Stephen Fruitman

Celer, Cantus Libres (2 CDR self-released)

Though they only started releasing music in 2004, this husband and wife duo of multidisciplinarians has been so prolific, and are so obviously talented and imaginative, that it has quickly garned respect and admiration from all corners of the ambient listening (and performing) community. Note for instance the shift in their discography from mainly self-released items to the plethora of labels - mostly musician-run - now lining up to release their work.

Cantus Libres from 2007 is one of those self-releases, consisting of a series of "free" interpretations of Estonian composer Arvo Pärt´s "Cantus in Memoriam Benjamin Britten", each one far longer than the original few, breathtaking minutes.

Using the same form of surge-and-cascade execution as Pärt, the first track is quite faithful to the original, opening with exquisitely graceful violins in the highest register which dance slowly downward, while another mass of strings surges over them along a more level plane, nearly obscuring them in flow, re-revealing their continued descent in ebb.

The second and all subsequent tracks over the two discs continues the theme but varies the surging wave and/or cascading rain of strings – contrasting them with elongated silences, turning them slightly more dissonant, bringing them slightly closer, sending them slightly further away.

Moreover, Danielle Baquet-Long and Will Long seem to embrace Pärt´s unique "tintinnabulist" composition technique, thinking in terms of bell-like notes each allowed to stand and quaver before striking the next.

With slight shifts in angle and momentum, they turn each individual variation into a different drama.

All of which shimmer stunningly.

artificialcolors.blogspot.com/

Pocka, Uhrwerk (CDR The Hand Work Press)

A beauty of a private, letterpress edition made in only thirty copies by fellow electronic artist Matt Borghi. Brad "Pocka" Mitchell is an enthusiastic, if now maybe crestfallen, supporter of small music, which he released in a steady stream on his now-defunct Kikapu netlabel.

Uhrwerk is as minimalist and handmade as its cover, with Pocka exploring a select few sounds at a time, patiently turning them over in his hands like rare diamonds, contemplating the refracting light in their cuts. The album opens with an untitled track - they all are - which could serve as the soundtrack to the rising morning sun, played on singing water glasses.

The third track of nine unfurls with a mere whisper of strings, their tendrils coming together in a loose braid as it evolves. Five sounds like an old radiator blowing, um, off steam. Six, on the other hand, breaks the chains of gravity and floats off into space sending random signals back to earth. Seven finds him still in outer space but not happy about it, left alone to cogitate on the utter emptiness and loneliness he now inhabits.

Eight seems to curl back in on itself, becoming even more introverted. The pleasant back-and-forth twang of the finale sounds like a kind of reconciliation and acceptance of the symmetrical repetitiveness of eternity.

Produced with the utmost simplicity of classical style, Uhrwerk, like its folder, is a unique piece of craftsmanship.

http://www.thehandworkpress.com

Max Richter, Songs From Before (Fat Cat)

This album has been out for a while and praised to the skies by just about all and sundry, but it´s worth reminding oneself about in the midst of the summer steam.

A new breed of young, non-conventional minimalist composers - with (just names off the top of my head) Sylvain Chaveau, Nico Muhly, Greg Haines, Ryan Teague and of course Max Richter in the vanguard - has emerged in recent years, utilizing mostly "classical", acoustic instruments though thoroughly versed in the electronica their minimalist forebears (Reich, Reilly, Young) turned to in search of a new way, when the stuff was still just being invented.

This family resemblance with the sixties minimalists is further evident in a propensity for shirking the trodden path to an audience - the earlier generation debuted their music in art galleries or lofts or composed for dance theatre, and the new ones do so directly on record.

This may very well be the most beautiful new music I have heard in four or five years. Richter, born 1966, has certainly been conventionally schooled, including a conservatory education and time under Luciano Berio in Florence. However, he has also played piano for the Future Sound of London, orchestrated for drum´n´bass king Roni Size and produced rediscovered singer Vashti Bunyan.

Richter´s Songs From Before is a kind of profane minimalism in contrast to the "holy" sort insofar as it leads the mind toward contemplation, not things spiritual so much as of this world and its wonders, both here now and lost forever. He scores for a tiny ensemble comprised of piano and three strings subtly treated in an acid bath of grainy static over a dozen brief, emotionally-charged pieces, puncuated occasionally by recitations from the work of Japanese author Haruki Murakami by none other than Robert Wyatt. His soft, avuncular voice is so reassuring.

In the era of post-irony and arm´s-length distance, you would be hard put to find more honest, touching music than Richter´s. Its nostalgic air seems both personal and universal, further enhanced by his arrangements - perhaps the solo violin of "Ionosphere" is wafting out of someone else´s parlour window, or maybe it has been sampled from an old 78 (it is neither). "Sunlight" is a melody you must have heard before, but haven´t.

If it is indeed so difficult to make beautiful, unapologetically sentimental music anymore, then how come it comes so easily to Max Richter?

http://www.fat-cat.co.uk