’24 Postcards in Full Colour’
is the latest and most conceptually experimental release by Edinburgh-based
pianist/composer Max Richter. Following on from the radiant and
haunting electronica steeped neo-classical compositions of his
previous three albums, ’24 Postcards…’ is a
release that breaks down this much vaunted electro-acoustic formula
into a varied collection of evocative miniatures, each offering
a glimpse into potentially much larger pieces.
’24 Postcards….’ is an
attempt to explore the ringtone as a vehicle for musical performance
and as such, the album contains 24 tracks ranging from 60 seconds
to just under 3 minutes. Richter’s intention is to premiere
the work in various gallery spaces where pre-registered audience
members receive SMS messages which results in the playing-back
of one or more of the tracks. Indeed, this is an ambitious and
cleverly thought-through affair that should be witnessed and must
be applauded, but is it any good musically? Well, yes! Richter
carves out simple yet evocative snippets of deliciously suggestive
classical compositions which arc and gleam with a majestic quality.
Similar, both in style and length to a score for a classy film
like American Beauty, Richter utilises an orchestra of 9 and a
limited palette of instrumentation that consists of string quintet;
solo piano; 16 track 2 inch tape; transistors; found shortwave
radio; vinyl clicks and acoustic guitars. From this, a clean and
melodic sound is born, one that fully amplifies the resonant quality
of the instrumental tones but complements it with a brooding and
occasionally jilted industrial ambience.
Throughout, delicious liquid piano melodies
bob hypnotically like distant waves and elongated strings echo
with melancholy forlornness to create rich and harmonious textures
that transport you to landscapes unknown yet never feared. The
variation in ’24 Postcards’ has to be praised. The
mournful strings making up ‘This Picture of Us’ bob
and sway with rich harmony and vivid texture, moving the listener
closer to a parallel universe where dreams reign supreme. Further
on, ‘A Sudden Manhattan of the Mind’ comes across
like a requiem to a cargo-ship lost at sea, the imaginary camera
panning around in the murky, sub-aqua terrain to catch a glimpse
of a rusting hull. Proceedings take a twist with ‘In Louiseville
At 7’, which echoes the works of Ninja Tune’s electro-folk
pioneer, Fog, thanks to its presentation of a cut-up background
of vocals and shifting frequencies that grace a plaintive yet
upbeat passage of meandering melody.
Sure the cut up nature of the album will
put some off, and sure, the same tracks welded into a lengthy
composition would have been more appetizing but somehow, the whole
thing works. This is most probably down to the fact that compositions
borne out of the same mold recur through-out the album creating
a sense of déjà-vu as well as allowing the listener
to chart some kind of linear progression. (KS)
For
fans of: Alva Noto & Ryuchi Sakamoto
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