Sul
- to chris marker
the concept most at work here is that of "the zone", according to the sleevenotes "a
space outside any dimensions of time, anchored therefore in a pure and eternal
present from which any recollection tends to be gradually eradictaded." Like
his friend and mentor Andrei Tarkovski and his literary counterpart JG Ballard,
Marker sets out to explore this space
in and through his work. Each of the works on Sul explore this space as well.
The first track, Rail, by Atau Tanaka, is 12 minutes of modulated throb, vaguely
remniscent of Pole both in its form and ability to suggest a spatial sense.
Eric la Casa follows with a soundspace that sounds like the sighting nervous
system of an airliner in flight. Marc Behrens minimal rumble suggests the purling
and interminable space of cell groth. Vitriol's contribution, the eerie Suipsim,
could be lifted from the sound design of Tarkovski's film Stalker, while Pimmon's
Shadow, shade, a collection of electro-mechanical whines, was possibly sourced
from the control rooms of various nuclear powerplants. ID's A!,+{88} is the
disc's most extreme offering, a nerve-jangling barrage of unmediated eletroacoustic
noise that makes no prisoners, and we fade out on the austerely beautiful Soleil
by Oren Ambarchi, Sirr's answer to Radiohead's Exit Music (for a film).
The Wire Magazine, october 2002
Excellent! The best tribute album to Chris Marker ever recorded! (Although
Phil Manzanera's Listen NowLP might come close, by default). Seven bleeding-edge
sound artistes were invited to contribute and. although some tracks are so
minimal they're on the verge of disappearing into the same solar wind that
brought them here - every recording has substance and weight, conveying effective
semicinematic atmospheres, and the whole CD is the exact
opposite of lazy, non-specific, Ambient' music. Of course Marker's cinema work
is, like aIl the best things, rather hard to come by; l've only ever seen the
'famous' one La jetée, and that was aired mainly because of its connection
to the Terry Gilliam movie Twe!ve Monkeys. But suffice it so say the Marker
man is a true 'maverick' of narrative schemas, transcending genres as easily
as he works across multimedia formats. 'Chris Marker is a sculptor of memory',
states Atau T anaka, speaking of this French-born film director, photographer
and writer whose output includes Sans So!ei!and Leve! Five. 'He can make us
reminisce of things we have never lived, to remember places we have never been'.
Some of these non-existent things and places - mostly very alien - are made
real here, on the musical excursions created with great care and attention
by the seven sound-artists hereon, using abstract noise, tonal washes, grubby
static and other methods. Atau Tanaka's 'Rail' is a monorail journey into Ballard-esque
zone of no return; a bleak quest, referencing Tarkovsy's Sta!keras much as
Marker. Eric La Casa's 'L'air au fond du rouge' depicts strange atmospheric
conditions on globe, threatening weather ahead...Marc Behrens, with 'Khabul
rubble', depicts ghostly zone...thin feet on broken ice, edging towards ruined
city. Vitriol uses sound of water and suggests strange aquatic trip across
silvery lake. with unexpected outcome. Pimmon's 'Shadow, Shade' is visit to
nightmarish hospital, observing scanning machine at work. i.d. uses interrupted
radio signais from space and much heavy static; messages never decoded. Oren
Ambarchi brings album to blissful close as astronaut slips into suspended animation
and seals self in cryogenic chamber. But then threatening signal appears on
life-support readout...ambiguous downbeat ending. fully in keeping with Marker
spirit.
A remarkable record this, one that indicates sirr is becoming a notable presence
- this should be reckoned as a diamond release in their catalogue. Not simply
a celebrity 'name-checking' exercise (such as inviting big name artistes to
cover the songs of Captain Beefheart), the sound-artists here are totally sympathetic;
each one genuinely attempting to engage with the singularity of Marker's work,
and largely succeed in paying an appropriate homage, if not expanding the scope
of his agenda across into a musical platform. A more low-key, ambiguous version
ofwhat Heldon's music is to Philip K Dick. Like Marker, each work starts in
the realms of science fiction area, but winds up asking heavy questions about
the nature of huma" existence, probing those metaphysical depths...do not miss
this release. cybernauts aIl, 'tis a real Space Odyssey for 2002-2003!
ED PINSENT 20/11/2002 The Sound Projector E 11 eventh Issue 2003
C'est à que
s' intéresse Sul, qui est une suite d'hommages au cinéaste
et vidéaste français Chris Marker dont l'œuvre est traversée
par l'idée de zone, d'espace délimité. Il faut sans
doute être familier de son oeuvre pour
comprendre l'inquiétante obscurité qui sourd invariablement de
toutes les contributions. Mais chacune, dans les espaces (libres) qui lui sont
accordées, semble dialoguer avec cette notion qui en appelle d'autres
(comme celles du temps ou de la mémoire). Atau Tanaka construit ainsi
une suite de séquences fondues, des moments sonores spatiaux qui se
perpétuent dans une abrasion angoissante. Eric La Casa photographie
sans les transformer des
environnements sonores, Vitriol ou Marc Behrens les radiographient, chacun
y cherchant les résonances intimes qui fondent l'identité d'un
espace autant que ses caractéristiques physiques. D'autres semblent
se référer directement aux oeuvres du cinéaste, aux méthodes
qu'elles engagent: Pimmon en multipliant les combinaisons et les entrelacs
digitaux, créant un espace intime de métamorphoses possibles.
Un peu comme I.D. dont la musique est néanmoins beaucoup plus tourmentée
et urbaine. Oren Ambarchi enfin, cherche dans un lumineux travail de cordes évanescentes
la présence fugitive des émotions fixées par la mémoire.
Un hommage magnifié par des musiques dont la beauté dépasse
le prétexte. J-L. D., Fear Drop Magazine
Those familiar with the films of Chris Marker (born in 1921 just outside Paris),
notably "La Jetée" (1962), "Le Fond de l'Air
est Rouge" (1977) and "Sans Soleil" (1982), might want
to hunt for links to the seven pieces of music on offer here by, respectively,
Atau Tanaka, Eric La Casa, Marc Behrens, Vitriol (Sirr label boss Paolo
Raposo's group with Carlos Santos), Pimmon, I.D. and Oren Ambarchi.
As I've only seen the first of these films (and that in a state of
beer-induced hysteria only ever experienced by first year college students),
I'll leave others to make such connections - suffice it to say that,
on the strength of much of the music on this album, Marker's films
must be even bleaker than my bleary first semester. Sensorband's Atau
Tanaka writes that Marker is "a sculptor of memory - he can make
us reminisce [sic] of things we have never lived". Liner notes
that include phrases like "an understanding of the Zone as a domain
of deterritorialization and an authentic sphere of possibility",
though doubtless well-intentioned (João Nisa is nowhere near
the worst culprit in this respect), tend to induce mild skepticism
on the part of this listener, given that practitioners of what's become
known as "electronica" have, for well over a decade, been
dolling up unimaginative work with quotes from hip philosophers. Fortunately
the music knows how to rise above the rhetoric, from Tanaka's increasingly
claustrophobic "Rail", via Eric La Casa's exquisitely crafted
music (here sourced from field recordings of wind) to the grey rumblings
of Marc Behrens' "Khabul Rubble" (Behrens' solo album on
Sirr, "Intégracão" is well worth checking out
too). Vitriol's "Sulipsism" starts out with waves (washing
against the proverbial jetty?) and is evocative but a little slow-moving..
perhaps a simultaneous projection of Marker's films would add depth
(though personally I'd settle for their superb live show with computer-generated
visuals by Jeremy Bernstein). The most striking piece on offer comes
from Australia's Paul Gough, aka Pimmon (whose own Sirr offering "Secret
Sleeping Birds" ought to be on your shopping list by now): "Shadow,
shade" once more reveals Gough's singularly original conception
of both overall form and small-scale structure. The ensuing six minutes
of sonic scribble that make up I.D.'s "a!,+{88}" are as indigestible
as its title is unpronounceable, but fortunately things calm down a
little for Oren Ambarchi's closing "Soleil', which starts out
with delicately layered shifting drones, but bursts into sunlight at
the two minute mark. Or, rather, marker. Dan
Warburton, Signal To Noise #27