Cisterciennes documents the meeting by two improvisers at the top of their game. Martin Tétreault is an experimental turntablist and a fixture in the Montréal musique actuelle scene since 1988, whose decades-spanning career includes collaborations with hallowed avant-garde figures René Lussier, Diane Labrosse, Otomo Yoshihide, Ikue Mori, Kevin Drumm and the late Philip Jeck. As for Érick d’Orion, his radio show Napalm Jazz was a stalwart of experimental music in the ‘90s before turning into a long-running improv band. He has since made several live appearances, whether in solo or alongside other improvisers such as Sam Shalabi, Ilpo Vaisanen or Evan Parker.

The two shared an aesthetic kinship which quickly turned into friendship after d’Orion moved to Montréal in 2015. Soon after, the pair started playing together, which led to a long standing musical collaboration.

Martin Tétreault’s style on the turntable is instantly recognizable: alternately rash and tender, always unpredictable, yet never devoid of humor, it channels the very physicality of the vinyl into a million shards of gray glitter. As for d’Orion, his thunderous, elemental style owes to the most out-there strands of cosmic jazz and noise rock. Both are perfectly capable of brute force noise, but together, they do something more patient and deliberate.

Cisterciennes follows three previous albums by the pair, 1948 (Kohlenstoff, 2016), Avant (Tour de Bras, 2017) and Vigiles (Tour de Bras, 2023), as well as Printemps 2021, a live album recorded at the famed Victoriaville International Music Festival, alongside Robbie Kuster and René Lussier.

Cisterciennes was recorded while retreating in a former Cistercian abbey in Saint-Benoît-Labre, QC, Canada, hence the title. The atmosphere of this particular location is deeply ingrained into the album structure, with references to a monastic day, beginning with the insistent rumble of Matines, culminating through the dynamic centerpiece L’ascension de Labre, and ending with the hypnotic descent into evening of Vespera.

Fitting such a sombre setting, Cisterciennes is suffused with uncommon poise and deliberateness more reminiscent of Philip Jeck or James Leyland Kirby than the audio hijinks the duo has been known for. Yet the patient ambient noise veneer hides an exciting improv session by two veteran performers who have both mastered their craft. Tétreault’s vinyl crackling grounds much of the improvisations, while d’Orion’s electronic manipulations provide a stunning aerial counterpoint. Cisterciennes is a high note for Tétreault to act his farewell to the live scene, as the artist now intends to focus on visual arts, as well as pursuing his longtime practice composing incidental music for dance and theatre.