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l’écoute ce disque, me revient une conversation avec
le saxophoniste Michel Doneda, il y a une bonne dizaine d’année,
en marge du festival Jazz à Luz, où il venait de jouer
un duo magnifique avec le chanteur Beñat Achiary. Il y était
question de l’influence des musiques électroniques
sur le jeu du saxophoniste et de son approche globale du son. Or,
même si il n’y a ici aucune trace d’électronique,
je suis frappé par la fusion sonore opérée
par Christine Sehnaoui Abdelnour et Pascal Battus. Le site du label
Potlatch nous donne plus d’information sur ces surfaces rotatives
utilisées par Pascal Battus. Si cette lutherie est pour le
moins concrète, on est d’abord frappé par la
parenté sonore avec les dispositifs électroniques
couramment utilisés aujourd’hui. Néanmoins après
une écoute attentive, la profonde originalité de ce
dispositif aux possibilités probablement infinies se révèle.
Les sons créés par Pascal Battus s’échappent
de l’artifice et viennent rencontrer la réalité
même du saxophone. Quant à Christine Sehnaoui Abdelnour,
son jeu crée des textures, des clapotements liquides, et
épouse admirablement ce dispositif électro-acoustique.
J’en viens parfois à me demander qui des deux musiciens
produit tel ou tel son. La fusion est totale et l’objet admirablement
original.
Pour finir, voici un extrait
d’une improvisation des deux musiciens au festival Angelica
2010.
Free's
Silence Blog
l
Septembre 2010
Munis
d’outils aussi différents qu’ils se révèlent
complémentaires, deux investigateurs du son à l’oreille
aiguisée s’improvisent paléontologues d’un
jour. En remuant scrupuleusement ciel et terre pour mettre à
jour un univers de détails, ils dévoilent autant l’éclat
de leurs découvertes que la minutie de leur approche.
On s’arrête d’abord sur la pochette de ce disque
: une étrange tapisserie champêtre où des cervidés
diaphanes errent tranquillement à travers un sous-bois. On
s’interroge ensuite sur son titre qui, désignant des
empreintes fossilisées, conserve tout son mystère
même si l’on y décèlerait volontiers la
trace d’un manifeste musical. Un qui consisterait à
sculpter en creux, à circonscrire plutôt que décrire,
à appréhender une complexité corporelle en
en livrant moins qu’une esquisse. On se réjouit enfin
de voir collaborer de manière inédite deux musiciens
dont on souhaite encore voir les discographies respectives s’étoffer.
Dans la lignée de ses dispositifs non homologués (on
se souvient de son usage très personnel du pick-up : «
le microphone de la guitare enfin débarrassé d’elle
»), Pascal Battus frotte à présent feuilles
de papier, plaques de métal, bouts de bois, gobelets en plastic,
blocs de polystyrène et autres cymbales contre des petits
plateaux tournants entraînés par des moteurs électriques.
Les sons produits par ces « surfaces rotatives » sont
confrontés à ceux non moins radicaux propulsés
par le saxophone alto de Christine Sehnaoui Abdelnour.
Aussi éloignés soient-ils dans leur mécanique,
les deux instruments/dispositifs parviennent à explorer des
palettes étonnamment voisines et on se trouve souvent confondu
lorsqu’il s’agit de distinguer la provenance de telle
stridulation ou de tel vrombissement dans ces improvisations grouillantes
d’activité. Cet écosystème sonore, dont
l’existence semble attestée par la métaphore
animalière filée le long de ces cinq titres, renferme
manifestement un point d’eau qui attire anophèles et
pachydermes. Des herbes hautes et des rochers moussus font également
partie du paysage ; le vent, surtout, change de directions à
chaque instant : bourrasques imprévisibles ou puissants tourbillonnements.
La saxophoniste concentre son souffle avec une détermination
absolue sur des matières qui sont pulvérisées
en éclats nets, déployant une intensité qui
rappelle celle du jeu de Stéphane Rives (y aurait-il un truc
propre aux improvisateurs de l’axe Beyrouth-Paris ?). Produisant
des textures non moins astringentes, les machines tournantes de
son acolyte évoquent aussi bien des membranes de coléoptères
qu’une scie circulaire, poussant un peu plus loin la polyphonie.
La convergence harmonique atteint parfois l’unisson dans des
passages particulièrement tendus, qui miment sans le savoir
le
comportement de certains moustiques capables de synchroniser
la fréquence de leurs battements d’ailes lors de certains
rituels d’approche. A l’évidence, lorsque insectes
ou musiciens sont (littéralement) sur la même longueur
d’onde, ça s’entend et le plaisir n’en
est que davantage partagé.
Jean-Claude Gevrey l
Scala
Tympani
l
Juillet 2010
Un
disque peut parfois révéler un monde : celui de Christine
Sehnaoui et Pascal Battus méritait qu’on l’entende.
Aidé d’un manuel d’ichnologie (l’art de
tirer des conclusions scientifiques des traces laissées par
tout être vivant derrière lui), qui décidera
de s’y pencher trouvera en Ichnites bien plus que
de simples empreintes : des preuves de l’existence d’un
microcosme en développement. Ce microcosme à la structure
improvisée mais cohérente est l’œuvre d’une
saxophoniste réfléchie et d’un guitariste ayant
développé ses techniques étendues au point
de jouer ici de « surfaces rotatives » qu’il a
confectionnées avec d’anciens éléments
de walkmans – l’ancêtre du baladeur MP3 étant
une autre ichnite de taille. Ce microcosme vous attire en usant
des charmes des premiers sons qu’il laisse échapper
et vous enferme ensuite dans des constructions au sein desquelles
s’engouffrent le vent et l’eau, et où le bruit
commandé par le plus petit geste est répercuté,
toujours à volume amplifié. Mais le voyage n’est
pas seulement agressif, il guide parfois l’invité jusqu’à
des plages circonspectes, qu’elles soient jardin zen ou salle
d’attente, avant de le mener sur une esplanade où Christine
Sehnaoui et Pascal Battus sonneront l’heure d’un carnaval
de sifflements et de tremblements expressifs. Aussi abstraites soient-elles,
les découvertes faites par l’auditeur dans ce paysage
parsemé d’empreintes sont irrévocables : les
mondes parallèles existent et il est même possible
de les explorer en musique.
Guillaume Belhomme l
Les
Inrockuptibles
l
Juin 2010
Jacques
Attali dans Bruits avançait l'idée de petites
structures domestiques de production-diffusion se substituant aux
mastodontes de la musique. L'histoire a confirmé cette hypothèse.
Pensons à l’avant-gardiste Glenn Gould délaissant
les concerts pour monter Bach en studio, bout par bout, avec le
meilleur de chaque prise.
De fait, les pertes entre la matrice et la copie, entre l'objet
et l'œuvre, le pop et l' art se sont drastiquement réduites.
Un bon dispositif d’audition peut supplanter le concert (interprétation
forcée, absence de liberté de l’auditeur concernant
le choix du moment et de la durée), devenir un moment privilégié,
une approche “active” des œuvres concentrées
ou mixées avec les sons ambiants, équalisés,
amplifiés, spatialisés sur mesure.
Ichnites avec ses micros et ses amplificateurs ne dira
pas le contraire! Pascal Battus officie aux moteurs de walkman pour
entraîner des objets, les fouetter, passant du rythme à
la texture avec grâce; Christine Sehnaoui Abdelnour à
l'alto parkérien grossit les petites souillures mécaniques,
le tourbillon du souffle et les clapotements mouillés de
l’embouchure; elle gifle l’anche, tressaille des doigts,
mâche l’ébonite (entre autres). Ses sifflements
cisaillent délicieusement le tympan, poussant la transduction
cochléenne aux extrêmes de la lymphe apicale.
Cliquetis mécaniques, sons grinçants, périodiques,
ronflettes, roulis aquatiques, cuivrés, drones tressés
aux grains du tuyau poumoné, l’alto se dévoilant
fugitivement en surplomb d’une électronique agitée.
Le duo produit une flore luxuriante de timbres servie par un “timing”,
une écoute mutuelle sans faille qui place Ichnites au meilleur
de l’improvisation “non-idiomatique”.
Arnold Schönberg a dit que la hauteur est "le timbre mesuré
dans une seule direction…"; l'amplitude en est une autre,
"la sensation variant au fil du logarithme…" d’un
tableau sonore infini.
Bravo à Potlatch qui continue envers et contre tout, loin
de l’industrie, un parcours sans faute, unique dans les labels
français de musique contemporaine superground !
PS Superground est un qualitatif forgé par l’artiste
André du Colombier à partir du mot taupinesque, usé
et surtout récupéré à toutes les sauces,
d’underground.
Boris Wlassof l
Revue
& Corrigée
l
Juin 2010
Sous
un titre judicieux, ce recueil « d’empreintes »
posées en mai 2009 développe, en cinq chapitres (eux
en revanche alourdis d’intitulés descriptifs), tout
un art de la gravure en taille-douce : pointe sèche, eau-forte,
Pascal Battus (surfaces rotatives) et Christine Sehnaoui Abdelnour
(saxophone alto) dressent de petits manèges éoliens,
bruts – on pense à celui de Petit Pierre, à
la Fabuloserie – et très savamment sophistiqués.
Si le premier, sur ses plateaux (pas des platines ! plutôt
les tours de quelque potier sonique), façonne matériaux
hétéroclites et espaces auditifs, la seconde emporte
(au-delà de la rhétorique salivaire désormais
établie) son alto concret, fluide, flûté dans
des contrées que ni Denley ni Bosetti n’ont épuisées.
Tout « étendus » qu’ils soient, les moyens
convoqués sont mis en jeu dans une pratique serrée,
douce ou corrosive, toujours intense et élégante,
souvent poétique. Sans doute est-ce ce qui fait de ce disque
un précieux jardin portatif, que l’on garde près
de soi.
Guillaume Tarche l
Le
Son du Grisli
l
Mars 2010
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Probing
the furthest reaches of saxophone texture and timbre has been the
preoccupation of altoist Christine Sehnaoui Abdelnour’s improvising
during the past few years. Recorded within a month of one another,
Teeming and Ichnites capture two significant performances
by the Paris-based reedist.
Together they’re notable sonically and sociologically.
Sonically the atonal fragmentation of breath, reed and metal in
which she specializes is presented in different duo contexts. All-acoustic,
Teeming teams Abdelnour with Berlin-based prepared piano
explorer Magda Mayas. On the other CD, her partner is Paris’
Pascal Battus who uses motorized components from old walkmans as
exciters, vibrators and resonators on cymbals and objects made of,
among other substances, plastic, paper and cardboard. Sociologically,
Abdelnour who is of Lebanese background, and who in the past has
mainly played and recorded with improvisers on the Beirut-Paris
axis, here establishes her own style with new partners, who while
equally non-traditional in their playing, share similar creative
DNA with her. Although elements of blended translucent sound layers
mask rigid tone identification on both CDs, the pianist’s
and the saxophonist’s musical persona are clearly defined
on their disc. Chiaroscuro textural extensions and pointillist strategies
are so prominent on Ichnites however that categorically
ascribing certain resonating tones to one or the other is almost
impossible and nearly pointless.
Battus in the past has worked with players such as guitarist Camel
Zekri and bass trombonist Thierry Madiot. Here his strategies vacillate
between those in which he pushes his motors to create a vacuum cleaner
drone that dominates the entire aural air space to the creation
of less obtrusive ragged splinters and ratchets which either pulse
in isolation or complement the saxophonist’s trills in double
counterpoint.
For her part Abdelnour unleashes a trick bag full of extended techniques
which range from bird-whistled squeaks and high-pitched yelps to
segmented breaths, split tones and vibrating tongue stops. These
reed gymnastics stretch the narrative tessitura next to the rotating,
band-saw like turns, unyielding drones and harsh, oscillated hums
from Battus’ contraptions. During the CD’s five tracks,
individual agitated pitches arte converted into definitive sound
assemblies, confirming the impossibility of ascertaining where one
person’s contribution ends and the other’s begins. Alongside
this are enough pressurized, fortissimo roars which appear and vanish
so frequently that they further muddy identification.
Especially notable are the reflective abrasions created by rattling
objects or pressing them against equally unyielding substances,
the sounds of which characterize reliefs de repas. Soon
mercurial pitches swell to almost pipe-organ-like reverberations
without revealing whether the centrifugal forces propelling them
are the result of the high-pitched friction from Battus’ implements
or the multiphonic air rammed into the dual improvisation from Abdelnour.
Although the two also evolve in perfect symmetry on fouilles
et rongement, the separation is clearer. The clattering and
chirping smacks from rotated surfaces of polystyrene and cardboard
can definitely be attributed to Battus. Still, the saxophonist’s
windstorm of animal yowls and thin, sharp trills vibrate enough
altissimo flattement to almost mirror the other’s ragged efforts...
... New
aural essays on the further liberation of saxophone timbres, these
CDs outline the contours of Abdelnour’s evolving style. They
also demonstrate how she attains it through careful cooperation
with two stylistically different, but sympathetic, fellow sound
explorers.
Ken Waxman l
JazzWord
l
August 2010
Pascal
Battus started out as a table guitarist (guitare environée
– "surrounded guitar" – is what he called
it at the time), but in recent years has, like many other practitioners
of the instrument, probably fed up with carrying out a whole suitcase
full of gear, downsized his kit. Here he plays "rotating surfaces"
("small motorised components from inside old Walkmans, used
as exciters on different objects reacting as vibrators and resonators:
sheets of paper, cardboard, plastic, wood, metal, polystyrene pieces
and stems connected to cymbals") in the company of alto saxophonist
Christine Sehnaoui Abdelnour in a set of five remarkably colourful,
even rowdy, improvisations splendidly recorded by the Instants Chavirés
sound engineer Etienne Foyer.
The variety of sounds Battus manages to conjure forth from his trashed
Walkmans is most impressive: from wild stuck pig feedback shrieks
to butterfly flutters, from teeth-grinding polystyrene squeals to
forlorn whalesong, it's like a heavenly jam session, Burkhard Beins,
Ferran Fages, Hong Chulki and Jason Lescalleet rolled into one.
There's plenty here for Sehnaoui to get her teeth into (literally,
it sounds like): the Lebanese-born saxophonist has rapidly established
herself as one of the most exciting voices in contemporary improv,
and Ichnites is another fine addition to her expanding discography.
An ichnite, by the way, is a fossilised footprint, which might explain
the presence of those animals on the album cover.. a couple of stags,
a doe, a horse, a squirrel and (odd man out) what looks like a lonely
spermatozoid trying to swim under a wooden chair in the middle of
a forest. Intrigued? Wait until you hear the music. Oh yes, if you're
allergic to high frequency meltdown, you may want to step out for
a quick drink halfway through Fouilles & Rongement –
yeouch!
Dan Warburton l
Paris
Transatlantic l
July 2010
On
Ichnites, Pascal Battus plays rotating surfaces; these
consist of small motorised components from inside old Walkmans or
cassette players, which are used as exciters on different objects
reacting as vibrators and resonators : sheets of paper, cardboards,
plastic, wooden, metal, polystyrene pieces, and stems connected
to cymbals. The results are small resonant sounds that hover somewhere
between percussion and drone.
Alongside Battus, Christine Sehnaoui Abdelnour plays alto sax with
such restraint, care and attention to detail that its sounds are
hardly there at times. Adopting a range of blowing techniques, she
extracts very different tones from the sax but never displays any
great exuberance. This is completely fitting, as Battus produces
sounds of such delicacy that they would be very easy to drown out.
As with many successful improvising duos, Battus and Abdelnour mesh
together so well that it can be hard to tell where the boundary
between them lies.
The YouTube
clip gives an accurate feel for the album
as it was recorded live three days after the album itself was recorded.
Most of all, that clip serves to emphasise that this duo provides
a visual spectacle that is a natural accompaniment to the music,
not least because it helps clarify the sources of the sounds.
This combination of sound and spectacle is reminiscent of the show
put on by trombonist Mathias Forge and Olivier Toulemonde on acoustic
objects; maybe it's a Gallic thing. However, as with Forge and Toulemonde,
the visuals are a bonus, and this recording stands up well in its
own right without them.
John Eyles l
All
About Jazz l
July 2010
The
combination of the mechanical and the manual overlay this improvisational
duo from Lebanese-born alto saxophonist Christine Shenaoui Abdelnour
and Pascal Battus. Battus plays, manipulates, or perhaps sets in
motion rotating surfaces, explained in the liner notes as, "small,
motorized components from inside old Walkmans, used as exciters
on different objects reacting as vibrators and resonators: sheets
of paper, cardboards, plastic, wooden, metal, polystyrene pieces,
and stems connected to cymbals."
Certainly, the swing isn't the thing here. The sounds are all about
texture and the weave of the electric with the breath. Shenaoui
Abdelnour's designs are fixed upon extended saxophone technique;
flutter, breath and pitch are her tools. The pair achieve an improvising
harmony between the various frequency and tones Battus generates
with his small motors that work upon varying flotsam.
The music—the sound—bristles and pops with electricity.
The pair achieve a sort of visual and tactile response from their
sound generation. Their hum and pop roots out a visceral answer,
that raises the awareness in sort of 3-dimensional experience.
Mark Corroto l
All
About Jazz l
May 2010
The
name that this Parisian duo have given to their first album implies
a perspective on recording improvised music that is either jaundiced
or extremely optimistic. Ichnites are fossilized footprints, generally
left by some dinosaur whose steps in the mud were subsequently covered
by silt in a flash flood. Is this sonic artefact something that
will survive for millions of years, or merely a dead cast of a finished
activity?
Certainly their music loses something when divorced from its visual
aspect. Battus uses his 'rotating surfaces' (motorised components
from old Walkmans, used to resonate sheets of paper, cardboards,
metal, polystyrene pieces, etc) to get sounds that bear no obvious
relationship to the methods used - a quick YouTube search yields
a video in which he instigates a delicious cognitive dissonance
by making half of an impaled Styrofoam fast food container sound
like an overdriven analogue synthesizer. Abdelnour sometimes indulges
in visual theatre, as when she mutes her alto saxophone with a long
cardboard tube in its bell. More often she sits stock still, blowing
coarse rattles and highly electronic-sounding fizzes that seem as
static as their maker, yet always end up exactly where they need
to be.
But I’m betting Ichnites was named out of optimism.
If all this record had to offer was another sure-stepping enactment
of the ever evolving free Improv dance, l'd say fair enough and
throw it on the heap with all the other worthy CDs that get a few
hearings and a place on the shelf. What makes this one stand out
is the duo's willingness to let memorably decisive gestures override
good taste. They rend their skilfuf juggling of bubble and grit
with iriterjections so strange, vulgar, or downright brutal that
they continually snap the listener out of appreciative reverie.
Bill Meyer l
The
Wire
l
May 2010
Battus
plays small rotating surfaces, as from the inside of an old Walkman,
using them to excite various materials; he does this pretty much
non-stop. Sehnaoui Abdelnour plays alto and you might say is generally
in a John Butcher-ish area. I find the pieces too busy and reactive
in nature, the pair creating many an interesting texture but, once
in the "busy" vein, not being obsessive enough about it
to really absorb me, though this problem improves as the discs progresses.
There are a few intense moments on the third track, estocade
& coulees and next piece also gets into some juicy, deep-buzzing
territory but even there, not enough purpose for my money. The final
track, relatively brief at under five minutes, hints at what the
pair is capable of. Here a real unity is achieved, an unforced singularity
of purpose.
Brian Olewnick l
Just
outside
l
April 2010
I’m
on record as saying, probably more than once that Potlatch is, in
my opinion the most consistently strong label around today. These
days Jacques Oger probably only manages a couple of discs a year
(I know the feeling) but they are just about always really strong,
even when the musicians involved are not that well known to me,
last years Narthex release being a good example. I know the music
of Battus and Sehnaoui Abdelnour quite well though, and should declare
an interest here in that I have recently agreed to release a CD
involving Pascal. Ichnites is, for all essential purposes
a straight up improv record, and a pretty good one at that. Battus
plays “rotating surfaces” a form of instrumentation
he goes on in the liner notes to explain involves small motorised
components rescued from the insides of old Walkmen used to excite
assorted surfaces. Sehnaoui Abdelnour makes life much easier by
just playing alto sax. However it is inevitable and doubtlessly
predictable for me to say that despite their perceived differences
it is in places hard to tell the two sets of instrumentation apart.
There are five tracks here, the first four all weighing in at roughly
ten minutes in length, the last, titled voies et allures
(ways and paces?) lasting half of that.
I say that this is a straight up improv record because from start
to finish it documents an alive, often quite fiery musical conversation
between these two musicians that places them as tussling, wrestling
equals wrapping their sounds around each other to form the meaty,
gristly mixture we have here. For the most part Sehnaoui Abdelnour
plays her sax in the normal manner, blowing over the reeds, often
with a low noteless warble, but nevertheless without an extreme
amount of extended technique. She does bring her tones and whispers
to match the general area of Battus’ agitated surfaces quickly
and easily, though it should also be noted that in places Battus
does the same, finding pitches to match the sax, thus revealing
a remarkable amount of understanding of what must be a reasonably
erratic way of creating sounds. There aren’t many silences,
but then this isn’t full-on gabbification either. There is
a great sensitivity to the playing that reveals two good sets of
ears. The way these two musicians listen to one another is very
impressive here. Generally a sound will be made by one or the other,
after which there will be a slight pause and then the response comes,
more often than not perfectly chosen and placed. The sounds here
are all very nice, texturally interesting enough, but in truth the
real joy in the music comes from following the conversation. In
many ways it wouldn’t matter if this was a duo for prepared
triangle and amplified tambourine, what works is the connection
and occasional willful disconnection between the musicians, the
dialogue, the discourse.
So what makes this release stand out from all the other great improvised
music CDs? Well maybe nothing really, there is nothing I can say
about this music other than underlining the great pleasure I get
from following its narrative, and sharing in some small way in the
conversation between the musicians. Interesting, engaging music
is not always enjoyable music, sometimes the good recordings are
also a challenge to our sense of what is pleasant to listen to,
but here this is not the case. Ichnites keeps Potlatch’s
record going, being a thoroughly engaging record that lasts forty
minutes or so but feels like nearer fifteen, such is the ease in
which I lose myself in it. Despite the use of 50% unusual instrumentation
there are no rules being rewritten here, but that isn’t always
necessary. Two musicians get together and find ways to work together.
If we can’t be there at the time then a recording of the event
is the next best thing. When the end result portrays that collaboration
as well as Ichnites does we are onto a winner. Great cover too.
Richard Pinnell l
The
Watchful Ear
l
April 2010
On
Ichnites, we hear improvised sax noises and non-musical
grinderments emanating from motorised rotating surfaces –
always a winning combination in anyone’s book. Lebanese-born
Christine Sehnaoui Abdelnour sucks unearthly, gritty whimperings
from her alto sax, playing with such weightless grace that you can
believe her hands never once made contact with brass. Pascal Battus
plucks out motors from old portable cassette players, then rubs
them whirlingly against common objects made of paper, wood or plastic,
creating tones that make you think all the inanimate objects in
the world are spending their time whining and complaining, if only
we could hear them. Now we can.
Ed Pinsent l
The
Sound Projector
l
March 2010
Lebanese
born, but now living in France is alto-saxophone player Christine
Shenaoui Abdelnour, who has a background in improvisation, which
she plays in all sorts of ways, some of which may be like intended
by Aldophe. She works here with Pascal Battus, who usually works
with table-top guitars, but here plays 'rotating surfaces': "small
motorised components from inside old walkmans, used as exciters
on different objects reacting as vibrators and resonators: sheets
of paper, cardboards, plastic, wooden, metal or polystyrene pieces,
and stems connected to cymbals".
They played together on may 26th 2009 and the results can be found
on Ichnites. This is some hardcore improvised music, and
not necessarily from a softer edge. Things buzz at times at an immense
volume, for instance in Fouilles & Rongement. It's
followed by a more quieter excursion, Estocade &
Coulées. These two play some mighty intense music, which
requires one full attention. It's not easy music, but one that makes
your hair rise up the wrong way. An utter fine work of improvisation.
Very intense, very beautiful.
Frans de Waard l
Vital
Weekly
l
March 2010
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