Chelonoidis nigra cs345

Grand orchestre d’improvisation libre, IKB (pour Ives Klein Blue, la pochette de la même couleur avec une tortue dorée, Chelonoidis Nigra) est un modèle du genre. Basée sur les drones aléatoires, les techniques alternatives, le flottement des sons et leur empathie, une recherche de timbres rares avec des particularités des instruments souvent détournés de leur fonction première, IKB rassemble des improvisateurs d’horizon divers qui se focalisent dans une action instrumentale minimaliste et des combinaisons imprévisibles de sonorités trouvées dans l’instant, parfois fort éloignées de ce pourquoi les instruments utilisés sont conçus. Les sonorités acoustiques évoquent une musique électronique, des bruissements de machine, d’objets, des sifflements, ronflements, sons tenus et en suspension dans l’espace, frottements etc… joués avec une lenteur et une douceur caractérisées. En fait, il est presque quasiment impossible de désigner les instruments d’origine des sons entendus. Percussions frottées ou grincées, objets sur les cordes de la guitare d’Abdul Moi-Même, sifflements infimes du saxophone ou de la flûte, souffle au trombone ou à la clarinette, cordes du piano, vibration improbable de la contrebasse, tapotements de la percussion, grincements, passage neutre du crin de l’archet sur la corde… mystère quasi monochrome, …. Des sons naissent du silence, se transforment, s’agrègent, meurent, surgissent, tremblent… S’il est quasi impossible de dire qui joue, il est encore moins facile de deviner combien sont en train de jouer. On a parfois l’impression qu’ils sont trois ou quatre et qu’ils se relaient fréquemment tout en maintenant une réelle continuité tout en diversifiant les sons avec autant d’homogénéité que de variété. Ce n’est pas le premier album d’IKB et celui-ci est tout aussi satisfaisant que le précédent que j’avais chroniqué il y a quelques années (IKB : Dracaena Draco CS 294 CD double), si ce n’est que la couleur bleue IKB du présent album Chelonoidis Nigra est encore plus intense. La musique aussi. Une réussite éminemment collective! Jean-Michel van Schouwburg (Orynx)

The IKB ensemble – named for the International Klein Blue that adorns the album art of each release – is the sweetspot of Rodrigues’ musical world, as far as I’m concerned. It checks all the boxes: quiet, considered improvisation, but with a bit more lively interaction; a group large enough to pique interest, but not to drown out detailed dialogue; a cast of long-time, dedicated collaborators; an established aesthetic that continues to pay dividends; and a strong emphasis on performance tailored to the unique acoustics of each venue.

Chelonoidis Nigra is the fifth IKB album, recorded live at the end of November 2015 with a 16-piece ensemble. It’s quiet music that you want to experience loudly; it often feels as though, if you could only get a little closer to the sound, whole new levels of activity would be revealed, bustling just beyond earshot. A large group playing quiet music subverts expectations, but there’s a big benefit: low volume forces musicians to listen more closely. Musicians become more invested in a collective sound, shaping one giant sonic event, rather than trading in sixteen competing ones.

Ernesto and I have talked about the fluidity even in his “fixed” groups. Often the logistics of getting musicians together results in fluctuations in size and membership, IKB being no exception. But in many ways, this also benefits the music: it shifts the focus away from personalities and onto the music alone. An underlying concept or matured aesthetic is retained across performances, and so a group can become just the sound: IKB is one species among many. In its approach, an antidote emerges to the negative “excess of expression” Rui Eduardo Paes often hears in improvised music. In the liner notes to Sudden Music, one of Rodrigues’ earliest records, he writes that “the music that we listen to here is ‘sudden’ because it emerges as if by miracle from a surface that we thought neutral (silence) to disappear at once, as if it had never existed.” In the measured investigations of Chelonoidis Nigra, the silence gives, and the silence takes away. Dan Sorrells (The Free Jazz Collective)

São também dois os álbuns saídos recentemente do projecto IKB (iniciais de Ives Klein Blue), “Ornithorhynchus Anatinus” e “Chelonoidis Nigra”. A primeira diferença relativamente à VGO está no menor número de participantes, 16 em ambos, se bem que com algumas alterações de nomes e de instrumentação. Há outras, destacando-se o propósito de que os instrumentos acústicos sejam tocados como se fossem electrónicos, por meio de uma sistemática utilização de técnicas extensivas e até de recursos próprios da electroacústica, como a manutenção de “drones”. Há um ainda maior minimalismo na geração de materiais, conduzindo à articulação de transparências, com o silêncio a ganhar propriedades musicais. Ouvimos os sons nascerem, viverem e morrerem com um pormenor assombroso, mesmo que, de novo, seja difícil discernir a sua origem. Rui Eduardo Paes (Jazz.pt)

Ernesto Rodrigues leads a 16 piece orchestra of strings, reeds, winds, voice, brass, accordion, electric guitar, electronics and percussion through the elaborately restrained work "Chelodnis Nigra", rewarding the careful listener with fascinating layers of sound. (Squidco)