Sunday, August 20, 2006
yannis kyriakides
wordless
[2006, unsounds]
as much as i can identify with anyone glazing over at the sight of an artist bio, it's a little hard to avoid in some cases. so without further ado humour me as i reduce the life of yannis kyriakides to an easily digestible sentence:
moving to england as a cypriot child refugee, yannis probably had a coming of age mirrored somewhat by any number of unendurably dull politically-conscious british films (i may be taking liberties here), grew up to study musicology in york and was eventually lured to the netherlands by the chance to study under big-shot composer louis andriessen.
in terms of the present, he has feet in dutch and greek improvised circles, collaborating with the likes of andy moor (the ex) and nikos veliotis, not to mention a seemingly continous stream of smaller compositions. as confused a picture as that paints, it reflects, to a degree, his ability to wriggle into the crawlspaces between concrete, european minimalism and electronic improv.
wordless, the latest in a fairly concept-heavy portfolio, trawls the belgian public archives' stock of interviews as its primary source. taking inquisitive slice-of-life pieces on the lives of the residents of brussels, kyriakides pares them down to the bare bones of non-verbal reactions and incidental sound events in an effort to present what he calls "another layer of communication". lent a more discernable structure thanks to liberal electronic processing, the result is a sort of shadow sound-poetry, framed by expressionistic environmental impressions. at its worst, heavy-handed composition dominates a little too much, reducing sound sources to a glitchy audio gimmick, but the vast majority of the disc loosens constraints enough to let a spontaneous natural momentum develop.
the effort on the part of kyriakides to retain the original character of the interviewees is the real drawcard though. there are any number of technically impressive text-sound records (take ralf wehowsky's pullover for one) which obsess over nailing down some particular facet of vocalisation, to the detriment of the human charm. kyriakides' refusal to sacrifice the character of each source sidesteps that pitfall, aided by liner notes that supplement each track with brief contextualisations; the hesitations of the software engineer of the second track, who "often waits for the interviewer to tell him what to say", are buttressed by tense pricks and sour electronic laments. in almost all cases, reading about the people involved helps to reveal unnoticed dimensions and colours in each portrait.
as a footnote of sorts, it's also worth mentioning the honorary mention i see it garnered in the great ars electronica prix of '06, a year in which the field was shockingly relevant for a change. seeing the sunn 0))) boys draw the same honours isn't far short of the unnervingly surreal.
music salesperson_0618
Liner notes: "Entering the record store, Arlequin, in the centre of the city, the atmosphere is relaxed, the interviewee is very shy to begin with, but slowly relaxes by the passing and going of clients and regulars. He talks about his passion for the radio, and the atmosphere of the studio."
[2006, unsounds]
as much as i can identify with anyone glazing over at the sight of an artist bio, it's a little hard to avoid in some cases. so without further ado humour me as i reduce the life of yannis kyriakides to an easily digestible sentence:
moving to england as a cypriot child refugee, yannis probably had a coming of age mirrored somewhat by any number of unendurably dull politically-conscious british films (i may be taking liberties here), grew up to study musicology in york and was eventually lured to the netherlands by the chance to study under big-shot composer louis andriessen.
in terms of the present, he has feet in dutch and greek improvised circles, collaborating with the likes of andy moor (the ex) and nikos veliotis, not to mention a seemingly continous stream of smaller compositions. as confused a picture as that paints, it reflects, to a degree, his ability to wriggle into the crawlspaces between concrete, european minimalism and electronic improv.
wordless, the latest in a fairly concept-heavy portfolio, trawls the belgian public archives' stock of interviews as its primary source. taking inquisitive slice-of-life pieces on the lives of the residents of brussels, kyriakides pares them down to the bare bones of non-verbal reactions and incidental sound events in an effort to present what he calls "another layer of communication". lent a more discernable structure thanks to liberal electronic processing, the result is a sort of shadow sound-poetry, framed by expressionistic environmental impressions. at its worst, heavy-handed composition dominates a little too much, reducing sound sources to a glitchy audio gimmick, but the vast majority of the disc loosens constraints enough to let a spontaneous natural momentum develop.
the effort on the part of kyriakides to retain the original character of the interviewees is the real drawcard though. there are any number of technically impressive text-sound records (take ralf wehowsky's pullover for one) which obsess over nailing down some particular facet of vocalisation, to the detriment of the human charm. kyriakides' refusal to sacrifice the character of each source sidesteps that pitfall, aided by liner notes that supplement each track with brief contextualisations; the hesitations of the software engineer of the second track, who "often waits for the interviewer to tell him what to say", are buttressed by tense pricks and sour electronic laments. in almost all cases, reading about the people involved helps to reveal unnoticed dimensions and colours in each portrait.
as a footnote of sorts, it's also worth mentioning the honorary mention i see it garnered in the great ars electronica prix of '06, a year in which the field was shockingly relevant for a change. seeing the sunn 0))) boys draw the same honours isn't far short of the unnervingly surreal.
music salesperson_0618
Liner notes: "Entering the record store, Arlequin, in the centre of the city, the atmosphere is relaxed, the interviewee is very shy to begin with, but slowly relaxes by the passing and going of clients and regulars. He talks about his passion for the radio, and the atmosphere of the studio."
