actuellecd

Musique pour objets en voie de disparition [Music for Objects on the Verge of Extinction]

Diane Labrosse

Above all, the sense of joyful mischievousness characterizing the album causes us to realize why there’s no need of disproportionate solemnity to conceive stimulating music. Touching Extremes, Italy

La mia convinzione è che Musique pour objets en voie de disparition non solo sia un disco molto bello… Wonderous Stories, Italy

Eight pieces like eight flashbacks to a bygone daily sonic life. A nostalgia-prone stroll down obsolescence lane. Eight pieces like eight memories and stories, true or fictional, happy or sad, in Technicolor or Smell-o-rama.

+ 1. Night, snores, tick-tock, peace, dreams, drrrring! + 2. Desert, wind, sand, blues, pulleys, windmill, sun + 3. Play, unwind, rewind, clack, fast-forward, tape, a reedy voice + 4. Mystery, tension, clock, action, drama, ring… nobody! + 5. The fall of black and white in a “natural” context + 6. The printer_. Nostalgia for the future. Soon, it will be only virtual + 7. Messages left on cassettes, found in flea markets and bazaars, stories by “real” people. (Thanks to Shirley and Ginette) + 8. The hum of percolators, the gargles of coffee going up and down, music in smell-o-rama for a rainy morning.

This disc was entirely assembled without the consent of the musicians playing on it. I thank them for agreeing to record “blindfolded” and let me manipulate them as I pleased. (Diane Labrosse)

CD (AM 170)

  • Label: Ambiances Magnétiques
  • AM 170
  • 2007
  • UCC 771028117024
  • Total duration: 42:54
  • Sympathique case
  • 126 mm × 126 mm × 5 mm
  • 35 g

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In the press

Review

Massimo Ricci, Touching Extremes, December 1, 2008

In the late 80s/early 90s Ambiances Magnétiques was among my darling labels but, inexplicably, with the passage of time I kind of lost contact and became less aware of their production. My loss, as this CD from 2007 is indeed a clever-sounding artifact needing to be rescued from a dimension of implicit oblivion. Diane Labrosse has always been a bright-minded artist, collaborations with the likes of Jean Derome, Michel F Côté, Geneviève Letarte and Joane Hétu just a small fraction of a career expanding through the whole gamut of avant-garde. As the record title explains, the tracks were constructed around the utilization of “objects on the verge of extinction”, such as alarm clocks, black and white TV sets, old printers and electric percolators. Labrosse, who’s gifted with a wholehearted compositional wisdom allowing her to understand what’s the ideal balance of the ingredients in a piece, utilized the “voices” of the machines in relatively comprehensible contexts, typically featuring a maximum of one or two instruments. She was helped by Marie-Soleil Bélanger, Jean Derome, Bernard Falaise, Lori Freedman, Jean René and Pierre Tanguay, stalwarts of the Quebecoise scene who contributed with efficient proposals and untarnished inventiveness to Labrosse’s conceptions. This is a delightful assortment of physical antiquity and instrumental individuality that leaves plentiful spaces for the intellect to take action, moments of charged standstill to be found amidst systematic reiteration and mechanical interplay. Above all, the sense of joyful mischievousness characterizing the album causes us to realize why there’s no need of disproportionate solemnity to conceive stimulating music.

Above all, the sense of joyful mischievousness characterizing the album causes us to realize why there’s no need of disproportionate solemnity to conceive stimulating music.

Recensione

Vincenzo Giorgio, Wonderous Stories, no. 13:36, July 1, 2008

Fin da quando l’italico Luigi Russolo, all’inizio del secolo scorso inventò l’“intona-rumori” e il francese Pierre Henry si dedicò negli studi di Parigi a quel ramo della musica elettronica poi definita “musica concreta” la nostra musa preferita ha iniziato a guardare non solo dentro ma “oltre” se stessa (per tacere degli orizzonti aperti da John Cage…). Un capitolo interessante viene ora riaperto da questa musicista/compositrice/fisarmonicista canadese che si diletta a “estrarre poesia intrinseca” in oggetti desueti. La mia convinzione è che Musique pour objets en voie de disparition non solo sia un disco molto bello ma, visto il materiale che utilizza, anche abbastanza accessibile. Diane, infatti, mischia sapientemente i suoni di svariati oggetti (sveglie, TV, stampanti, magnetofoni, racchette da ping pong) con quelli di strumenti tradizionali (violino, violoncello, flauto, tromba, clarinetto, fisarmonica, percussioni) con il risultato di otto dolci composizioni dalle timbriche sospese, talora crepuscolari e sommesse. Come non rimanere ammaliati dai quei quattro minuti di La télé noir et blanc con il clarinetto di Lori Freedman a dialogare con le onde di una vecchia TV in bianco e nero? E che dire di quella fisarmonica che, come un tetro maestro di cerimonie, introduce un atemporale standby telefonico? Così come quel lugubre ticchettìo di sveglia lontana si mescola con i toni bassi della chitarra di Bernard Falaise proiettandoci in un tempo rarefatto ed alieno.

Musica per trattenere il passato, rivitalizzandolo.

La mia convinzione è che Musique pour objets en voie de disparition non solo sia un disco molto bello…

Kritik

Rigobert Dittmann, Bad Alchemy, no. 58, May 1, 2008

Musik ‘für Dasunddas + Tonband’ ist uns vertraut, aber + 13 tickende Wecker? + handbetriebene Kaffemühle? + 3 Wählscheibentelefone? + 8 Fernseher? + 2 Drucker? + automatischer Anrufbeantworter? + 12 Kaffeemaschinen? All das findet man auf Musique pour objets en voie de disparation (AM 170) von Diane Labrosse. ‘En voie de disparation’ klingt ein wenig nach ‘(Frauen) am Rande des Nervenzusammenbruchs’. Aber die Grande Dame der Musique actuelle wird, um ihren musikalischen Alltag erfolgreich zu gestalten, punktuell unterstützt von Marie-Soleil Bélanger (Geige), Jean Derome (Flöte), Bernard Falaise (E-Gitarre), Lori Freedman (Klarinette), Jean René (Viola) & Pierre Tanguay (Percussion), während sie selbst Akkordeon spielt und alle Zutaten elektroakustisch vermischt. Jede Mixtur reizt verspielt und effektvoll die jeweilige Rezeptur aus: Uhren ticken, Derome schnarcht, dongdongdong klopft der Morgen an die Tür, der Schläfer träumt noch, der Wecker rasselt; eine Geige geigt chinesisch angeschrägt, jemand zerpulvert Kaffebohnen, eine Maultrommel twangt, jemand summt — der Tag kann kommen; jemand wählt sich den Finger wund und reagiert auf das Besetztzeichen mit unmutigem Akkordeongewummer; Derome flötet von Weitem mit einem Tonbandgerät, das schnurrend rotiert, und die Viola zupft dazu Pizzikati; die TV-Konferenzschaltung ist ein von Vögeln bezwitschertes, weiß überrauschtes Pingpongmatch, und die Klarinette seufzt ganz jämmerlich dazu; die Drucker steppen pointillistische Botschaften auf einen dunklen Dröhnfond; die Gitarre schrappt grummelig gegen ein Gewirr von Automatenstimmen an; während der Kaffee durchschmurgel, geht zu melancholischen Gitarrendrones ein Gewitter nieder.

Aber die Grande Dame der Musique actuelle wird, um ihren musikalischen Alltag erfolgreich zu gestalten…

Review

Dolf Mulder, Vital, no. 622, April 8, 2008

Two veterans from the Montréal music scene present their newest work. For her new project Diane Labrosse invited the following musicians: Marie-Soleil Bélanger (violin), Jean Derome (flute, fake trumpet), Bernard Falaise (electric guitar), Lori Freedman (clarinet), Jean René (viola), Pierre Tanguay (percussion). Labrosse herself plays accordion. It is a sort of concept album. In 8 compositions she makes use of concrete noises we all know from our daily lives: clocks, telephones, printers, answering machines, etc. Without any manipulation these sounds are integrated in a musical background, by which she tries to evoke a story and atmosphere around these sounds. One could call it a non verbal radioplay, a sonic story that in a way moves along a narrative line. In each composition we hear only one or few musicians. We never hear an ensemble playing. “This disc was entirely assembled without the consent of the musicians playing on it. I thank them for agreeing to record ‘blindfolded’ and let me manipulate them as I pleased” Labrosse explains. So these compositions are probably the result of a lot of editing, etc. This way she has built nice impressionistic, soundscaping pieces. They are carefully structured, with a good feeling for balance and atmosphere.

This way she has built nice impressionistic, soundscaping pieces.

Recensione

Stefano Isidoro Bianchi, Blow Up, no. 119, April 1, 2008

Diane Labrosse ha avuto un’idea simpatica, originale, delicata, tenerissima. Creare una “musica per oggetti che stanno per scomparire”: otto tracce dedicate a sveglia, moka, registratore a nastro, telefono analogico, TV in bianco e nero, stampante, segreteria telefonica, calcolatore elettrico. Come portare a termine la missione? Registrando i rispettivi suoni-rumori e musicandoli assieme a un ensemble di sei esperti musicisti come Marie-Soleil Bélanger (violino), Jean Derome (flauto e trombetta vocale), Bernard Falaise (chitarra elettrica), Lori Freedman (clarinetto), Jean René (viola) e Pierre Tanguay (percussioni); per sé Diane riserva la fisarmonica. La connessione diretta tra le musiche proposte e i rumori ad esse connessi sfugge (al di là della malinconia di fondo di tutti i pezzi) ma non è ovviamente questo il punto. Tutto ruota infatti intorno ai suoni messi in campo, sempre semplici e nudi di fronte al doloroso annaspare degli oggetti morenti: un metronomico battito di corde (Le réveille-matin à tic-tac, Le magnétophone à ruban), un violino colmo di nostalgia (Le moulin à café manuel, splendida), il melodrammatico incombere di soffi di fisarmonica (Le téléphone à cadran rotatif), il disperato urlo del clarinetto nel mezzo di un caos primordiale (La télé noir et blanc), il flauto che galleggia tra le compressioni ritmiche di una formidabile progressione minimal techno (L’imprimante), l’abile goffo rigurgitare delle note basse di una chitarra (Le répondeur à cassettes), la viola e la fisarmonica che stendono un telo ambient avvolgendo il brulicare di una calcolatrice (Le percolateur électrique). Spesso, tra i pezzi, lo squillo di una sveglia che avverte “memento mori” ai trapassandi. Struggente. (8/10)

Diane Labrosse ha avuto un’idea simpatica, originale, delicata, tenerissima. Creare una “musica per oggetti che stanno per scomparire”: otto tracce dedicate a sveglia, moka, registratore a nastro…

Oursins express

Laurent Catala, Octopus, January 10, 2008

Aux côtés d’Aimé Dontigny ou de Martin Tétreault, Diane Labrosse fait partie de ses activistes de la matière sonore qui font de la belle province québécoise une terre d’accueil pour les expressions musicales électroacoustiques les plus fouineuses. Au-delà d’un sens du recyclage à l’opportunisme éclairé, ce Musique pour objets en voie de disparition de la compositrice traduit une série d’appareils utilitaires et électro-ménagers en générateurs sonores, les sortant de leur contexte laborieux pour tracer des pistes audios étrangement méditatives comme pour le magnétophone à ruban, parasités de bruit blanc, de field recordings et de fréquences abrasives (la télé en noir et blanc et l’imprimante) ou teintées d’un humour vocalisé (le répondeur à cassettes qui vous souhaite la bonne année). Variée et consistante, voici la bande-son idéale pour aller chiner sur les braderies.

Variée et consistante, voici la bande-son idéale pour aller chiner sur les braderies.

More texts

  • Réjean Beaucage, Voir, no. 22:2, January 10, 2008
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