fervently new mood of improvisation is available on this record.
The trio of David Chiesa (bass and little percussion), Laurent Dailleau
(theremin and computer) and Isabelle Duthoit (clarinet and voice)
have developed a startlingly idiosyncratic method of interacting
- not only among themselves, but also between each of the instruments
they play. Unguided by mimicry of tone, rhythm or volume, these
three French musicians intermesh uniquely disturbing and alluring
sounds as a continuous screen on which to project sense and emotion.
Layers of sound come and go almost unnoticeably because the whole
field of sound is so consistent in mood, though exactly what that
mood is can't be pinpointed. That unnamable but absolutely inescapable
tone is intricately etched into each of the eight tracks on Ur
lamento, seven of which were recorded in early September of
2001, while one is from a May 2000 concert in France. Long streams
of clarinet air glide, mouths open and close, the bass stretches
consolingly, percussion pops in, a computer hums and a theremin
Duthoit's vocals percolate with hisses and grumbles during Falaises,
confronting tiny woodtaps, swift bow-bounces and computer rings.
A frightening yet oblique interaction ensues, like an animal in
a cave being uncomfortably discovered by antennas. The depth of
intensity conveyed far surpasses anything that is possible when
everyone in an improvising ensemble plays their instruments as fast
and/or as loud as possible, a typical shortcoming of many American
improv groups. Mingling with the high-pitched, electro-tones and
swizzles on Etherfield are small flutter-bowings of bass,
then sonic identities begin appearing and disappearing in even waves,
trickling like tides timed to grains of sand rather than the moon.
Woodpeckerish clarinet attacks accompany scratchy strings and a
lush theremin timbre-twist. The intensity sustained throughout the
recording is not one dependent on the progress of inciting and resolving
crises, but instead results from the maintenance of an oblique and
strange yet entirely organic dynamic of emergence and correspondence.
A comfortable, relaxed intensity permeates these passionately controlled
dramas unfolding through our ears, creating a cohesive set of improvisations
where sonic ideas ricochet off and penetrate into each other in
ways that sound like pure intuition saying "yes".
Triolid's Ur Lamento elevates the status of anxious whimpering
of pig-dogs nursing litters to key building blocks in the healthy
future of Euro improv. Laurent Dailleau on theremin and computer,
Isabelle Duthoit on clarinet and voice, and David Chiesa on bass merge
electronic and acoustic timbres, and select what is useful from numerous
different schools (What-About-Sound-What- AboutSound?, idiot electronics,
deep listening, and The Technique of Me, especially). It's been tried
before and we usually end up with a ghastly, genetically modified
creature everyone wishes would die in someone else's back yard. Triolid
are co-dependent transcenders of their own internaI circuitry, and
together burn the mucus that clogs music, noise and sound. The solar-baked
plains of electro-wheeze with surfaces as intricate as cauliflower
are finally clear.
If only there were any Kirana masters left, wouldn't that be a puff
and a haIf? I mean, Terry Riley's not about to start doing favors
Still little known outside of France, the three musicians forming
Triolid deserve wider recognition among free improv circles, at
least judging from Ur Lamento, their first album as a trio.
Their music is informed by the London scene that spun from the Spontaneous
Music Ensemble and the more cerebral Austrian-German current of
quiet, highly focused improvisation, along with France's very own
take on the subject. It means that the musicians are seeking a form
of interaction based on intense listening to each other's moves
but still claim the right to use large dynamics and get excited.
The most original voice is that of Laurent Dailleau's theremin.
The instrument in itself is a rare feature in this -- or any other
-- context, but Dailleau expands its register to new lengths. He
also plays it in conjunction with a computer. Bassist David Chiesa
uses a wide range of extended techniques, focusing mostly on unusual
textures. He provides a certain level of restlessness by turning
the usually (at least in other music forms) firm bass register into
the aural equivalent of quicksand. The clarinet of Isabelle Duthoit
is a strange, evanescent creature that takes pleasure in hiding
among Dailleau's plaintive electronic cries. In two tracks she vocalizes
through the instrument, the screams scraping our insides as much
as her vocal chords. Ur Lamento is intense and mesmerizing,
but also a demanding listen.
you make demands upon pure improvisational music? The simple answer
The more correct (and lengthy) response is to ask the same question
of its listeners. What does one bring to the listening table? Does
expectation and theory only dull the experience? The best approach
(for many) is to consider the listening experience as meditation,
and to open your ears to all possibilities.
The French improv band Triolid comes to most American ears with
no expectations. This recording of clarinet, theremin/electronics,
and bass is a mostly understated affair. Even with clarinetist Isabelle
Duthoit’s screams of madness on Falaises are not
overblown. The trio remains within themselves, and the moment. This
is not so much a noisy affair as it is a reflective outing.
The combination of instruments, clarinet/theremin/bass is the feature
here. Each has the possibilities to make ‘noise’, none
do. Duthoit, a classically trained musician, David Chiesa former
rock bassist turned improv student, and Laurent Dailleau a full
time theremin musician play a patient game of extended thoughtful
lines.Their meditations are ours.
The group Triolid delivers Ur Lamento, another fine electroacoustic
recording from Potlatch. The young French players are Laurent Dailleau
(theremin computer) Isabelle Duthoit (clarinet and very scary vocals)
and David Chiesa (bass). Culled from live and studio sessions, this
intense group explores texture and timbre in a highly focused fashion.
The music's abstraction allows the insstruments to merge in provocative
ways - on some of the tracks, the three get to the point where they
almost achieve sympathetic resonation. The high keening of Dailleau,
the buzzing strings of Chiesa, and the warm clarinet and vocal tones
of Duthoit oscillate provocatively to produce music of bewitching
l Signal To Noise
l March 2003