certain syntaxes, approaches, and qualities of structure and sound. From this departure point, Lee began to inquire after the utility of music itself: what is it for, what does it do, and what place does it (or can it) occupy in our lives? This solitary and durational journey, each composition gradually moving through different phases and evolutions over years, led Lee toward uncharted ground: a music that is not only playful, introspective, and seductive, but also intended to provoke a relationship to experimental music beyond its normative expectations. Rather active or deep listening, it pursues passive listening. Rather than a grand statement, it is discreet. Rather than virtuosity, it embraces the elegant and direct. Even more strikingly, for the first time, the music of "Just Like Any Other Day" encounters Lee leaving the cello entirely behind. Created at home on keyboard, computer, and an inexpensive cassette recorder, "Just Like Any Other Day" presents a remarkable form of ambient music - organisations of sound that become their own environment, to be occupied - intended, as the album's subheading infers, as Background Music For Your Mundane Activities. An expansion of the creative pathways opened by the Korean pop imbued compositions of Yeo - Neun, aspects of electronic process explored by "Teum (The Silvery Slit)", and the emotive foregrounding of "Na-Reul", each of the pieces presented across the two sides of "Just Like Any Other Day" implies something far greater than the limits of its own temporarily: a mood, provocations of memory and place, mirrors for the solitude within which it was made, and palpable emotion lingering just out of grasp. For Lee, each of the album's compositions could be continued or looped for an indeterminate duration: straddling a ground between the minimal and the baroque, enveloping the listener in endless cycles of appreciating, repetitive and rhythmical notes, flirting with the melodic and implying a disembodied imagism that borders on the profound. Remarkably beautiful and direct, Okkyung Lee's "Just Like Any Other Day: Background Music For Your Mundane Activities" - issued by Shelter Press on vinyl - represents a radical reconfiguration of experiential music, stripped to its bare essence in defiance of the widely presumed aesthetic signifiers. Unlike anything we've heard from her before, this immersive body of intimate recordings not only reveals new dimensions of Lee's striking range as an artist, but also of how we might regard and occupy music itself: an ambience to lived and felt like a second skin.

Der schwüle Ton von Eliana Glass ist nicht zu überhören - sie wechselt zwischen einer unkonventionellen, suchenden Qualität und ihrer ergreifenden, ehrfurchtgebietenden Bandbreite. Auch ihr Klavierspiel besitzt dieses mitreißende Hin und Her zwischen dem Jenseitigen und dem schmerzlich Menschlichen - jede Melodie ist ihr eigenes, einzigartiges, schmerzhaftes Reich. Glass' spärliche, meditative Musik fängt oft, wie sie sagt, die ,Verdichtung des Alltags" ein, ein Bild, das zu der bittersüßen, flüchtigen und abstrakten Natur ihrer Arbeit passt. Glass' Debütalbum E erscheint bei Shelter Press und ist nicht nur ein zärtliches Porträt ihrer lebenslangen Beziehung zum Klavier, sondern auch eine Destillation ganzer Lebenszeiten. Vier Jahre lang arbeitete Glass mit dem Mitbegründer und Produzenten von Public Records, Francis Harris (Frank & Tony, Adultnapper), und dem Tontechniker Bill Skibbe (Shellac, Jack White) zusammen, um das Album E in verschiedenen Studios in Nashville, Brooklyn, Memphis und Benton Harbor, Michigan, aufzunehmen. Glass' experimentelle, improvisatorische Werke erinnern an den sinnlichen Minimalismus von Annette Peacock, die freudige Rätselhaftigkeit von Carla Bley und die wehmütige Intimität von Sibylle Baier. Ihre Verehrung für die Größen des Leftfield Jazz und der freien Improvisation ist unüberhörbar, aber immer gefiltert durch ihren unverwechselbaren, naturalistischen Sound. ,Dreams" ist eine majestätische Interpretation von Peacocks gleichnamigem Stück aus dem Jahr 1971, ,Sing Me Softly the Blues` ist eine minimale, fesselnde Neuinterpretation von Baiers Jazzstandard mit einem von der norwegischen Sängerin Karin Krog adaptierten Text, und ,Emahoy` ist eine schmachtende Hommage an die äthiopische Pianistin, Komponistin und Nonne Emahoy Tsegué-Maryam Guèbrou und ihre 2006 erschienene Kompilation Éthiopiques. Glass' Musik basiert auf einem taktilen, sprunghaften Klang und ihrer stimmlichen Kraft und Vielseitigkeit. E's glatte Stöße von Kontrabass und Schlagzeug kitzeln den Gehörgang und betonen die Schlagfertigkeit ihrer unverwechselbaren tiefen Stimme, die sonore, androgyne Gelassenheit mit flatterhafter Zartheit verbindet. E hat auch eine rätselhafte elektronische Note, die die verschwommenen Emotionen von Glass' Songwriting noch verstärkt. Von Hintergrundrauschen und windigem Gesang bis hin zu kaleidoskopischen Synthesizern stammen diese subtilen, geschmackvollen Verzierungen oft von speziellem analogem Equipment: einer unterirdischen Echokammer aus den 1960er Jahren, einem Cooper Time Cube (im Grunde das Hardware-Äquivalent der Audioverarbeitung durch einen Gartenschlauch) und einem AEA-Bandmikrofon aus den 1940er Jahren. Aber das bedeutet nicht, dass E veraltet klingt - Glass' Songs sind von einem zukunftsweisenden Geist durchdrungen und fungieren letztlich als Vehikel für ihre berauschenden Emotionen und fragmentierten Erinnerungen und Träume. Glass' eigentümliche stimmliche Alchemie und ihre lebhaften Klavierausflüge sind meisterhaft und ganz und gar ihre Sache, und ihr Debütalbum ist ein Geschenk von klangvoller Schönheit und lohnender Mehrdeutigkeit. Als Musikerin und Improvisatorin ist Glass von der Suche nach Bedeutung, nach Klängen, nach Neuem, nach Verbindung begeistert und beherrscht diese. Und wie Krog 1975 in ,Sing Me Softly the Blues" sang: ,Life's so thrilling / if you search."

Entering its 26th year of activity, the morphing, Los Angeles based experimental outfit, Sissy Spacek, joins Shelter Press with Entrance, among the project's most captivating outings to date. Encountering the duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma joined in various configurations by an incredible cast of collaborators - Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, Ralf Wehowsky, and C Spencer Yeh - collectively transformed into a series a deeply intimate and delicate gestures of musique concrète, Entrance radically repositions the possibilities presented by group improvisation outside of time and place. Founded at the end of the last millennium, the Los Angeles based project, Sissy Spacek, initially emerged from the knotted, fiery context 1990s American noise and grindcore, producing sheets of visceral sonority that quickly set the scene on its head. Going through numerous evolutions, before eventually settling as a duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma - joined by a rotating and often recurring cast collaborators - over the last 25 years the band has continuously entered states of evolution that have defied the expectations of its own context, seeding the sonic extremes noise with subtle and sophisticated approaches to free improvisation and musique concrète. Fiercely positioning its efforts within the outer reaches of contemporary experimental music, while resisting the constraints of a singular sound or proximity, Wiese regards Sissy Spacek as being primarily centred around the practice of musique concrète and the pursuit of extremes. From its earliest releases - collage treatments of material gathered from the band's full throttle practice sessions - the project's conceptual framework has continuously evolved within a deeply engaged process of experimentation, not only reworking tactical approaches, but also definitions and perception regarding the location and action of their work. In recent years, this has led to an increasingly varied and diverse output. Percolating within, is a thread marked by a striking sense of delicacy and intimacy, driving forward while doubling as an unexpected challenge, in real time, to perceptions connected to the band's past. Entrance is the most recent of these. Embarking upon the four compositions that comprise the finalized four sides of Entrance, Wiese and Mumma enlisted longstanding collaborators, Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, and C Spencer Yeh, as well as new initiate, Ralf Wehowsky (of the seminal German electronic noise collective P16.D4), requesting a contribution of sounds from each, determined by a general set guidelines that dictated certain qualities the given sonorities, while allowing for the expression of each player's distinct creative voice. The sets of resulting recordings were then chopped, harvested, manipulated, and reassembled as the four tape compositions that make up the album - Web Of Unfolding Appearance, Figure Of Reflected Light, Trancher And The Inheritors, True Dimension (From The Opaque - Spike) - each blurring the lines of authorship and clear creative proximity in remarkable ways. Where historical gestures of musique concrète tend to draw upon non-instrumental sound sources - regarding its sonorous material as raw elements, unburdened by inherent meaning or association, to be transformed and imbued with musicality - Sissy Spacek turns this position on its head. Entrance comprises works of musique concrète that not only draw upon instrumental sound sources, with all their possible meanings or associations, but also individual characters and personalities of their players, crediting each resulting piece to its respective configuration of contributors. As such, Entrance is an effort of sound collage defined by a rare sense of intimacy and humanity: four pieces that often take on the resemblance of group improvisation, but have, in fact, been assembled outside of time and place. Bent under the ever-present hand of Wiese's tape treatments and manipulation, each of the album's four compositions unfurl startling states of sonic abstraction and percolating texture, marked by a striking sense of hard-shifting structure, that culminate as tense, driven manifestations of ambient music: scrapes, squeals, rattles feedback, rolling drums, bouncing tones, whispers, bent electronics, electric artefacts, and seemingly everything else under the sun, configured into immersive, sublime mediations in sound from the most improbable events.

Aunes is a rare solo album from peripatetic Australian cellist-composer-performer Judith Hamann, presenting six pieces recorded across several years and countries. Developing the collage techniques and expanded sound palettes heard on their previous releases, Aunes makes use of synthesizers, organ, voice and location recordings alongside the dazzlingly pure, enveloping tones of Hamann's cello. The record takes its name from an old French unit of measurement for fabric, varying around the country and from material to material. Unlike the platinum metre bar deposited in the National Archives after the Revolution as an immovable standard, an aune of silk differed from an aune of linen: the measure could not be separated from the material. In much the same way, in these six pieces_which Hamann thinks of as `songs'_formal aspects such as tuning, pacing, melodic shape and timbre are not abstractions applied universally to musical material but are inextricable from the instruments and sounds used, even from the places and communities in which the music was made. Audible location sound embeds the music in its place of making, as in the delicate duet for church organ and wordless singing `schloss, night', where shuffles and cluttering in the reverberant church space form a phantom accompaniment, gradually displaced by a uneasy shimmer of wavering tones from half-opened organ stops. `Casa Di Riposo, Gesu' Redentore' documents a walk up a hill to an outdoor mass in Chiusure, layering voices near and far with footsteps, insects and other incidental sounds. Like in the work of Moniek Darge or Luc Ferrari, location recordings are folded on themselves in space and time, their documentary function dislocated to dreamlike effect. On other pieces, it is the emphatic presence of the performing body that grounds the music, whether in the intimate fragility of Hamann's softly sung and hummed vocal tones or the clothing that rustles across a microphone on the opening `by the line'. The idea of a music inextricable from its material conditions is perhaps most strikingly communicated on the album's briefest piece `bruststärke (lung song)', composed from layered whistling recorded while Hamann suffered through an asthma flare up, the results halfway between field recordings of an imaginary aviary and the audiopoems of Henri Chopin. More than any of Hamann's previous solo works, a strong melodic sensibility runs through Aunes, even when, like on `seventeen fabrics of measure', the music hangs together by the merest thread. At other points, Hamann's love of pop music is more obvious: the rich synth harmonies of `by the line' could almost be a melting fragment of a backing track from Hounds of Love. The expansive closing piece `neither from nor toward' exemplifies the highly personal musical language that Hamann has developed in recent years through constant solo performance (and a rigorous discipline of instrumental practice), pairing two overdubbed voices with the boundless depth and harmonic richness of just-intoned cello notes, calling up Ockegham or Linda Caitlin Smith in its elegiac slow motion arcs. Hamann's most personal work yet, Aunes arrives in a striking sleeve reproducing a section of a painting made from sewn pieces of dyed wool by Wilder Alison, a friend and fellow resident at Akademie Schloss Solitude, one of the temporary homes where much of this music was recorded.

I want to introduce this work ‘Halos of Perception’ to you in the way Lisa introduced me to it, through the sharing of experiences.

Lisa and I met for a walk near South Yarra station to talk about this work, when inclement weather made it too wet to visit the tunnels. Moving almost seamlessly from a world of leisurewear, infinite milk alternatives and blaring neons to stretches of green by the water that brimmed with sounds and life, we saw a few people climbing the Burnley bouldering wall, butterflies suspended in the hot wind and lots of plants I wish I knew the names of. Overhead the cars rumbled like a ceaseless animal as we talked about hidden ecosystems, imagined spaces and networks of care.

Stemming from a serendipitous encounter with an original Cave Clan member that led to many underground adventures, this work explores the worlds that exist outside of our perceptions. By the river, I leafed through a selection of tunnel photos Lisa had printed off at Officeworks, revealing alien textures, tunnels that stretch on into abysses of their own, underground flowing streams. Light is sparse and delicate, something reflected by the flickering and wavering in Lisa’s piano compositions.

As we walked, we noticed the ways in which infrastructure is often designed to keep people out—cut doors into fencing and clipped wires show an active and ongoing defiance of this. We spoke about how her Cave Clan friend used to go down to this painted room and read in solitude, using candles for light. The way sound exists underground, encased in these hollow cement tunnels, a painted room with its own deep hum. How people used to hold underground shows, how there were rules for safety (no exploring after rain, never alone) that was shared with each other. This warmth and absorption of other’s experiences is present in Lisa’s work—it’s immersive, like wading in water.

We paused on the walk to eat berries and talk about how The Caretaker creates transitory worlds with recorded sound, how this technology captures memory, and the exploratory pursuits of Pauline Oliveros’ Deep Listening Band. These citations of memory and deep listening inform Lisa’s use of analogue and classical instruments, playback artefacts and acoustic feedback in her own world-building. When speaking about ‘Halos of Perception’, she describes it as a fascination with timbre and acoustic artefacts.

Ideas of networks and enmeshment are felt deeply in Lisa’s compositions, motifs overlaid over each other evoking the image of many hands interlinking playfully, tenderly, softly. The way her compositions delve into refraction and echo makes me think about the tunnels and the way they splinter off into many possibilities. Manipulated textures reminiscent of the chalky, earthy, moss air that perfumes the tunnels’ subterranean air. Tactile details that gesture towards close attention, verging on obsession.

This work is also about imagining ecosystems of potential. Lisa shared with me that during this project, she has been reimagining subterranean networks in dreams, thinking about oral traditions, and the way water moves—from the sky to the earth, through the ground, connecting all these spheres. Realised in collaboration with hyperreal video artist Tristan Jalleh, Lisa’s dream landscape melds waterfalls, leaks, flower graffiti, and hidden messages lit up by imagined light sources with existing subterranean networks. There’s a real sense of wonder in this world she has built, how the city can reveal itself to you with some patience and care, how the city and its secrets can find its way into your dreams.

— Panda Wong

"The Concert" is the first discographic collaboration between percussionist Alexandre Babel and visual artist Latifa Echakhch. The record is intimately linked to the eponymous exhibition presented at the Swiss Pavilion during the 59th Venice Art Bienniale.

For her exhibition in the Swiss Pavilion, Latifa Echakhch created an orchestrated and enveloping experience, a rhythmic and spatial proposal that allowed the visitor a complete perception of time and of his own body. What is the origin of rhythm? How does the body perceive time? How does the mind rearrange it? Can we substitute one perception for another, the visual for the sound? Can fragments of memory go back in time and recreate a different story?

Her proposal entered a dialogue with the building around it, designed by Bruno Giacometti. The artist revisited its architectural programme as well as the prototypical progression of these exhibition spaces, originally defined for the display of classical art. She appropriated the entirety of the spaces, simultaneously exploring continuity, movement and sequence. Their relationship to light, and the different sounds that emerge from them. Yet the exhibition was entirely silent and the musical composition "The Concert" functions as its sound rendering, by following a similar path.

This one-sided vinyl is a complementary and inseparable partner piece to the exhibition and its eponymous catalogue, the latter having been published in April 2022 by Sternberg Press. The music features field recordings made at the Swiss Pavilion itself as well as pre-recorded percussion sounds and significant contributions by the Berlin-based musicians Jon Heilbronn, Rebecca Lenton, Theo Nabicht, Nikolaus Schlierf.

The record, available only after the closing of Latifa Echakhch’s exhibition offers a concluding phase to the project. The resonance of its sensory score. It reactivates the experience of the physical journey of the installation, without imposing itself as a transcription or an illustration. Through texture, temporality and its totality, the record stands as a resonance of the rhythms that have structured the pavilion, the harmonies that have composed it and the sounds that have inhabited it.

Latifa Echakhch Lives and works in Vevey, Switzerland. She graduated from the École nationale supérieure d’arts in Cergy-Pontoise and the École nationale des beaux-arts in Lyon. Galleries representing her include kamel mennour (Paris and London), kaufmann repetto (Milan and New York), Dvir Gallery (Tel Aviv/Brussels) and Pace (New York). She took part in the main exhibition of the Venice Biennale Arte in 2011 and was awarded the prix Marcel-Duchamp in 2013 and the Zurich Art Prize in 2015. Through her interdisciplinary installations, Latifa Echakhch is recognized for the fine balance between forcefulness and fragility of her visual language, inserting surrealist and conceptual elements, and her use of symbols that–in her own words–are both "political and poetic".

Alexandre Babel Lives and works in Berlin. He is a drummer, composer, and curator. His projects redefine the boundaries of musical convention, confounding listener expectations in the conquest of new contexts. Babel has been the artistic director of the contemporary percussion group Eklekto 2013–2022. In 2020, the monographic Festival Les Amplitudes in La Chaux-de-Fonds focused on Babel’s compositional and curatorial work. He is a laureate of the Swiss Music Prize from the Federal Office of Culture 2021.

Franco-Swiss composer & director of INA GRM François J. Bonnet, aka Kassel Jaeger, returns with a new solo album. Following a compositional approach stemming from the musique concrète tradition, without adopting a structuralist aesthetic, Shifted in Dreams explores a wide range of instruments and techniques, going seamlessly from instrumental improvisation to field recording, via micro-editing and the use of asynchronous loops. Mixing the electronic sounds of an ARP 2500 synthesizer with the acoustic drones of a positive organ, articulating guitar layers with the resonance of the Cristal Baschet, bringing together recordings of slamming windows and sound produced by complex modular synthesis patches, Bonnet offers a rich and generous palette of sounds, inviting a constantly renewed sonic investigation.

Shelter Press extend a quietly cine-poetic invitation to visit the Outer Hebrides via immersive sounds - field recordings of psalm singing and local dialect - collected and arranged by interdisciplinary artist Joshua Bonnetta, going hand-in-hand with Shelter Press’ core interests in the fading light of its 10th year in operation. A beautiful artefact - complete with 60 page photobook.

Accompanied by an evocative photo study and access to an accompanying film and essay, Bonetta’s second release for Shelter Press following 2016’s ‘Lago’ imparts a real feel for the archipelago, off the north west coast of Scotland, where he was stationed during an artist’s residency during 2017-2019. Stitched together from observant field recordings and interviews with residents on the islands of Barra, Berneray, Harris, Lewis & North Uist, the work elicits a sense of timelessness in its slow drift between shores, hills, standing stones and the intimacy of its voices, including Gaelic spoken word, folk song and whistling. Save for the appearance of a plane overhead, the sounds of car and boat motors, plus a little bit of electronic disturbance that pull you into the modern era; the results practically imagine what it would have been like to visit the islands with a recording device at any point since the last ice age. 

For Bonetta, who hails from rural Canada, the similarities between his formative landscapes and those of Scotland must have appeared familiar, perhaps a subconscious recall/reminder that the two places shared a landmass, albeit 425 million years ago. His sound sensitive subtlety and cinematic ear in arranging his collected sounds serves to highlight the way the modern world only just infringes on Innse Gall’s ancient landscapes and only relatively modern tongues (if we’re thinking in geologic terms of scale). We hear the sounds of its avian population seamlessly eliding its humans in the whistling of Alick Macauley, and the natural cadence of of its mild oceanic climate mirrored in lilting Gaelic folksong, here performed by Calum McDonald, Joey Morrison, and Maggie Smith, and more generally practiced by only a tiny percentage of Scotland’s population (some 1%) but still surely alive in its meridian isles where time moves much more slowly.

With the nuance and poetry expected of a Shelter Press title, ‘Innes Gall’ reflects on the area’s anglicised name, meaning “islands of the strangers”, with calming, soberly documentarian results as heartwarming and fascinating as a visit to the area, just without the effort of travel, and from the comfort of your own living space. Bonnetta is incapable of ignoring the cinematic frame, and intersperses each shot with enough poetry to keep you entranced.

Felicia Atkinson’s music always puts the listener somewhere in particular. There are two categories of place that are important to »Image Langage«: the house and the landscape. Inside and outside, different ways of orienting a body towards the world. They are in dialogue, insofar as in the places Atkinson made this record—Leman Lake, during a residency at La Becque in Switzerland, and at her home on the wild coast of Normandy—the landscape is what is waiting for you when you leave the house, and vice-versa. Each threatens—or is it offers, kindly, even promises? —to dissolve the other. Recognizing the normalization of home studios these days, she revisited twentieth-century women artists who variously chose, and were chosen by, their homes as a place to work: the desert retreats of Agnes Martin and Georgia O’Keefe, the life and death of Sylvia Plath. Building a record is like building a house: a structure in which one can encounter oneself, each room a song with its own function in the project of everyday life.

At times listening to »Image Langage« is immediate, something like visiting a house by the sea, sharing the same ground, being invited to witness Atkinson’s acts of seeing, hearing, and reading in a sonic double of the places they occurred. In an aching moment of clarity in »The Lake is Speaking,« a pair of voices emerge out of the primordial murk of piano and organ, accompanying the listener to the edge of a reflective pool that makes a mirror of the cosmos. "I open my feet to fresh dirt, and the wet grass. I hold your hand. You hold his hand. In the distance without any distance. The comets, the stars." At other times, listening to »Image Langage« is more like being in a theatre, the composition a tangle of flickering forms and media that illuminate as best they can the darkness from which we experience it. On »Pieces of Sylvia,« a noirish orchestra drones and clatters beneath and around a montage of vocal images, stretching the listener across time, space, subjectivities. Atkinson says that "Image Langage" is like the fake title of a fake Godard film. There is indeed something cinematic about Atkinson’s work—not cinematic in the sense that it sounds like the score for someone else’s film, but cinematic in the sense that it produces its own images and langage and narratives, a kind of deliberate, dimensional world-building in sound.

»Image Langage« is built from instruments recorded as if field recordings, sound-images of instruments conjured from a keyboard, instruments Atkinson treats like characters, what she calls “a fantasy of an orchestra that doesn’t exist.” And then, speaking of Godard, there are the monologues, operating as both experimental-cinematic device and a literary style of narration. Voice can be a writerly anchor or a wisp of a textural presence. Atkinson’s capacious and slippery speech plunges into and out of the compositional depths, shifting shapes, channelling the voices of any number of beings, subjectivities, or elements of her surroundings—not unlike her midi keyboard, able to speak as a vast array of instruments.

»Image Langage« is an environmental record, in the vastest sense of the world. It is about getting lost in places imagined and real; it registers, too, the dizzying feeling of moving between such sites. It puts forth a concept of self that is hopelessly entangled with the rest of the world, born of both the ache of distance and the warmth of proximity.

For Félicia Atkinson, human voices inhabit an ecology alongside and within many other things that don’t speak, in the conventional sense: landscapes, images, books, memories, ideas. The French electro-acoustic composer and visual artist makes music that animates these other possible voices in conversation with her own, collaging field recording, MIDI instrumentation, and snippets of essayistic langage in both French and English. Her own voice, always shifting to make space, might whisper from the corner or assume another character’s tone. Atkinson uses composing as a way to process imaginative and creative life, frequently engaging with the work of visual artists, filmmakers, and novelists. Her layered compositions tell stories that alternately stretch and fold time and place, stories in which she is the narrator but not the protagonist.

When words trail off at the beginning of claire rousay’s »everything perfect is already here«, ornate instrumentation is waiting to fill a void left by the breakdown of language. Yet it becomes clear as we trace rousay’s collaged sonic pathway that breakdown, of meaning and also of melody, is also a place to rest. everything perfect… is made up of two extended compositions that cycle between familiarity and unknowing. There are seemingly infinite ways to feel in response to these pieces of music, which shift tone across their languid duration, earnest like a familiar song but unbound from the emotional didacticisms of lyrical voice and pop form.

rousay builds a fluid landscape around the acoustic contributions of Alex Cunningham (violin), Mari Maurice (electronics and violin), Marilu Donovan (harp), and Theodore Cale Schafer (piano), whose respective melodies weave gently in and out, sometimes steady, sometimes aching, sometimes receding altogether in deference to less overtly musical sounds. That is, percussive texture in the form of unvarnished samples and field recordings: the rattle and rustle and the stops and starts of life unfurling, voices sharing memories nearly out of reach, doors closing, wind against a microphone. Everything comes from somewhere in particular, possessing the veneer of the diaristic, but sound’s provenance is secondary here and so these details become tangled and fused. On this release I hear such details not as individual ornaments or stories but the collective architecture of the greater composition. It’s an architecture that is not quite formed and thus full of openings out to the world unfolding.

“The world unfolding,” that’s a kind way of saying change, movement, loss, transformation. Things rousay here indexes, not without shards of desire or pain, still somehow what I hear is coarse peace in the in-between. These two pieces sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Where am I now? What is different outside of me? What is different inside of me? Um. I think. everything is perfect is already here, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways.

The music guides a certain experience of the world around. In claire’s music there is this marriage—not just a pairing or juxtaposition but an interrelationship, an eventual confusion—of song/texture, narrative/abstraction, figure/ground. Everything comes from somewhere in particular but not just the voices, the field recordings, the what is being said or meant, what matters is the where you are now. There are so many ways of anchoring oneself in the present, some have to do with fantasy or storytelling and some with accepting what is.

These two compositions find peace between these modes. They sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Their mode of feeling is inquisitive. Where am I now? What has changed outside of me? What has changed inside of me? The music, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways.

From its earliest utterances, experimental music has been particularly disposed to transnational and cross-cultural collaboration. Seeking the answer for a fundamental problem - how to transcend the boundaries of difference, distance, and time - it presents a means to find common ground and communicate through the elemental form of sound. Over the last 5 years, this precisely what the duo of Félicia Atkinson & Jefre Cantu-Ledesma has achieved, intertwining sublime sonorities across the geographic expanses between their respective homes in France and the United States. Their third album for Shelter Press, ‘Un hiver en plein été’ (‘A winter in the middle of summer’) - the first to have been largely recorded by Atkinson and Cantu-Ledesma together in the same space - distills a mesmerizing pallet of acoustic and electronic sources into an open discourse of radically poetic forms, offering glimpses of warmth and intimacy waiting in the post-covid world to come.

Both veteran experimentalists with celebrated bodies of solo work behind them - each traversing the challenges of electroacoustic practice in their own singular ways - prior to their first recorded outing in 2016, Félicia Atkinson and Jefre Cantu-Ledesma had only crossed paths in person once, initially meeting in San Fransisco during 2009. The mutual bond formed during that brief encounter flowered into their first LP, ‘Comme Un Seul Narcisse’, followed two years later by 2018’s ‘Limpid As The Solitudes’. Both recorded remotely - sending files back and forth, fortified by conversations on a vast range of subjects - these two albums were guided by impassioned conceptual nods to Guy Debord, Baudelaire, Brion Gysin and Sylvia Plath, while seeking resolutions for the challenges and unique possibilities that working at a distance provoked.

Where the triumphs of its predecessors rose from the bridging of disparate moments and divergent spaces, ‘Un hiver en plein été’ culminates as a celebration of closeness, a result of Atkinson and Cantu-Ledesma working together in the studio, responsively in real time, for the first time. Recorded in Brooklyn during August of 2019 - a handful of months before the pandemic would impose chasmic distances across the globe - its six discrete works, carefully crafted and finalized over the ensuing year, evolve seamlessly across the album’s two sides, weaving a sprawling tapestry of sonority, within which both artists retaining their own voices and visions, while drawing each other towards uncharted ground.

Atkinson likens the recording of ‘Un hiver en plein été’ to have been akin to “a playground”, each artist “hungry for each sound, a bit like the rush in the Louvre in Godard’s Bande à part”, to which Cantu-Ledesma adds that the process seemed to have had “a mind of its own”, with both “along for the ride”. This organic sense of entropy and enthusiasm - a joyous exploration of the unknown - guides the momentum of the album’s evolving arc, as unfolding chasms of ambient space ripple with humanity, life, and fleeting glimpses of the actions that led to its material core.

Crafted from deconstructed melodic elements and drifting long-tones - laden with subtle nods to Indian classical ragas and free jazz - searching patterns of speech, textural elements captured within the studio and the outside world, and searching tonal and percussive interventions, ‘Un hiver en plein été’ coheres as a multi-faceted series of electroacoustic dialogues; nesting conversations between two artists working at the juncture of abstraction and narration, field recording and harmony, and the philosophical and phenomenological, in search for the meaning of friendship, and its manifestation in pure sound.

Both noted for strikingly forward-thinking bodies of solo work dating back to the 1990s, the duo of Andrew Pekler & Giuseppe Ielasi - collaborators for the better part of a decade - reemerge with 'Palimpsests’, their first outing with Shelter Press. Built from deconstructed layers of texture, tone, and arrhythmic percussiveness, the album’s 2 sides distill 6 years of work into 9 splintered, airy reimaginings of minimalism - each surprising, creatively rigorous, and startlingly beautiful - that rest at the outer reaches of contemporary electroacoustic practice and musique concrète.

Based in Berlin and Milan respectively, Andrew Pekler and Giuseppe Ielasi have individually carved singular paths across numerous disciplines within experimental music for more than 20 years, each deploying sampling, synthesis, and acoustic sources to weave their own, distinct worlds of sonorous abstraction. Brought together by years of friendship and a shared devotion to layered texture and complex, fractured structure, the pair first joined their creative energies in 2013, a collaboration that culminated as the LP, ‘Holiday For Sampler’, issued by Planam.

'Palimpsests’, the duo’s second outing, draws its material from a series of improvisations made by the Pekler and Ielasi in Milan during 2015. Over the ensuing six years, those recordings would undergo various transformations - cut, reworked, sampled, and added to by each artist, working at geographic distance between Berlin, Kyoto and Monza - before culminating, like the album’s title suggests, as a unique manifestation of musical palimpsest; “an object reused and altered, while still bearing visible traces of its earlier form”.

With each of the album’s compositions nodding toward a city with which Pekler and Ielasi hold biographical connections, 'Palimpsests’ constructs sound as poetic metaphor; a series of ghosts - traces of memory, image, and action - cut and reassembled, in cycling permutations, before been set into action at a glacial pace with layered, transparent forms.

Defined by remarkable restraint and pointillistic precision, across the album’s two sides Pekler and Ielasi weave the fractured remnants of their sessions - reduced to glitches and warbling fragments of texture and tonality - into pulsing expanses of spatial ambiance that defy imagism, blur the boundaries between the synthetic and organic - reducing their sources to a series of unknowns - recast the boundaries of electroacoustic practice on markedly singular terms.

Shelter Press is thrilled to present 'Palimpsests’, another brilliant outing from the duo of Andrew Pekler and Giuseppe Ielasi. Issued in a limited edition of 500 copies on black vinyl, with artworks on printed inner and outer sleeves by Traianos Pakioufakis.

Slipping Control derives from the text piece "Tztztztzt Î Í Í...." wrote last year by Ben Vida (and published as a book by Shelter Press). Composed to act as a score, a sound piece and as raw data for electronic control source, Tztztztzt Î Í Í... became the intrinsic element that tied all different pieces of art made by Ben Vida.