Michelle Lou (b. 1957)
Near Distant
rec. 2014-21, locations provided below
Kairos 0022301KAI [3 CDs: 203]

This triple album of uncompromising material is not for the faint-hearted. I will therefore desist from encouraging those readers who might regard themselves as ‘general listeners’ to unhesitatingly part with a substantial sum in acquiring it. It would be counterproductive in the extreme for anybody in my view, reviewers, musicologists, audiences, even hardcore new music enthusiasts (especially hardcore new music enthusiasts) to take in three and a half hours of this kind of content, across ten substantial works, in one sitting. Beforehand, one really needs to get some kind of handle on what Michelle Lou is seeking to do with these singular sonic investigations. The word ‘electroacoustic’ might well come to mind but electronics are only explicitly applied in four of these pieces –without a list of tracks to hand you’d actually be hard-pressed to work out which ones; in any case after spending more than a week with this typically luxuriant Kairos package I can offer three observations: (a) Ms Lou has developed and refined a distinct compositional (or is it organisational?) style, (b) whilst her work without question will prove challenging to many listeners I do not believe all these pieces are indigestible, although even I am forced to admit I found a couple to be borderline unlistenable. However, (c) I have come to admire, even to like some of these pieces very much even as I dislike others – not least because several of these artefacts derived from her sonic experiments are intriguing and encourage disciplined, focused listening, which is no bad thing. Curious readers and adventurous listeners will in any case draw their own conclusions, if they manage to last the course….

I confess that I did break my customary protocols by consulting the booklet note before hearing all the pieces here. I started with near distant (disc one track one) and whilst I was certainly appreciative of a ‘flow’ of sound I really had no idea what to make of it. So I looked to Dominic Coles’ brief introduction for guidance. Its brevity turned out to be justified as Lou’s style turned out to be surprisingly stable throughout the majority of this long programme; a significant fingerprint in much of her work is her predilection for inert sonic backgrounds with tones, pulses, scrapings and whirrings which are varies so microscopically that only close listening can truly reveal the changes which do occur. Nor are these miniscule variations restricted to Lou’s sound– there seem to be destabilising interjections of silence (of unfixed duration), tweaks to the background ambience, even unexpected and unfiltered micro-events from live performances have crept in here and there. I think Lou’s music genuinely seeks to investigate the detailed nature of our perception; it challenges that part of our memory psychologists have called our ‘sensory register’ NOT to filter out content which we might reject as unnecessary in normal conditions and to treat unexpected or unfamiliar intrusions as potentially vital. My experience of all this music strongly supports Coles’ assertion that Lou’s work, and its requirement for its audience to actively listen for the entire duration of a piece, pursues an agenda which is unapologetically post-Cageian. Across these ten substantial pieces, each requiring extremely varied instrumental combinations, and of broadly uniform duration (they’re all around the 20 minute mark except Opal, which exceeds half an hour), I would argue that for this music to ‘work’ there is little if any room for the listener to tune out at any stage. Whilst some not unreasonably might feel daunted by this idea, others will truly relish the challenge.

The ten pieces are ordered across the three discs in what seems to be a backward chronological order of composition, and near distant, the opener, certainly feels as though it’s the most fully realised example of Lou’s aesthetic in this set. Like many of the pieces here, the listener joins the fray in medias res. Against a gentle ambient stasis provided by crepuscular bass flute and sax tones, infrequent broken piano notes and gently industrial electronic effects are dispersed which imperceptibly become the focus of attention. Hints of pulse emerge and fade. Close listening reveals tiny timbral shifts in the background. Clockwork tickings, vaporisation like sounds, tiny tintinnabulations coalesce and pause intermittently. There is a frequent juxtaposition of timbres which resemble the sharpening of large blades with something being wound up and unwound. Whilst these admittedly approximate descriptions might imply something noisy and intimidating, the most surprising and impressive aspect of much of Lou’s music is its delicacy. Ghostly organ-like sounds materialise as near distant moves towards a denouement which seems anything but conclusive. I find it difficult to imagine that those listeners who genuinely attempt to yield to this alien sound world will not make telling associations of their own. near distant is perfectly titled given that Lou’s central preoccupation seems to be the nature of conscious and unconscious human perception; it thus proves an apt label for the whole album.

Dominic Coles implies that the pieces on this album fall into two broad categories of what Lou characterises as ‘stasis-variation’, whereby the tiny transformations she applies to the materials that constitute a particular piece create an aural illusion of freedom and variety. near distant thus qualifies as a ‘vertical structure’ in that a limited selection of pre-organised sonic materials are superimposed in different combinations. This strategy seems to underpin some of the other selections, notably the tougher, brazenly experimental Sections 1-20, a quarter-hour duo for electric guitar and cello in which eerie string scrapings and shadowy textural background adumbrations seem stubbornly resilient to the blasts of unidentifiable electronica which interject before the cello dissolves into a relatively comforting bed of gentle white noise. Whether or not this piece is as carefully demarcated as its title implies it certainly seems to be broadly arch-like in its form. Coles proposes that the two versions of the ensemble piece heart/lung included here also embrace this ‘vertical structure’ form. These feedback heavy conceptions are performed by the quartet gnarwhallaby whose constitution of bass clarinet, trombone, cello and piano/electronics is as singular as the combo’s name. Their kinship with near distant (and with each other) in terms of the ‘flow’ of sound, regardless of the verticality of the deployment of their materials is clear even on an initial listen, although the surfaces of the emergent sounds are rougher hewn than those in near distant, any residual harshness in the effect is skilfully moderated by the composer.

molt for percussion trio and electronics inhabits a sonic environment which embodies a broadly consistent, ‘sculpted’ quality throughout its16 minute duration. In this case the predominant textures are a rapid clicking and arrhythmic heartbeat like pulses which frequently open up to introduce new details or reveal sounds which already exist at increased volume or intensity. molt is relentless and rather overbearing in its impact, resembling some kind of imposing machinery whose ultimate purpose is stubbornly unclear. As far as molt is concerned, Dominic Coles alludes to the constant adjustment of a viewer’s perception when they closely inspect a three dimensional abstract sculpture – this provides a metaphorical approximation for the second type of Lou’s ‘stasis-variation’ technique. Whilst this might help make sense of the composer’s methodology, I felt that the rather samey and actually rather ugly sounds that hit the ear in molt elicited nothing whatsoever in the way of an emotional response. For my part at least I have to concede that if I never heard it again it would be too soon.

Other offerings on this survey appear to straddle both these strategic routes. Opal, for example, concludes the first disc and almost amounts to balm to the ear by comparison with molt; a half hour of gentle sax tones which frequently approach inaudibility navigating a terrain combining shy, distant tintinnabuli with and Lou’s favoured battery of processed clicking, grinding and winding effects punctuated by odd, unexpected silences. One’s ear might be drawn to its unpredictability and the volatility of its varying levels of lowish volume; after molt one’s brain might also just be grateful for the quiet restraint which defines most of the piece. At around the 20 minute mark the tension, volume and complexity of Opal builds although not remotely to the point of indigestibility. On the contrary – its duration passes surprisingly quickly; indeed I found Opal more than palatable, It’s absorbing and mysterious.

The gently breathy, undulating intro to Telegrams for bass clarinet and electronics suggests a degree of kinship with Opal but the electronic manipulations Lou applies 200 seconds later briefly augur a sense of menace. A short hiatus delays this momentarily and quietude is restored. As the piece builds Distractfold’s outstanding clarinettist Rocio Bolaños employs multi-phonics and enables these Telegrams to reveal an elegant symmetry before a rather creepy, disarming conclusion constituting a slow-burning crescendo emerging from an amplified multi-phonic chord.

The second disc concludes with Burial for a ten piece ensemble (in this case the renowned Ensemble 2e2m) which is arguably the most conventional group on the disc. Notwithstanding a constitution of three brass, four strings plus electric guitar, accordion and percussion it doesn’t take long for Michelle Lou’s signature percussion sounds to provide the familiar backcloth over which the brass and strings at first exchange forced pleasantries before the work descends into a primer of gestures and strategies heard elsewhere in her work. Intriguingly however, in due course the ensemble morphs into what sounds like a combo of indigenous instruments from the southern hemisphere, including a convincing evocation of didgeridoo and aboriginal percussion, whilst the remaining instruments seemingly project the chirpings and cries of an aviary of exotic birds. Almost from nothing Burial becomes a truly extraordinary ritual.

I will briefly address the two remaining pieces on the third disc. crocodiles requires an unusual quintet of string trio plus electric guitar and bass. Brownie points are on offer to listeners able to detect the presence of any of these instruments, since crocodiles proves to be a 20 minute brutalist din of harsh and unilaterally unpleasant sounds which absolutely defies any level of cogent analysis from this critic at least. Concluding the set is untitled three part construction for accordion and a pair of percussionists. This at least adopts a lighter tone – Anthony Millet’s gentle accordion shapes buzz merrily around typewriter and angling reel percussion textures to no great purpose. Some kind of mute seems to be applied in due course which muffles its impact; after a brief pause accordion notes from the top register mimic sine waves which rise and fall against rapid tapping sounds. These two pieces are amongst the earliest in the set and both went over my head by some distance alas, crocodiles by dint of its sheer ugliness, and the construction though its apparent lack of purpose.

In summary this is a beautifully produced set in the best Kairos tradition. The documentation is succinct and for once seems pretty comprehensible. Given the number of different recording locations and dates, as well as the radically different constitutions of the various ensembles, the sonics are remarkably consistent and given the necessity for focused, detailed listening, deeply impressive. There are occasional audience coughs and the like – or at least I think that’s what they were. It would be most unusual to find everything in such an extensive survey of work by a completely unfamiliar composer of new music to be entirely to one’s taste; whilst I found most of Michelle Lou’s pieces here to be intriguing and well worthy of further investigation, a couple seemed unnecessarily confrontational and harsh. Ultimately my interest has been sufficiently piqued seek out more from this singular composer.

Richard Hanlon

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Details
CD 1
1. near distant for bass flute, tenor saxophone, piano, percussion and electronics (2021)
Ensemble Inverspace
rec. 2021, Alte Feuerwache, Cologne, Germany

2. molt for percussion trio and electronics (2019)
line upon line percussion
rec. 2019, Crashbox Theatre, Austin, Texas, USA

3. Opal for saxophone, percussion and electronics (2018)
Scapegoat
rec. 2018, ArtShare LA, Los Angeles, California, USA

CD 2
1. heart/lung (v. 2) for ensemble (2017)
gnarwhallaby
rec. 2017, Alpert Recital Hall, LACC, Los Angeles, California. USA

2. Telegrams for bass clarinet and electronics (2017)
Distractfold
rec. 2018, Royal Northern College of Music, Manchester, UK

3. Burial for ensemble (2017)
Ensemble 2e2m/Pierre Roullier
rec. 2017, Auditorium Marcel Landowski, Paris, France

CD 3
1. heart/lung (v. 1) for ensemble (2016)
gnarwhallaby
rec. 2016, Walt Disney Concert Hall, Los Angeles, California, USA

2. crocodiles for ensemble (2015)
Distractfold
rec. 2019, Huddersfield University, Huddersfield. UK

3. Sections 1–20 for electric guitar and cello (2015)
WasteLAnd
rec. 2015, ArtShare LA, Los Angeles, California. USA

4. untitled three part construction for accordion and two percussions (2014)
Trio K/D/M
rec. 2014, Remise, Bludenz, Austria