Andrzej Nowak (Spontaneous Music Tribune) on Aspects of Memory by Lawrence Casserley / Emil Karlsen

Lawrence Casserley, a master of subtle electronic sounds and stylish, sometimes filigree live processing, in a meeting with the young Norwegian drummer and percussionist Emil Karlsen, is the subject of our today's interests. Aspects of Memory is a recording skillfully stretched in time, exquisitely constructed, dramatized, saturated with delicious sounds, arranged in a story in whose context the concept of phonic relaxation seems to take on other, surprisingly dark dimensions.

The opening improvisation is made up of small, selected percussion actions, enveloped by a patch of sound, which could just as well be blasts from an acoustic wind instrument tube. We know not only from this story that these are the first of these activities of the master of processing , here probably even pre-processing . The narrative unfolds in a dark but fleeting, somewhat ceremonial atmosphere. The percussion, placed in the center of events, sways in a cloud of unspoken phrases, which grows with the growing self-interest of the drummer's actions. This cloud gains an almost symphonic momentum and such, definitely Lovecraftian horror. The second story seems calmer, more dreamlike, as if both musicians had immersed themselves in water and were trying to march. In the second phase of this piece, noise increases. Perhaps the percussion has just been given wings and is fanning them intensively.

The third part of the album lasts almost twenty minutes and is an exceptional sonic event. The beginning is created by the drummer, who seems to be having a discussion with the silence. In the background, sounds are rampant, which we could easily consider as evidence of the presence of a swarm of insects. The narrative resembles fog settling on a damp meadow. In time, it swells, spreads, forms into something like ambient enriched by the rustle of the drum kit. Halfway through the recording, the musicians drown in silence, carried by the glow of rustling cymbals. The culmination of this extraordinary journey is the drone-ambient phase, during which the drums achieve complete unification with the electronic layer. This post-acoustics seems incredibly beautiful.

In the fourth part, the ritual is in full swing. Gongs and deep drumming rolling on the floor build tension, and the nerve of creation carries the artists to fields of unfathomable mystery. Basically, we only hear the drums, which are covered in an almost inaudible layer of electroacoustic dust. The story has its small peak here, then dies in post-percussion details. The beginning of the last part is built by rustling silence and small, prepared percussion phrases. We have the impression that the musicians are once again standing knee-deep in water. The drummer systematically expands the area of ​​his activity. Drummer trinkets rustle, some sounds resemble the sound of a vibraphone, maybe a gamelan and certainly processed cymbals. A delicate, almost fleeting narrative, in which the presence of the processor seems to be almost imperceptible. It is only a rustle, a breath of silence, a fine layer of dust settling on the subtly working drums. Occasionally the processor seems to ignite acoustic actions, sometimes extinguish them, other times nurture them. The ending itself is quite intense, as for the canons of this album. And equally exceptional.

Stewart Smith (The Wire) on Aspects of Memory by Lawrence Casserley / Emil Karlsen, and Shadow Figures by Spaces Unfolding + Pierre Alexandre Tremblay

One of the most appealing - and mind-bending-features of electroacoustic improvisation is when it’s not entirely clear where the sound is coming from. As the inventor of his own Signal-Processing Instrument, Lawrence Casserley is a master of this, transforming the playing of his collaborators in real time.

On “Aspects of Memory” his source is Emil Karlsen’s live percussion. On opening track “Imagining” crisp percussive timbres become a torrent as Casserley creates the impression of a bag of drumsticks being emptied on the floor, with Karlsen handling the low end in response. On the 19th minute “Embodying” rubbed, brushed and bowed cymbals mingle with their digital ghosts, the filters and delays rendering acoustic sounds uncanny. There’s a fade halfway through, before a nimbus cloud of reverb and white noise looms into view, shedding droplets of percussion. Tactile and kinetic, “Experiencing” focuses on bells and click-clack drum sounds, with Karlsen’s woodpecker bursts playing off Casserley’s whirrs and backwards cymbals.

It’s easier to work out who’s doing what on Shadow Figures, with electronic musician Pierre Alexandre Tremblay holding his own alongside the Spaces Unfolding trio of Karlsen, flautist Neil Metcalfe and violinist Phillip Wachsmann. That’s not a criticism - the group’s interplay is superb, with Tremblay’s mix of self-generated sounds and live processing a catalyst.

On “Shadow Figures Pt. 1” Metcalfe’s flute dances around Wachsmann’s dogged scrabble, with Karlsen’s clack and book filling out the sound. Tremblay lays an undulating canvas of electronic tones beneath it all, the pitch and intensity rising until Karlsen’s 16th note trills break through. Wachsmann’s jagged double stops complement Tremblay’s dancing oscillators, before the space clears for a dialogue of breathy flute and scratchy violin. “Shadow Figures Pt. 2” sounds like aliens playing early music, with flute and fluttering static over ritualistic bass drum. On IP shadows, violin and electronics sound like rainforest birds, while on “Refractions” the electronics fizz and pop next to bright percussion and pizzicato violin, before grimy oscillators have the last word.

A strong pair of albums built arond sensitive dialogue and vivid electroacoustic textures.