The combination of organ with electronics can create fascinating
worlds of sound, and one of my favourite contemporary discs
of recent years has been Han-Ola Ericsson’s The Four Beast’s
Amen (see review),
which I would urge on anyone willing to take on a wild inner
journey of the imagination. As the title suggests, Les douze
degrés du silence is a quieter affair, at least to start
with, the electronics more often than not creating an ‘augmented
reality’ rather than putting our perceptions through a sometimes
hellish hall of mirrors as Ericsson does. The pieces are brief,
intriguing and improvisatory; the sounds captured and transformed
live using computer programmes. The techniques used are outlined
in some detail in the booklet notes. Sound quality in the recording
is decent if not hugely spectacular, if that’s what you are
hoping.
Each number has its own title based on the vision of Dorothée
Quoniam, or Sister Marie-Aimée de Jésus (1839-1874). No. VIII
Silence de l’esprit is particularly haunting, taking
the already unearthly half-stop glissando effects of the organ
and turning them into something even more animal and unnerving.
This could easily have been given 25 minutes rather than the
meagre 2:55 we are allotted. Much of the music of Les douze
degrés du silence is very approachable, some of it even
sounding distinctly ecclesiastical. This rather easy-going character
moves us without a bump into the Symphonie de l’empereur
jaune, a rather lyrical opening Prelude taking
us into an overwhelming crescendo and climax, (In)harmonic
fear. The piece is a musical commentary on texts by 4th
century Chinese philosopher Zhuangzi and started out as an improvisation,
the present recording a recreation made with the organ of Sainte-Elisabeth
in mind.
There are some marvellous and magical effects along the way
in this piece, and numerous passages of static exploration of
sound which can captivate or irritate, depending on your point
of view. I like the way d’Alessandro often delivers on the promise
of moments of eloquence after periods of exploratory development,
the way he tempts with tonal teasers and arouses interest with
a variety of electronic effects. As is always the risk with
extended works of an improvisatory nature, there are a few passages
which defy categorisation as either interesting or eloquent,
and the attempts to make an upward glissando effect work in
track 18 can be held up as an example neither fish nor flesh.
I admire many of the effects we are given here, though struggle
a little to find the compositional integrity I feel is so strong
in Hans-Ola Ericsson’s disc. The subject of the music could
be almost anything, and given a blind audition of the piece
I suspect that China and the Yellow Emperor would be one of
the last associations which spring to mind.
These comments are probably just me being overly picky, but
sometimes I just wish composer/performers would explore and
develop just a few of their best and most effective ideas into
music with a distinctive and irreducibly powerful message, rather
than filling time with daisy-chains of enigmatic curios. The
final Chaconne “glossolalies” of the Symphonie
for instance, is a stand-alone masterpiece, gothic-horror chord
progressions heightened in effect and given nightmarish proportions
with gargling sounds of bestial suffering which grow as the
music develops, enveloping us in prehensile terrors. Yes, we’ll
have some more of that, please.
Dominy Clements
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Christophe d’Alessandro (organ)