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Murcof " Lost in Time "

Reviews

Mexican electronic musician Fernando Corona goes by the name of Murcof. Lost in Time is the soundtrack to Patrick Bernatchez’s film of the same name. Corona’s electronic compositions alternate between the holy and the unholy, capable of ascending and descending, and thus revealing both the angelic and the terrifying. Murcof’s music is above and below, its chapters somewhere between Heaven and Hell. Lost in Time’s two parallel narratives are ultimately entwined with one another. You can hear these narratives in the music and see it in the image. One piece can be considered thunderous and malevolent to its core, while another chapter, immediately following on, will be Heaven-sent, a beautiful aria in a clearing of peace and echoes; out of time rather than lost in time. The painful, ugly process of death, the frosting over of things, can be heard in the midnight drones, but there’s a resurrection to come, a new life emerging out of the darkness, and these themes of perpetual renewal are central to Lost in Time, each ending leading to a new beginning. A helmet-clad, faceless rider and his horse fill the screen, lost in a magnificently blank and bleak landscape of ice and snow, a merciless, desolate, and hostile sheet of white. Lost to the elements, absent in its unknown geography, the music is lost in space and time. The second narrative follows a strange scientific experiment, but both narratives embed themselves in dark and dystopian science-fiction. The two protagonists are ‘beings who are forever trapped in a time loop where life and death ceaselessly rotate’, the cold, sterile geography manifesting as an alien presence. The aria is slowly erased by a cold-hearted drone. The electronic current slithers over barren ground, a low, devilish thing sweeping across the ice lands. Vacant save for a few people, the music feels isolated and vengeful. Black figures walk on and on, moving hesitantly towards their Area X, their awaiting fate, silhouetted against the whiteout. Their presence is an anomaly; their steps are doomed. The original soundtrack to the film blends the aria of the Goldberg Variations, sung by Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal, with Murcof’s dark undercurrents. They spill into the arias, overtaking them with oily tendrils of menace and subterfuge. The darker drone feels disconnected from the comfortable light of the aria, its distance increasing all the time. Releasing on the aptly-named Glacial Movements, the music is pretty darn cold – cold enough for a thick coat – but at its end, the drone begins to melt, its higher, crystalline notes beginning to drip, leaking from splintering cracks in the ice, and this seems to suggest an approaching re-emergence. A thawing is underway, to be revealed at a later date. Murcof’s music is patient and powerful. The engulfing sound devours everything it comes into contact with – perfect for an area so removed from everything else...FLUID RADIO
Murcof (Fernando Corona, nato nel 1970 a Tijuana) ha all’attivo cinque dischi su Leaf (quattro album e un progetto su commissione), alcune colonne sonore e lavori a più mani con artisti come Philippe Petit ed Erik Truffaz. Nel 2014 esce in doppio vinile la sua colonna sonora per il film sperimentale “Lost in Time” di Patrick Bernatchez. Trattasi di materiale originale di Murcof, che però in qualche modo incorpora l’aria delle “Variazioni Goldberg” di Bach (già oggetto dell’interesse di Bernatchez), cantata da Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal. Glacial Movements ripubblicherà questa colonna sonora in formato cd il 28 settembre 2018, non priva di contenuti inediti. Pare infatti che l’etichetta puntasse da tempo a una collaborazione con Fernando Corona, senza dimenticare che il film in questione ha per scenario una distesa di neve e ghiaccio...THE NEW NOISE
Lost In Time segna il ritorno del musicista e producer messicano Murcof, aka Fernando Corona, dopo le due uscite del 2016: l’EP e poi il disco Statea in compagnia della pianista Vanessa Wagner. Il nuovo disco pubblicato dall’italiana Glacial Movements è in realtà la colonna sonora di un film di Patrick Bernatchez e si basa, come racconta il comunicato stampa, sul “mescolamento dell’aria delle Variazioni Goldberg cantate da Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal con le composizioni di Murcof”.SENTIRE ASCOLTARE
Fernando Corona is Murcof, a Mexican electronica artist who has gradually scaled back the beats in favour of samples and inspiration taken from modern classical music. Lost In Time intersects with the film of the same name, and uses aspects of the Goldberg Variations in order to create a deep and powerful new work. Released by Glacial Movements”.NORMAN RECORDS
Released later this week is Mexican electronic artist Murcof‘s latest, Lost in Time which we previewed (videos, etc.) a while back here. It’s fourteen tracks broken into Chapitres I-XI with an intro, an epilogue and an audio exclusive track. The haunting lead-in is a melodic drone that reaches the entire audio spectrum like tentacles unravelling to every corner. It’s a foggy dim ambient that is multi-layered like an elusive dream. Fernando Corona has really come full circle from his early techno proclivities to concoct an orchestral masterwork that comports lightness and dark for our difficult social time in history. From the collective of choral arrangements to their twisted somber echoes and shrill distortions you are witnessing a true artist at his most lucid in terms of editing and the overall enchanted mix.The spirit of the soundtrack must illuminate, ruminate or otherwise reinforce the cinema in which it’s attached to. Though I’ve only seen a few of the short clips yet not the extended feature, it has to these eyes, exceeded in its representation on that front. The luminous flow between open channel, sweet and intrepid piano keystrokes with the chorus and ambient white noisescape gently shifts in each vignette, or Chapitre. Corona has this sensitive, yet edgy way of combining disparate elements that buzz just out of reach, as well as making sense of misshapen, melancholy chords.It’s got effervescent pockets that are filled with prolonged keys, whammied feedback, and some light jagged distortion. When random wind instruments enter I hear a distant cousin of Philip Glass (as heard on his Qatsi trilogy), but then all becomes so soft so suddenly, eclipsing the bolder passages here. That is done quite effortlessly, or so it “seems” to the ears of an experienced listener. He never loses sight to re-emerge as on Chapitre VIII where out of the quietude comes a reverberating clash, a resonant action that tenders tangible after shocks. The atmosphere becomes a ghostly barren environment in its wake. If you have binge-watched HBO’s Westworld you will be instantly drawn into this universe concocted by Murcof, one where the post-apocalyptic is not only an alternate reality, but within our risky reach. His use of chords and tones collide nicely in the final act of Chapitre XI here. It’s a blistering whirl of nightmare-ish drift that seeks the heights of airspace. The Epilogue draws back down into an ambient calm, slow disembodied keys resonate into gray particles until the rumble of Chapitre N (piste audio exclusive sur GM) enters. It’s an alienized dark ambient nourished in a dubious isolated space. It just floats with a lustrous air about it vanishing almost deafeningly into white light..TONESHIFT by TJ Norris
Da ormai oltre un decennio, Fernando Corona ha intrapreso un percorso ellittico di collaborazioni, colonne sonore ed esibizioni estemporanee, che l’ha di fatto allontanato dalla produzione di marcato stampo elettronico degli esordi, distogliendolo da quella declinazione del suo alias Murcof, interrottasi con “Cosmos” (2007), mentre la successiva lettera “o” dell’annunciato “Oceano” non ha ancora trovato manifestazione concreta. Benché anche nel caso di “Lost in Time” si tratti di musica allegata a immagini (quelle dell’omonima pellicola Patrick Bernatchez), l’ampiezza sonora e narrativa dell’opera induce a considerarla un significativo tassello dell’esperienza creativa recente dell’artista messicano, le cui fascinazioni classiche sono nell’occasione insite nella natura stessa della colonna sonora, sviluppata a partire da una versione delle “Goldberg Variations” cantata dai Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal. Da quella base, Murcof dispiega un itinerario sonoro che rispecchia l’immaginario naturalistico della pellicola, che rimanda agli sconfinati spazi ghiacciati da sempre oggetto di indagine da parte dell’etichetta Glacial Movements, che non a caso pubblica “Lost In Time”. Tale legame concettuale trova duplice canale di svolgimento nelle quattordici tracce del lavoro, strutturato come una vera e propria sinfonia ripartita in “capitoli”: da un lato, vi è la maestosità di aperture orchestrali ed elevazioni atmosferiche solenni, dall’altro le risonanze di frequenze silenti e inquiete risonanze ambientali. Gli oltre cinquanta minuti del lavoro rispecchiano così fedelmente la traccia narrativa da essi completata, dischiudendo scenari di soverchiante estensione naturale, frutto di un’ibridazione quanto mai avanzata di incessante ricerca sonora e ambience cinematico-orchestrale.MUSIC WON'T SAVE YOU
Dallo spazio infinito di Cosmos – il suo lavoro più elogiato che risale al lontano 2007 – alla ciclicità del tempo – anche questo non misurabile – di Lost In Time, il nuovo album di Murcof appena stampato da Glacial Movements, etichetta italiana tra le più autentiche se parliamo di ambient e droning, di musiche prossime al congelamento tra gli spazi innevati dei due poli terrestri. Sono gli ambienti gelidi e ostili di un disco che illustra come il compositore messicano abbia gradualmente preso le distanze da quello che fino alla metà dello scorso decennio è stato il cuore pulsante della sua musica: ovverosia un ibrido tra composizioni classiche del Novecento e battiti elettronici in 4/4; una combinazione stridente e tuttavia elegante, che giocoforza era legata alla temperie del periodo, ai capisaldi estetici della musica elettronica di quegli anni, dalla techno che ripensa sé stessa in chiave minimal fino ai sabotaggi glitch. Lost in Time è però un capitolo a sé stante, un lavoro che va compreso nel suo insieme e nella sua originaria funzione di colonna sonora per il film omonimo dell’artista canadese Patrick Bernatchez, nel quale due narrazioni parallele, ambientate tra il ghiaccio e la neve di un paesaggio polare danno vita ad una sorta di parabola sul tempo. Ambedue le trame si ripetono ciclicamente, alternando vita e morte, sublime ed effimero, presenza ed assenza: in prima battuta, verrebbe quasi da pensare a un corrispettivo per immagini dei Disintegration Loops di William Basinski. Negli undici Chapitre della colonna sonora, che inoltre include introduzione, epilogo e una traccia esclusiva composta appositamente per Glacial Movements, i toni evangelici e celestiali delle arie di Bach cantate a Montréal dal coro Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal (si tratta delle Goldberg Variations, motivo di interesse tanto per il canadese quanto per il messicano) collidono con le oscure composizioni elettroniche di Murcof, massive e piene di increspature. Ancor più che nel succitato Cosmos, Murcof stende lunghi accordi che vanno alla deriva, erosioni del suono quasi fossero metafore sullo scioglimento dei ghiacciai. Note sostenute riempiono distese sconfinate, come nel disco di Scanner, The Great Crater, uscito lo scorso anno proprio su Glacial Movements: anche quello solcava il Polo Nord, ne rompeva i ghiacci e ne indagava le viscere tra distorsioni luminose e oscurità imperscrutabili. Di Murcof, Lost In Time è in potenza il disco più propriamente dark-ambient, sebbene diversi brani offrano vedute paradisiache, oasi celesti, intermezzi onirici. Bordoni cupi e imponenti vanno incontro a una inevitabile degradazione; sfumano lentamente frammentandosi nel silenzio, nel nulla, e solo così lasciano intravedere quanto spesso e profondo sia il corpo sonoro di questa musica («The body is a collection of fragments», David Toop). Il peso di una presenza dedotto in base alla sua assenza. Stando alla lettura che ne ha dato TJ Norris nella sua recensione, Lost In Time presenta un interessante parallelo con Westworld, la acclamata serie TV prodotta da HBO, e con il suo universo post-apocalittico che è molto più di una realtà alternativa. Ma le atmosfere del nuovo Murcof rimandano a un’altra serie TV uscita quest’anno e passata un po’ in sordina. The Terror, prodotta da AMC e tratta dal romanzo omonimo di Dan Simmons, è una serie storica imbevuta di horror: racconta la fallimentare spedizione, avvenuta nel 1846 a bordo delle due navi più tecnologicamente avanzate dell’epoca, alla volta del famoso passaggio a nord-ovest. La serie ci immerge in un mondo alieno e glaciale, dove il terrore di non tornare più e di trascorrere gli ultimi giorni di vita lì, letteralmente bloccati tra i ghiacci, è accompagnato da un’altra grande paura, quella di una spaventosa creatura che sappiamo dare la caccia ai marinai, ma che puntualmente tarda a manifestarsi. L’equipaggio vive, anzi sopravvive, portando addosso questo terrificante presentimento. E così risuonano le musiche di Lost In Time: come un presagio.SENTIREASCOLTARE
28 września nakładem włoskiej wytwórni Glacial Movements, specjalizującej się w ambientowych brzmieniach, światło dzienne ujrzał album Murcofa „Lost In Time”. Wydawnictwo stanowi ścieżkę dźwiękową do obrazu Patricka Bernatcheza o tym samym tytule. Ścieżka została skomponowana pierwotnie przez Murcofa w 2014 r. i stanowi połączenie z Wariacjami Goldbergowskimi J. S. Bacha, wykonywanymi przez chór Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal. Na „Lost In Time” składa się trzynaście utworów skomponowanych wcześniej jako soundtrack do filmu oraz utwór czternasty, przygotowany specjalnie na wydanie dla Glacial Movements. Struktura i klimat tych czternastu utworów zostały ukształtowane na głębokich dźwiękach pianina, rozciągających się powoli i majestatycznie. Brzmienie jest tu wzniosłe, co wzmagają wokale chóru, ale nie wyniosłe, momentami nurtujące, a jednocześnie spokojne, jak nieuniknione przeznaczenie. Wydawać się może, że te dwa uczucia nie mogą się spotkać. „Lost In Time” utwierdza w przekonaniu, że jak najbardziej. Wytrychem staje się wrażliwość. Wyjątkowa, często dręcząca strona ludzkiego ja, jeden z ostatnich bastionów duchowych człowieczeństwa, odróżniający nas od zwierząt. Mniej więcej od momentu kiedy ludzkość stwierdziła, że przestanie się czegokolwiek bać, w sztuce ścierają się dwa nurty jej postrzegania. Jeden wzniosły, stawiający jej wytwory w świetle sacrum. Drugi zmierzający do spauperyzowania sztuki samej w sobie, wprowadzenia do galerii sztuk ceramiki toaletowej, zdjęć puszek fasoli itp., i wpakowania w odbiorcę narcystycznego przekonania, że „ty też możesz być artystą”. Są jednak przykłady artystycznych wizji, które omijają te dwa skrajne nurty. Trzecia droga jest może mniej słyszalna czy widoczna, ale niezwykle cenna, bo opiera się na prostym założeniu, w którym twórca tworzy swoją sztukę dla ludzi i im właśnie oddaje ją z pełnym zaufaniem, że dokonają nie tylko jej obiektywnej ale i szczerej oceny. Taka sztuka nie wymaga zabiegów PR, reklam czy technik manipulacyjnych. Jest też jedyną równoprawną relacją w sferze artystycznej. W umiejętności tworzenia tak oddziałującej sztuki jedni upatrują ingerencji boskiej, inni wyjątkowego talentu. Fernando Corona Murillo od lat idzie tą trzecią drogą, tworząc muzykę wyjątkowo piękną i poruszającą. Bez wątpienia Meksykanin jest przykładem wielkiego talentu, ale jego sukces i uznanie nie wynikają tylko z talentu, a także z niebywałej wrażliwości, pokory i szacunku do odbiorcy. Murcof nie wypowiada się często, a jeśli już to robi to ze skromnością. Od dziecka wychowywany był przez ojca tak, by znał kanon muzyki klasycznej i jej korzenie, a nie tylko aktualne trendy. Bo korzenie są bardzo ważne. O wyjątkowości artysty i wielkiego oddania dla drugiego człowieka świadczy również to, że Murcof przez kilka lat pracował w San Diego w ośrodku dla osób starszych i śmiertelnie chorych. W pierwszej chwili fakty te mogą wydawać się nieistotne, ale kiedy słucha się wyjątkowo poruszających nagrań Murcofa, nie da się odciąć od myśli, jak wielką wrażliwością musi cechować się ich twórca. Za każdym razem odrywa się ona od muzycznych ocen, etykiet i rachunku zysków. Słyszysz, że Murcof będzie wydawał nową płytę i po prostu wiesz, że znajdziesz na niej piękną muzykę, którą pokochasz. Tak samo jest i w tym przypadku. „Lost In Time” jest płytą przepiękną, w której zakodowane zostało niepojęte zrozumienie dla jednostki. To więcej niż tylko kolejna dobra płyta ambientowa. Przywiodła mi na myśl twórczość Krzysztofa Kieślowskiego. Zapętlające się motywy melodyczne z jednej strony wznoszą, uskrzydlają, a z drugiej powoli ciągną ku trudnej, szarej rzeczywistości. Na „Lost In Time” niekiedy nawet cisza jest muzyką. Powolne, ciężko opadające dźwięki milkną dyskretnie w chwilach długich pauz. Najnowszy album Murcofa to wybitna muzyka kontemplacyjna, refleksyjna, wewnętrznie łamiąca ale równocześnie bliska człowiekowi. Jak znaki zestawione w chińskim słowie „kryzys”, w którym jeden oznacza zagrożenie, a drugi szansę. 28 września 2018 | Glacial Movements Records PS: 25 listopada Murcof wystąpi w Polsce w ramach IX Międzynarodowego Festiwalu Ambientalnego, który w dniach 24 – 25 listopada będzie odbywać się we Wrocławiu. Szczegóły wydarzenia w tym linki do biletów znajdziecie w dedykowanym wydarzeniu na Facebooku – link. Polecam!NOWAMUZYKA
De Mexicaanse muzikant Fernando Corona is al sinds de jaren 90 actief, maar breekt pas vanaf 2002 echt door met zijn elektronische project Murcof waarmee hij neoklassiek koppelt aan onder meer IDM en ambient. Naast solowerken heeft hij ook samen met Eric Truffaz, Philippe Petit en Vanessa Wagner muziek gepubliceerd. In 2009 brengt hij zijn eerste en ook wel heel fraai soundtrack La Sangre Iluminada uit. Dat is kennelijk bevallen, want in 2014 verschijnt de tweede, namelijk Lost In Time voor de gelijknamige film van Patrick Bernatchez. Het is een behoorlijk ijzig werk geworden waarop Murcof neoklassiek koppelt aan isolationistische ambient en drones. Zijn duistere stukken worden afgewisseld dan wel aangevuld met de prachtig serene zang van het jongenskoor Les Petits Chanteurs Du Mont-Royal en emotievol pianowerk. Het levert een biologerend en aangrijpend werk op. Helaas toen alleen op vinyl verkrijgbaar. Gelukkig heeft het prestigieuze label Glacial Movement deze nu ook op cd uitgegeven. Het is dan ook muziek die perfect bij het label past. Het lange wachten wordt nog eens beloond met een mooie bonustrack. Geduld is een schone zaak!!Subjectivisten
Suono che scaturisce da immagini in movimento per divenire esso stesso visione, potente proiezione di un immaginario sempre più complesso e sfaccettato. Nata come commento dell’omonimo film sperimentale del canadese Patrick Bernatchez risalente al 2014, l’immersiva trama risonante plasmata da Fernando Corona in “Lost in time” trova adesso nuova e ampliata forma divenendo pubblicazione autonoma che ulteriormente sancisce un’attitudine all’ibridazione ed uno scostamento da quella dimensione marcatamente sintetica cifra stilistica della fase iniziale del suo percorso artistico sotto lo pseudonimo Murcof. Assecondando il movimento ciclico basato sull’alternanza degli opposti che informa il flusso video di Bernatchez, il musicista messicano costruisce un monumentale scenario definito dall’incontro di ariose armonie dal tono solenne, che trovano il loro apice nell’interpretazione vocale delle Variazioni Goldberg di Bach ad opera de Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal, e oscure frequenze pervase di inquietudine in lenta e graduale espansione. Da questo costante oscillare si delinea un maestoso itinerario di lunghi piano sequenza che esplorano algidi scenari disegnati da fluttuazioni alla deriva intercettate e decostruite da ruvide increspature cariche di tensione.È un incedere carico di greve epicità che giunge al termine soltanto per decretare un nuovo punto di avvio che dichiari in modo inequivocabile l’impossibile soluzione di continuità di un ciclo infinito che si reitera fuori da ogni connotazione spazio-temporale.SOWHAT
FERNANDO CORONA MURILLO PO RAZ KOLEJNY UDOWADNIA, ŻE KOMPONOWANIE MUZYKI KONTEMPLACYJNEJ, FILMOWEJ I DO GŁĘBI REFLEKSYJNEJ TO NAJSŁUSZNIEJSZY Z JEGO MUZYCZNYCH WYBORÓW.Kompozycje zawarte na albumie Lost in Time skomponowane zostały przez Murcofa w roku 2014 jako ścieżka dźwiękowa do eksperymentalnego obrazu Patricka Bernatcheza. Film noszący ten sam tytuł to niespełna pięćdziesięciominutowa opowieść osadzona w bliżej nieokreślonej przestrzeni i czasie, w których to przeplatają się dwie równoległe narracje. Pierwsza z nich podąża śladem tajemniczego jeźdźca na koniu, druga odkrywa przed widzem tajniki bliżej nieopisanego eksperymentu naukowego. Z lodowych kadrów i powolnych najazdów kamer bije nieopisany chłód, który wyziera także z głośników niemalże wszystkich trzynastu, pierwotnie napisanych kompozycji. Na wydawnictwie zaprezentowanym przez włoski Glacial Movements otrzymaliśmy dodatkowo jedną kompozycję przygotowaną przez Murcofa specjalnie na tę premierę.Ścieżki dźwiękowe w wykonaniu kompozytora z Meksyku zawsze oślepiają słuchacza jaskrawym światłem, choć nie zawsze jego barwa pozostaje ciepła i ogrzewająca przez dłuższy moment. Zawsze jednak mamy do czynienia z potężną głębią i nietuzinkową umiejętnością łączenia tego co delikatne z tym co wydaje się jedynie drażniącą strukturą dźwięku. W podobny sposób odebrałem Lost in Time już po pierwszym odsłuchu. Album wypełniają rodzące się z ciszy, silnie akcentowane strumienie światła przepływające od chóralnej, ambientowej bieli ku refleksyjnie łamiącym się zakamarkom kadrów, w których nie pozostało nic poza przeszywającym chłodem zimowej aury. Wszystko to jednak dzieje się w znacznie bardziej ascetycznej formie wyrazu, niż było to chociażby na La Sangre Iluminada czy wydanym dekadę temu krążku The Versailles Sessions. Przepełniony pauzami i zawahaniami ambient, nie został wykreowany od tak, nie powstał na drodze przypadkowego eksperymentu z chórem Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal. Nie można w pełni poznać walorów nowego albumu, nie wracając do poprzednich dokonań Corony. Kompozytor przebył długą i niezwykle pouczającą drogę kariery muzycznej, podczas której rozpoczął od oswajania odbiorców z abstrakcyjną i skomplikowaną elektroniką po to aby udowodnić, że jej harmoniczna baza ma swoje korzenie w muzyce klasycznej i barokowej.Fonograficzny dorobek Murcofa nie obfituje w rozliczne premiery, a częstotliwość następujących po sobie albumów i zaangażowanie w poszczególne prace sugeruje, że dominuje tu szacunek do dźwięku i pokora wobec sztuki jako materii dostępnej dla nielicznych. Można zaryzykować stwierdzeniem, że konsekwentnie prowadzona ewolucja brzmienia, może w przyszłości doprowadzić artystę do jeszcze większego izolacjonizmu. Czy musimy się jednak obawiać konsekwencji takich zmian? Przyglądając się mrocznym sekwencjom i w wyjątkowo izolującym rzeczywistość kadrom z jakimi mamy do czynienia w obrazie Patricka Bernatcheza , które to kompozytor potrafi ubrać w dźwięki milionów, przepięknie błyszczących, śnieżnych drobinek unoszących się tuż nad powierzchnią ziemi. Nawet gdyby cisza miała trwać wiecznie to i tak jestem spokojny..FYH!
Lost In Time is a pretty exciting new offering, from one of my all time favorite cinesonic producers, Fernando Corona, whose project, Murcof, I’ve been following since his Leaf days, back in 2002. This release is a bit unexpected, and it’s also fascinating to find it on Glacial Movements [although, not too surprising] which has been behind many of the celebrated albums of the last decade. Lost In Time is indeed a soundtrack to Patrick Bernatchez‘s same-titled film “a sound project that is part of the explorations around Bach’s “Goldberg Variations” initiated in Berlin in 2010,” but, unlike most cinematic scores, this album can be enjoyed completely on its own, performing to the story in your mind.The journey begins with a pretty drone-like, bleak, and eerie opener, sparse in fluctuations of the themes, but incredibly textured in frequency and dynamics. I always want to play the “Introduction” pretty loud, before it subsides into a splendid choral piece, performed by Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal, an all-boys choir from the St. Joseph’s Oratory of Mount Royal, in Montreal, Canada. At first, this mere transition seems a little odd, but as the forces of light and darkness battle on the stage, the powerful scenes of prophecy and revelations are unveiled. I absolutely love the nearly demonic growls of the synthesizer, the sounds of which I recognize from Corona’s collaboration with Vanessa Wagner on Statea (Infiné, 2016), engage with the solo keys of the piano, acoustics of the space, and most importantly, the overall perception of movement through sound.This is a stunning composition of contrasting forces, each playing against each other in a perpetual tangled ballet. One can nearly extract the religious references from the aesthetic and the concept, or one can simply relate to the music through saints and through demons of their own. The particular use of the angelic Latin chanting by the church choir propels the album to a nearly spiritual experience, without sounding too dogmatic of its essence and its sense. A brilliant entry in the already magnificent catalog of music for this artist and the label. A standing ovation from me!HEADPHONE COMMUTE
Najnoviji album „Lost in Time” (Izgubljen u vremenu) Fernanda Korone poznatijeg kao Murcof, koji je 28. septembra objavila italijanska diskografska kuća Glacial Movements.Murkof je jedan od najpoznatijih umetnika na polju eksperimentalne elektronike koji dolazi iz Meksika. Od 2006. godine ovaj muzičar živi u Barseloni. Njegova dela odlikuje minimalistički elektronski zvuk u kojem se nalaze karakteristike ambijentalne i dron muzike, muzik konkret, kao i uticaja kompozicija Mortona Feldmana i Arva Perta. Pored ambijentalnih i dron struktura, Murkof svoj ritmički arsenal izvodi iz minimalističkog tehna, što je bilo izraženije na njegovim prethodnim ostvarenjima. Poslednjih godina Korona se okrenuo prevashodno radu sa akustičnim instrumentima, a 2008. je radio na projektu Versajske sesije na kojima je dao svoju elektroakustičku reintepretaciju francuskog baroka. Murkof takođe često sarađuje sa muzičarima različitih stilskih usmerenja od džez trubača Erika Trifaza, majstora indijske table Talvina Singa, do pijaniste Frančeska Tristana i kompozitora Filipa Ptija.Album Izgubljen u vremenu je nastao kao muzika za istoimeni eksperimentalni film vizuelnog umetnika Patrika Bernašeza u kojem susrećemo dva paralelna narativa: prvi se obraća figuri neznanog jahača sa šlemom koji na konju luta pustopoljinom prekrivnom ledom i snegom, izgubljen u prostoru i vremenu, dok drugi aludira na neobičan naučni eksperiment. Atmsofera je nestvarna, jezovita, ali i ispunjena svedenom onostranom lepotom.RADIO BEOGRADE
Patrick Bernatchez‘s film Lost In Time was originally produced a good seven or eight years ago and the soundtrack that Murcof produced for this double narrative take of life and death was originally released on vinyl back in 2014. The good people at Glacial Movements have chosen to re-issue it on CD and they really are the most suitable label for making this slow moving, frozen dronescape available again.The film follows the exploits of a mysterious horse and rider, both of whom are clad in helmets and both of whom seem reliant on the other to survive in what appears to be a frozen wilderness. The other narrative appears to refer to an inexplicable scientific experiment, but it is the dark images of horse and rider set against a stark white backdrop that produce the startling effect against which Murcof pits his various soundscapes. Murcof is most well known for his drone work and this soundtrack does not disappoint. Where it may differ from other outings is the interaction between those dark settings and the choral output of the Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal. This children’s choir that was first formed in the 1950s has about 210 members and has had the opportunity to sing in all manner of situations. Here they are tackling the aria from Bach‘s Goldberg Variations and Murcof is interspersing it with his own structures to produce a highly unusual juxtaposition. There is a keening element to the opening drone with the subtlest of rhythms moving throughout, like resonant black winds moving branches to and fro. It is a remorseless environment and the injection of feedback gives a sense of anger or frustration as it grows louder and more overwhelming. It begins to drift away and into the mix the choir is ushered, making things much more hopeful and positive. It feels like the dawning of a new day, but it seems to be a false dawn as the sound becomes a little wilder and the vocals a little screechier until the drone takes over again, and the air turns a little more negative.The drone is kind of relentless, even with the advent of strings to calm things down, but it is only temporary. A new lull arrives in section five, which consists of sparse piano droplets with plenty of sustain and a burst of spacey organ rippling. There is a touch of the slow motion feel of 2001: A Space Odyssey here and with the sprinkling of Theremin at least goes some way to settling down the vibe. The moments of uplift only ever prepare us for a further descent and some mono synth stabs, deep and hazardous, are set against a loop of the choir like some sort of battle of good against if not evil, then maybe negative space. Here and there as the piece progresses, moments of light are introduced, sudden explosions and synthy attacks; a delightfully mournful, repetitive piano motif with an air of descent finds the drone lighter for once, but these sparks don’t last. As we drift towards the gradual dissipation of the work, there is no real resolution, and that makes perfect sense as the film’s protagonists are stuck in a loop of life and death from which there appears to be no escape. Interestingly, one other comparison I had was the scene from French TV series Les Revenants where the woman police officer and the main female character are trying to escape in a car along the edge of the dam, but just keep re-appearing in the same place. Some of Murcof’s experiments here would also fit really well into that strange universe concocted by Fabrice Gobert as it has a similar sense of unreality and relentlessness. I am desperate to see the film because Murcof’s work here is so intriguing, but also so unrelenting.You kind of have to take a deep breath before immersing yourself in this soundtrack, but it is definitely worth it..FREQ MAG
On pourrait croire que Glacial Movements ont décidé de ressortir cet enregistrement de Murcof en CD juste parce que les ambiances qu’il développe ici collent tellement bien avec le nom du label. Composition originale destinée à accompagner un film de l’artiste plasticien Patrick Bernatchez, ce Lost in Time évoque indéniablement des images de menace hivernale qui collent tout à fait avec les photos reproduites dans le beau livret qui accompagne cette édition d’un projet paru initialement en double vinyle en 2014. Nous n’avons pu voir cette œuvre mais c’est peut-être là où l’écoute se fait particulièrement intéressante tant il sera bien de pouvoir comparer les images dans notre tête avec celles du film. Divisé en onze chapitres agrémentés d’une introduction, d’un épilogue et d’un morceau bonus, le disque s’écoute véritablement comme une seule plage, une seule pièce sonore. Si les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal apparaissent sur un titre pour une interprétation des Variations Goldberg de Jean-Sébastien Bach. Sur le reste du disque, ils ne feront que des apparitions spectrales et fort bienvenues. En effet, l’ensemble se situe plus dans le versant le plus drone et sombre du travail du Mexicain Murcof. On y retrouve certaines de ses influences : la puissance symphonique, les abstractions minimalistes, les passages ethniques, les synthétiseurs planants dignes du Tangerine Dream de la période Zeit, et même un côté soundtrack horrifique. Inutile de préciser qu’il faut mettre le volume au maximum pour vraiment vivre l’expérience. On a l’impression de sentir le froid, la neige. Les notions d’espace et de temps deviennent floues. Un piano classique se perd dans de lointains échos. Une flûte surnage des monolithes de glace. Les sons s’étirent pour accentuer le mystère. Parfois terrifiantes et massives, parfois élégiaques et plus apaisées, les deux facettes du disque (et sûrement du film) finissent par s’entremêler, créant une dramaturgie passionnante, même si les drones lugubres et vengeurs ont tendance à dominer. Comme dans un demi rêve embué, nous nous frayons un chemin mental dans la brume et dans un monde crépusculaire et gris. Les boucles semblent elles mêmes n’être créées que par notre esprit en état hypnagogique. Et l’inquiétude demeure jusqu’au bout du parcours, traversée par de purs moments de beauté. Murcof maîtrise cette ligne fine entre le songe et le cauchemar et nous propose ici un travail sonore de haute tenue qui, malgré une certaine impénétrabilité, ne peut que fasciner..OBSKURE MAG
Un’ulteriore pietra preziosa va ad arricchire il catalogo della Glacial Movements di Alessandro Tedeschi. L’etichetta romana, in poco più di dieci anni, ha ospitato i lavori di Bvdub, Aidan Baker, Francisco Lopez, Loscil, Justin Broadrick, Machinefabriek, Mike Harris, Pjusk, Oophoi, Retina.it, Bernocchi, Netherworld, imponendosi come una delle label più interessanti del panorama ambient. L’album in questione è “Lost in Time”, realizzato da Murcof come colonna sonora dell’omonimo film sperimentale del regista canadese Patrick Bernatchez e pubblicato per la prima volta in formato CD e digitale dall’etichetta romana. Negli ultimi quindici anni, il musicista messicano, mescolando minimalismo elettronico e musica contemporanea, ha costruito mondi lontani ed odissee (“Martes”, 2002 ed “Utopia”, 2004), ha lavorato emotivamente intorno al tema della memoria (“Remembranza”, 2005), ha esplorato luoghi oscuri e distanti della nostra esistenza (“Cosmos”, 2007), cimentandosi infine nell’incontro tra suono e immagine (“La Sangre Iluminada”, 2009 e “Lost in Time”, 2014). La collaborazione tra Murcof e Patrick Bernatchez è un condensato di affinità particolarmente suggestive. Da un lato il musicista messicano ha sempre esplorato i luoghi d’incontro dello spazio cosmico con il sacro, dall’altra l’artista canadese ha più volte esplorato i luoghi fisici e le forme del tempo. Il film sperimentale (nella foto) di Bernatchez racconta film murcof LIT_still+final+no2_chap5_due episodi: nel primo un cavaliere attraversa un territorio desolato e freddo in un ipotetico futuro apocalittico, nel secondo un gruppo di persone si accinge a fare un esperimento su un cavallo ibernato. “Lost in Time” è un’indagine sul tempo e sullo spazio siderale, caratterizzato da movimenti lenti, in cui la relazione tra causa ed effetto sembra non valere. Sono spazi senza confine, in cui le cose non finiscono ed in cui la successione causale segue andamenti ciclici. I due episodi non hanno un ordine prestabilito e questo consente di accettare l’idea (poetica) di un ciclo senza fine in cui due corpi perduti nel tempo e nello spazio raccontano una vicenda di vita e di morte. Temi che Murcof ha costantemente esplorato. Se il sacro sembra essere completamente assente nella visione di Bernatchez, quello stesso senso del sacro viene invece forzatamente reintrodotto da Murcof (nella foto sotto) nella potenza delle tormente droniche dello splendido Chapitre II. La mugrandiosità della rappresentazione sonora rende epiche le immagini degli scenari desolati e tormentati del film di Bernatchez, in una luce abbagliante che sembra disgregare la materia. La tensione tra l’elemento materiale e quello sacro si ritrova anche nelle Variazioni Goldberg di Bach eseguite da Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal. La splendida Chapitre VI recupera invece passaggi più melodici e meditativi. L’indagine sul tempo e sullo spazio diviene per Murcof il modo privilegiato con cui comprendere la vita ed il mondo che ci circonda. Non è un caso allora se Chapitre N, scritta espressamente per Glacial Movements come ultimo capitolo del film, descriva definitivamente un mondo inospitale e freddo, che afferma la condizione desolata e cupa dell’esistenza. “Lost in Time” va ascoltato guardando il film di Bernatchez, per vivere una combinazione di potenza sonora e visiva davvero suggestiva.Voto: 8/10..DISTORSIONI
One of the most known names in electronic music, at list from his "Remembranza" release, returns with the soundtrack of the movie by Patrick Bernatchez of the same name (properly this is the CD edition of the vinyl release in 2014 by Casino Luxembourg). The movie is described in the liner notes as based on two parallel narratives intertwine and, so, the Murcof's music revolves around two distinct elements: traditional, and quiet, instruments and electronic, and loud, ones. The first track, "Intro", shows an idea of ambient music far more complex than many of his colleagues: while it starts as a canonical ambient track based on a drone, it evolves by accumulation until even a melodic line could be heard in the development of the sound layers. When it seems that the release could continue along this framework, "Chapitre I" is based on church's chant (it's the Goldberg Variations sung by Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal, but Bach music is religious) which continues in "Chapitre II" until the reverb applied to this chant announces the the return of a drone introducing the return of masses of drone, some of which are even noisy. Then, "Chapitre III" begins a series of tracks, based on dynamics, which are at the threshold of audibility and "Chapitre IV" is constructed as a series of sonic events isolated by seconds of silence. Underlining the narrative framework of this release, "Chapitre V" and "Chapitre VI" feature a short return of the chant of "Chapitre I" as one of the layers emerging from the resulting drone. "Chapitre VII" is a really quiet, and barely audible, drone acting as an interlude to the second part of the release. "Chapitre VIII" starts as a loud track based on sharp tones and ends with a quiet track. "Chapitre IX" is characterized by a melancholic line of piano. "Chapitre X" is a droning crescendo which continues in "Chapitre XI". "Epilogue" closes this release with an apparently static drone decorated with the slight return of the piano of "Chapitre IX". A track not included in the original soundtrack, "Chapitre N", closes this release with an evolving synth drone. Impressively multifaceted, it's a release which confirms the status of its author as one most interesting ambient composer around. Chapeau! Highly recommended.CHAIN DLK
It took me some time to find out this was actually a re-release. I don’t usually cover re-releases but this one is an exception, since the original 2014 release on Casino Luxembourg was vinyl-only and destined to virtually disappear from the radar into cult territories. (Fun fact: the original release still seems to be for sale from Casino Luxembourg).Lost In Time is Murcof‘s soundtrack for a video by Patrick Bernatchez, which in turn was a sound project that was part of explorations around Bach’s “Goldberg Variations”. The choral aria of the Goldberg Variations, as performed by Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal is merged by the – rather ominous – Murcof soundscapes.The result is quite different from most earlier Murcof releases. Much, much darker and more suspenseful than you would have expected based on his earlier work. The choir arrangements sound otherworldly, alienated – I wouldn’t have guessed that they are based on a Bach aria, because it sounds more contemporary in this context. The combination with the (mostly electronic) soundscapes is downright chilling. Which is why Glacial Movements is the designated label for this fascinating (re-)release! So praise to the label for re-releasing this album and making it available again on CD and digital download!This particular edition features a bonus track available with the download, Chapitre N, which was especially composed for this Glacial Movements release.AMBIENT BLOG
Newtype Rhythms returns after a reset – a lengthy hiatus that rewired the circuits and set things back up within the lines of communication this time with a special guest mix by the ever-impressive Murcof. The Spain-via-Mexico artist has been releasing music for over 15 years now, crafting an emotive, rich sound that cuts (and pastes) between the sounds of ambient, electronica and neo-classical with subtlety and grace. Between his landmark releases for the likes of InFiné and the Leaf Label, Murcof ventures forward with another impressive album, a soundtrack for the film ‘Lost in Time‘, available now on the Italian imprint of Glacial Movements. With the album out now and being savoured by fans and first-time listeners alike, Murcof delivers an intensely eclectic guest mix for our sister mix series Newtype Rhythms, veering between genres and mood just as gracefully as he does with his own music. His mix starts at around 50 minutes in, with resident Sheepshead setting the mood to start with. On Saturday 10 November Inverted Audio and Newtype Rhythms team up in Berlin for a two-room takeover at Chalet featuring Szare, xxxy, Jacques Bon, Troy Gunner, Antepop, Elise and Newtype resident Sheepshead. Tickets available from Resident Advisor, full info on Facebook.INVERTED AUDIO
ELECTRONIC SOUND #47
Il s’agit ici de la réédition CD d’une bande-son, un travail très ambitieux initialement publié en 2014 sous forme de double disque vinyle. Murcof alias Fernando Corona, est connu depuis ses premiers albums sur le label Leaf, au commencement du siècle, pour la finesse de ses compositions électroniques. Ceux qui y entendent les échos d’une musique plus ancienne, plus installée également, du baroque au modern classical, ne sont pas dans l’erreur. Le projet de Murcof est de retrouver par un mode d’expression contemporain, l’outil numérique et plus largement électronique, les mêmes écailles de blanc qui revêtent les compositions les plus sobres de musiciens distants dans le temps mais pas dans l’esprit. Son travail récent avec la pianiste Vanessa Wagner propose une nouvelle approche de l’interprétation de pièces empruntées à un répertoire minimaliste de cette ampleur (M. Richter, M. Nyman, R. Sakamoto, A. Pärt, G. Ligeti, E. Satie, Aphex Twin…). Les Variations Goldberg, pour l’exemple qui nous intéresse ici, le fascinent et, de son propre aveu, une partie de son œuvre récente tourne autour. Je ne peux m’empêcher alors de me souvenir du palindrome souvent attribué à Virgile, in girum imus nocte et consumimur igni, peut-être tout simplement médiéval – Nous tournons dans la nuit et nous sommes consumés par le feu. Debord en avait fait le titre de son film de 1978, habillé par la musique de Couperin, ce qui nous ramène à la musique baroque. Murcof, comme le papillon à la flamme, tourne autour des Variations Goldberg de J. S. Bach, et l’artiste et cinéaste québécois Patrick Bernatchez nourrit pour elles une égale fascination. L’œuvre de Bernatchez, Lost In Time est, après une exposition du même nom, un film où le blanc et le noir, filmés sur pellicule couleur, s’abîment dans un paysage arctique parcouru par un cavalier et son cheval, perdus sans doute, également caparaçonnés. Le temps semble s’y figer, une montre échouée dans la neige, de même qu’une musique qui, à l’image de tant d’autres que nous décrivons ici, s’est donné pour tâche de sculpter des blocs d’éternité. Le drone, blanc comme la pochette, comme la poche d’art tremblant de cette œuvre résonante, fuse, percé après quelques minutes par l’Aria des Variations Goldberg, interprétée pour l’occasion par une maîtrise d’enfants canadiens, Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont Royal. Le motif ressurgira plus loin, présentant le projet de Murcof dans une de ses plus belles réalisations, la mise au jour de la beauté des motifs minimaux, qu’ils appartiennent au fonds instrumental ou à son analogue électronique. Les voix des petits chanteurs s’engloutissent dans un fuseau analogique, un cosmos ou la matière séparant les étoiles s’est blanchie. La mélancolie de ce ciel inversé filtre goutte à goutte dans l’épaisseur des strates harmoniques, étagées jusqu’à exhaler le souffle, la lumière et la proto-mélodie. Le fredonnement, par cet échauffement à froid, voit de nouveau son fantôme s’élever. Une musique perdue dans le temps, où Bach, Tangerine Dream et les concrétions minérales les plus numérisées s’agencent en hélice plate, aux spirales effondrées parfois, laissant seul vivant, aux portes de la mort blanche, le souffle de la neige rasée par la bise la plus ténue. De si près les dessins des cristaux vibrent, reviennent au jour, gonflent la poche pour suspendre l’inespérée, l’aurore boréale, dans un jour naissant.FEAR DROP