Davies/Patterson/Troop

Wunderkammern
Another Timbre at37

Abstract abrasions and intonations make up this cabinet of curiosities constructed by three sound explorers from the United Kingdom. While the interaction on each track varies, depending on the instruments used, the overall plan attempts to blend textures in such a way that depth, volume and speed alter and shift almost imperceptibly to produce near-three-dimensional aural effects,

Each player’s background and instrument choices help define this “wunderkammern”. Welsh-born harpist Rhodri Davies, for instance, who here also uses ebows, electronics and preparations, specializes in redefining his instrument’s properties, often in the company of other timbre experimenters such as saxophonist John Butcher. Most senior of the three, writer/musician David Toop, who plays laptop, steel guitar, flutes and percussive devices, has over the years worked with partners as different as sound poet Bob Cobbing, director/actor Steven Berkoff and saxophonist Evan Parker. Prestwich-based Lee Patterson uses field recordings to mate familiar sounds with instrumental surfaces mutated with amplified devices. He regularly works in another band with violinist Angharad Davies.

Except for the odd harp glissandi or pluck and even more fragmented flute peep or lip oscillation, each of the six poetically titled tracks nearly rejects instrumental definition. Instead pressurized wave forms broken by radio-like static provides the ostinato underpinning. Simultaneously wave forms swell and dip in-and-out-of-focus revealing cue ball-like whacks, sampled bird calls, guitar twangs or stentorian harp glissandi.

Sometimes, as on “In ashes lies the Salt of Glory”, there’s a sense of timbral segmentation conveyed by the harp’s ponderous woodenness. Hand taps on the instrument’s body meet up with multiplied, computer-generated chiming, while understated percussive echoes meld intermittently and then make room for blurry twittering and disconnected high-pitched shrills. When these timbre-stretches abate, a drone remains.

Improvisations that encompass granular and synthesized timbre-altering characterize “In the dead body of a calf are generated bees”. At nearly 21 minutes, the CD’s lengthiest track, there’s still no diminishing of the closely allied timbre exploration. Swelling to fortissimo and segmented resonations, the initial hollow-sound pitches soon mutate. Suddenly apparent are suggestions of breaking glass, human-sounding cries and bell-pealing, all likely produced by Davies’ ebow and the motor-driven devices of the other players. A further variant reverses the process, concentrating these segments into a shuddering undifferentiated drone. Finally the thick pitch divides and exposes polyphonic surfaces, each of which appears to be aurally reflecting back upon one another. Obvious buzzing and twittering results as each surface comes into contact with the others, until kazoo-like intonation, extended harp-string quivers and scrapes against unyielding surfaces arise. Distantly, the harpist’s electronically extended glissandi, the flutist’s lip twisting mouthpiece kisses, and Patterson’s signal-processed echoes sequentially make their individual presence felt then dissolve as indistinct, yet rough tones.

An appreciation for non-figurative improvisation possessing hardly any distinctive instrumental tones is necessary for an acceptance of the creations of Davies, Patterson and Troop. Also necessary is the ability to take in the complete sound picture with no fear of abstraction.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. A salamander lives in the fire, which imparts to it a most glorious hue 2. From the ashes springs a seven-pointed flower 3. The toad with Colours rare through every side was pierc’d 4. In the dead body of a calf are generated bees 5. Whose falling drops from high did strain the soyl with ruddy hue 6. In ashes lies the Salt of Glory

Personnel: Rhodri Davies (harp, ebows, electronics and preparations); David Toop (laptop, steel guitar, flutes and percussive devices) and Lee Patterson (amplified devices, field recordings, etc.)

September 20, 2011

Rhodri Davies/Michel Doneda/Louisa Martin/Phil Minton/Lee Patterson

Midhopestones
Another Timbre at19

John Butcher/Rhodri Davies

Carliol

Ftarri 220

Rhodri Davies/Stéphane Rives/Ernesto Rodrigues/Guilherme Rodrigues/Carlos Santos

Twerf Neus Ciglau

Creative Sources CS 156 CD

When blazing new sonic trails it seems that Welsh harpist Rhodri Davies has a particular affinity for doing so alongside saxophonists, as these CDs recorded between 2007 and 2009 attest. Furthermore, listening to these sessions chronologically, it appears that Davies is becoming progressively more selfless with his timbral palate whether he’s joined by Japanese Onkyo practitioners or European formalists. Only on Twerf Neus Ciglau for instance, are the harp’s expected ringing tones heard. On the other CDs, unexpected textures produced by manual string preparations, electronics, an embedded speaker and other techniques associated with a pedal harp, a lever harp or an electric harp predominate.

Each setting is unique as well. Carliol is an exercise in individuality between the harpist and his long-time confrere and London-based saxophonist John Butcher. With France’s Michel Doneda in the reed chair, Midhopestones features the most unusual textures, probably because the other participants are Louisa Martin on laptop, Lee Patterson on amplified objects and processes plus distinctive English vocalist Phil Minton. Most traditional – in this context – of the discs is Twerf Neus Ciglau. Davies’ reed partner on this Lisbon-recorded session is French soprano saxophonist Stéphane Rives; electronics come from Carlos Santos, Ernesto Rodrigues plays viola, and his son Guilherme Rodrigues cello.

Rives’ tongue slaps and whistles work themselves into broken-octave concordance with the rustling and rubbed node variations from the strings. With Santos’ vibrating oscillations and flanging developing into undifferentiated drones, this locust storm of blurred buzzes is at points breached by the harp’s rasping strokes, sul tasto runs from the cello, wood-clacking chroamaticism from the string players or sonic wisps forced without key pressure from the saxophone’s body tube. As the cumulative, broken-chord exposition becomes louder it also becomes less cohesive, with rough timbres extruding every which way, until the piece concludes with a thinned, bubbling saxophone tone.

On the other hand, the sounds on Twerf… could be Heavy Metal compared to the British Folkie aesthetic that seems to characterize Midhopestones. Although identifying harp timbres are missing, so too, most of the time, are other individual traits – even Minton’s soundsinging. The vocalist’s unique tessitura only begins to assert itself during the lengthy “Crow Edge” and “Wharncliffe Side”, as it pushes aside electronic whizzes, harsh reed exhalation plus marimba-like wooden plops. Minton’s strained and nasally challenged falsetto gasps soon translate into nonsense syllables and mouth cackles, cries and burps. Similarly Doneda’s flat-line breaths are sturdily pushed through the horn’s body tube until unconnected grinds and thunderous sequences from the electronics supersede both men’s efforts.

By the final variant of “Wharncliffe Side” however, the concentrated and almost overbearing computer pulses clear away to reveal sweeping glissandi, rough strums and rebounds from the pedal harp; growling split tones and peeping tongue stops from the saxophone; and ghostly ululations from the top of Minton’s vocal range. With the resulting sounds resembling those created by slowing playback speed from 78 rpm to 33⅓ rpms, is the inspiring crescendo created live or pieced together through processing?

More affiliated with real time, the majority of Carliol’s improvisations are concerned with the application and extension of different saxophone and harp techniques. While the CD starts off with an engaged exercise in fortissimo feedback, the full extent of the partnership is expressed on subsequent tracks. “Ouse Poppy” for instance, which utilizes embedded harp speakers, contrasts the delays which resonate through the harp’s body with shrill peeps and beeps from the saxophone. As the tones subsequently thicken to near-chiaroscuro timbres, hand-tapped string extensions and reed split tones define each instrument’s individuality. “Lash”, on the other hand, molds portamento harmonies, staccato string strokes and rolled arpeggios from Davies into a sonic whole outlined against Butcher’s circular, signal processed-like chirps. Following broken-chord harmonies involving pressurized reed vibrations and percussive string thumps, the narrative diminishes, with extended squeaks as the coda.

Throughout this CD, differing harp processes move from flat-line pulses to energetic organ-like muliphonics to create symbiosis between strings and the saxophonist’s circular-breathed chirps, quacks and shrills. Although frequently mirroring the saxophonist’s multiphonic screams, Davies maintains individual harmonic intonation.

The Welsh harpist is constantly evolving new strategies to deal with unique and challenging situations. These CDs preserve literal records of how well he succeeds with each.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Carliol: 1. Pandon Bank 2. Lash 3.Gallow Gate 4. Scrogg 5.Ouse Poppy 6. Garth Heads 7. Distant Leazes

Personnel: Carliol: John Butcher (tenor and soprano saxophones, plus feedback, motors and embedded harp speaker) and Rhodri Davies (pedal harp, lever harp with embedded speaker, electric harp and Aeolian electric harp)

Track Listing: Midhopestones: 1. Strines 2. Crow Edge 3. Wharncliffe Side 4. Deepcar

Personnel: Midhopestones: Michel Doneda (soprano saxophone); Rhodri Davies (harp and electric harp); Louisa Martin (laptop); Lee Patterson (amplified objects and processes) and Phil Minton (voice)

Track Listing: Twerf: I

Personnel: Twerf: Stéphane Rives (soprano saxophone); Ernesto Rodrigues (viola); Guilherme Rodrigues (cello); Rhodri Davies (harp and electronics) and Carlos Santos (electronics)

December 29, 2010

Halliwell/Patterson

Terrain
Confront Collectors Series CCS8

Field recording sampled and granulated using amplified devices meet processed feedback and other advanced reed techniques on this notable British session. Altering his initial sources so that they’re divorced from their origin Lee Patterson creates a voice equal to that of Graham Halliwell’s amplified alto saxophone.

On the most memorable improvisations Patterson approximates the languages of underwater insects and plants, introducing sonic impulses that began as cicada chirping, stones skipping across a watery surface, motors turning or waves lapping against the shore. Patterson, who divides his time between improvising with the likes of harpist Rhodri Davies and creating outdoor sound installations, is matched in inventiveness by Halliwell, who has partnered other sound explorers like bassist Simon Fell. Encompassing strident circular trills or extended hollow-tube respirations, Halliwell’s lower-case blowing is punctuated by tongue slaps and pulsating trills, while his fortissimo feedback is destabilized to such an extent that partials and extensions of every sound can be heard.

On the penultimate track, Halliwell’s reed-biting feedback is so penetrating in volume and intensity that when bone-shaking church-organ-like pulsations are added by Patterson the result is visceral and nearly opaque. The duo’s final invention is buttressed with signal-processed reverberations, guttural overblowing and a steady undertow of resonating growls. Reaching a climax of buzzing polyphony, it deflates into dramatic pauses, then silence.

It’s obvious that this Terrain is anything but earth-bound.

-- Ken Waxman

-- For MusicWorks Issue #105

November 12, 2009