Une belle collaboration en compagnie de Sylvie Chenard (guitare électrique), Maryse Poulin (saxophone), Alexandre St-Onge (bouche électronique) et Martin Tétreault (tourne-disques). Thématique, cet environnement sonore enveloppe l’eau, le rythme aquatique, le chant de la baleine. Textures, pulsion, puissance des courants et j’en passe. Nous pénétrons dans un univers parallèle tout aussi puissant que l’espace. D’une ampleur et d’une exubérance surprenantes. Cette myriade de sons filtrés, agencés, complétés par l’insertion d’instruments laissent une empreinte étrange, presque futuriste. C’est à la fois un univers qui nous est encore inconnu, fragile et fluctuant. L’océan possède son propre rythme. C’est ce que nous fait découvrir Océan pour la suite, un collectif d’exploration surprenant. Une belle expérience!

Chef de file des musiques actuelles québécoises, Jean Derome poursuit avec Canot-Camping une œuvre de compositeur hors normes. Le saxophoniste et multi-instrumentiste s’entoure ici de >onze canoteurs improvisateurs chevronnés”, compagnons de route du label et collectif Ambiances magnétiques (Joane Hétu, Diane Labrosse, Pierre Tanguay, Martin Tétreault) ou interlocuteurs plus récents (Nicolas Caiola, Guillaume Dostaler, Normand Guilbeault, Jean René, Tom Walsh, Rainer Wiens). Une formation hétéroclite où se mêlent instruments acoustiques (piano, violon, trombone…), électriques (guitare, tourne-disques, échantillonneur…) et inventés. De ses expéditions en canot dans le nord du Québec, Jean Derome a ramené le pari un peu fou de traduire en musique un voyage improvisé. Des sections alternées ou superposées sont dirigées par des signes suivant les aléas du parcours: Lac, Vagues, Monter la tente, Popote-vaisselle, Plongeon-baignade, Rapide… A travers le fourmillement des matières sonores, chacun se fait le porte-parole de son propre voyage, construit une trajectoire dont la résonance se veut collective. C’est pourtant ce qui peine à se faire entendre ici. Outre le manque de lisibilité, la direction d’ensemble s’avère confuse pour l’auditeur. Du projet à sa réalisation, manque l’ivresse de la découverte.

The title of this new CD of solo improvisations by clarinetist Lori Freedman translates as “In a Given Moment”. That aptly sums up the fearless, often troubling, sometimes playful, but ultimately ecstatic extemporizations of this extraordinary Canadian artist. With the enormous range of ‘extended’ sounds she draws from the bass and B-flat clarinets—singing and playing different pitches at the same time; playing only the mouthpiece; tapping percussively with fingers or mouth, and so on—one is tempted to say that the only sound that Freedman would be incapable of creating is one that has no meaning. The CD is on the independent Montréal label DAME; if unavailable through stores.

The third installment in Klaxon Gueule’s adventures showcases a mature trio that continues to evolve albeit at a slower rate. After the complete transformation that occurred between Bavard and Muets, Grain solidifies the group’s new grounds, expanding its pastures without leaving old ones behind. Michel F Côté, Bernard Falaise and Alexandre St-Onge display some of the highest forms of listening among electroacoustic improvisers. They don’t content themselves with mere textures, however rich and complex they may be. The ten pieces on this short CD (42 minutes) feel like songs. Improvised, they nevertheless sound like they have been structured and polished. To take the music further the trio expands to a quintet on five tracks with the addition of Sam Shalabi and Christof Migone, both on electronics. The two guests have become pillars of the “new” (aka noise-based, electronics-based) improvisation in Montréal and are involved with members of Klaxon Gueule in various other projects. Their integration goes seamless, enriching the music with levels of sound pollution that help mesh individual contributions into a unified group sound without obliterating them. Klaxon Gueule pulls out an impressive balance act between rhythm and texture, forward motion and abstract stillness. Grain is a solid third album, similar but nothing like its older brother.

More interesting noises from the excellent French Canadian label, Ambiances Magnétiques, this time a concept album about winter. Each of the four tracks is intended to represent one of the four months of winter (December to March) and all the various guises of cold, ice, snow, social interaction, isolation and visual imagery that this entails. The usual crew of the AM company are here with Joane Hétu: Pierre Tanguay, Jean Derome, Diane Labrosse and Guillaume Dostaler, and the music is both accomplished and imaginative. The group really do move through every possible aspect of winter, at times engaging in a Satie-like sense of melancholy isolation, which reminds me of that Scandinavian feeling known as ‘Heikko valo’, which means ‘weak light’. That early morning/late night transition from day to night and back again that never quite gets there, never gets dark enough. There are also elements of folk dancing, fairgrounds, children at play, and wrapped up families trudging through brightly lit snowscapes. This snow is fun too. Moments of isolated anguish are broken by a bunch of giggling children shooting across your path. The French vocalising is strange to non-Canuck ears, adding a misleading European slant to the North American feeling. Luckily, the vocals are imaginative and not intrusive like so many other CDs that would be perfectly fine if people didn’t feel the need to stick poetry all over them. These are song moments in large pieces, and they work fine. This CD really covers every aspect of winter in Canada, from the cheerful harshness of the daylight or the majestic power of a mighty landscape to the deceptive warmth of the deadly cold and the true warmth of hearth and kin. File under Baked Alaska.

Océan pour la suite marks Montréal guitarist Sylvie Chenard’s jump from self-releasing to label support. New blood for the Ambiances Magnétiques stables, she offers here thirteen short duets (between 30 seconds and six and a half minutes) with three avant-garde musicians: household turntablist Martin Tétreault, saxophonist Maryse Poulin, and Shalabi Effect and Klaxon Gueule member Alexandre St-Onge, here playing “electronic mouth” (contact microphones placed in the mouth, yes) like in his project Undo with Christof Migone. Chenard is a multi-faceted artist. For this particular album she focuses on textural noise, playing the guitar like Keith Rowe’s tabletop. Another reference would be what Marina Rosenfeld aims for in her Sheer Frost Orchestra. Only in Peau de pays and a couple more pieces toward the end of the disc does what common people call “guitar playing” surface. Everywhere else we float between live electroacoustic constructions and echo-drenched drones. Chenard’s presence is ominous and yet discreet, as the sound of her instrument meshes in with her partner’s. Electronics being the key of this album, pinpointing where one’s action ends and the other’s begins becomes a difficult and meaningless task. Each musician brings out a different side of her, but a special chemistry takes place with Tétreault, yielding the best tracks, rich and challenging. Océan à vendre/For Sale, released a month later, contains music of a more exciting nature, but this CD will appeal to fans of electroacoustic Improv.