Reality continuously mutates, depending on the point of observation. A road is not only a road, it has been a mountain, a forest, probably an open sea; maybe even nothing at all.

Time itself is a concept that most frequently appears to be nothing more than a “market trick” that very little adds to each individual’s life. Quite the contrary indeed!Martusciello, Lella and Fega seem to be perfectly aware of the duplicity hidden under every thing and every event; their solo activities clearly show the unstoppable need to trespass the worn schemes of most electroacoustic improv music; their ideal model is loss, not certainty.

The language of this unitarian approach seem to greatly amplify their single voices, and to act as an hypothetic convex mirror generating altered visions of the surroundings.

Ad Esempio, for instance, with its mysterious clarinet moving on the surface of a series of background noise, is exemplary in its enigmatic pace; the distant jerks seem to be actual disturbances of everyday life that suddenly break forward; is this a bad dream fully aware of being bad?

Probably yes. Everything becomes even clearer in Eme, when a female voice set against silence and a whole array of sound disturbances, exclaims “scamorza e prosciutto”, before being swallowed one more time into the noisy background.

This is the soundtrack to a hypothetic documentary on a silent Miles Davis, or a reportage on Throbbing Gristle while preparing the sauce for their pasta during the recordings of 20 Jazz Funk Greats, or even a movie yet to be filmed. This is the perfect shell to listen to if you’re treasure-hunting; but if what you will listen is just the sound of the sea, or even nothing at all, do not worry; only the shell and what you want to ear, counts. Everything else will show up, sooner or later, whether you want it or not. The lunar or circus-like contortions-according to your state of mind-that permeate Dipinto sul Nulla are, if that’s still possible, yet another confirmation of everything said so far.

The crossing over of the mere act of seeing and earing. A road that suddenly transforms itself into a forest and then a stone and then back again into a road. This is without any doubt one of the crucial pivot of our own home-grown contemporaneity.

Go out and bring it home at any cost.

Voto 8