Private History of the Clouds (2009)
Infraction Records curates this new entry to the already considerable body of
collaborations involving Alio Die. There have already been communings with the
likes of Robert Rich, Mathias Grassow, and Vidna Obmana. Here, though, Stefano
Musso's fellow-travellers are lesser known but closer to home. Aglaia is an
Italian duo with a trio of albums on his Hic Sunt Leones label; Gino Fioravanti
and Gianluigi Toso come trailing credentials in therapy, writing, painting, and
teaching, to say nothing of alchemy and ortho-bionomy. In contrast with Musso,
who has fully two decades of musical endeavors behind him, they're comparative
novices. But you wouldn't have thought it. Theirs is a music whose apparent
stasis enfolds within it endless subtle micro-variations. They bring with them
from previous HSL releases an appealing aquatic/amniotic sound dimension,
characterized by a combination of electronic sounds (analogies as the sleeve
notes would have it) and processed acoustica moving as if in virtual circular
breathing. Slow waves of soundflow suggestive of psycho-acoustic energy (if you're
a believer, otherwise just go with the flow) come with peripheral fragments of
sonorities, carried on the wind, drifting as if at the edges of sleep, recalling
the way echo plays in open landscapes.
That's part of the method of this animist collective's historical unfolding of
its subjects' textures and trajectories, yielding a series of luminous aerated
tracts. Animists see a spiritual force residing in every element of the physical
world. Nature is believed to be alive, imputing an inner life to leaves, lakes
and the like. Dwelling on Private History of the Clouds brings this to mind
before even entering its audio world, particularly in light of Alio Die's
predilection for "passion, nature and awakening" and Aglaia's for
worlds of feeling ("mondi sensibili," as a previous album was called).
But, lest this kind of talk scare off those averse to nature-hugging, note that
the musical Grace inspiring this project is more a familiar of Pandit Prath Nan
and Brian Eno than of Windham Hill and Hearts of Space.
From opener "Cumulus Congestus" (heaps of cloud masses) to "Cirrus"
(wispy curls) the history unfolds couched in way-up-high, pure aetherial
tonefloat, with odd bold blares of Fioravanti's analogies, swathed in showers
and sundry susurrations of the lower earth and skies released from capture
within his accomplices' arcane devices. There's a sense of holism across the
album's six movements, though variations are clearly discernible. "Stratus"
(blanket-like layers), for example, bears the characteristic medievo-gothic
stamp of works in Musso's recent Castles sonorisation series - the familiar
drones and loops and field recordings providing a subtly evolving canvas for
trails of
A. Lockett