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d is for din |cs046
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The only solo CD here this time is by Tisha Mukarji, who plays 'square piano frame' - that is the inside of the piano where all the wires are. He (she?) rubs, scratches, hits, uses bows etc to play the four pieces presented on this CD. It's nice enough sound material, but it's mostly material for further use (for instance by Esther Venrooy, see elsewhere, or Asmus Tietchens). Perhaps to see all of this being made in a concert situation would be thrilling, but on disc it sounds rather ok. Nice enough, and plenty of raw material to be used. Frans de Waard (Vital) Another new name, Tisha Mukarji (I’m guessing female, but I’m not sure) plays “square piano frame” on this solo release. It’s entirely acoustic and the catalog of sounds produced is impressive right from the get-go, a small avalanche of rapid, high string plucks and the clatter of, I think, various objects rolled or otherwise jostled around the frame’s interior. But almost as quickly as one processes the novelty of the sounds, one is left wanting to hear much more in the nature of ideas and general conception. I was growing severely antsy long before the first cut’s abrupt cut-off after almost 18 minutes. The second track, “Brush Piece (Jagged)”, works much better; it sounds as though a bow is being deployed in addition to brushes, but whatever the case, a convincing, detailed soundscape is produced by simply remaining in a distinct area and taking the time to hear and appreciate what’s there, though even here she drags things on for a few minutes longer than necessary. “Screech” has the joint virtues of comporting with its title and brevity while “Whispers” is effectively dark and brooding, not unlike the brush piece but, happily, of excellent length. Caveat emptor. Brian Olewnick (Bagatellen) "D
is for Din" jest zdaje sie debiutancka plyta Tishy Mukarji, hinduskiej
pianistki mieszkajacej w Europie, bodajze we Francji. Sporo tu znaków
zapytania, ale tez Mukarji, bedaca dopiero na poczatku swej muzycznej
drogi, nie jest jeszcze osoba szeroko znana i liczba informacji na jej
temat jest znikoma. Wiadomo, ze jest klasycznie wyksztalcona pianistka,
która zarzucila - byc moze na dluzej, a moze tylko na chwile -
muzyke powazna oraz konwencjonalne podejscie do instrumentu na rzecz improwizacji
i preparowania dzwieku. […] Não é outra coisa o que faz Tisha Mukarji, tal como está documentado em “D Is For Din”. A harpa de um piano vertical (sem o piano) serve-lhe para um labor de manipulação das cordas em que a produção de “feedbacks” é recorrente, parecendo que há a intervenção de algum processador quando tal não se verifica. […] Rui Eduardo Paes (JL) Recorded at Copenhagen Royal Art Academy last April, "D is for Din" is a solo piano improvisation, but don't expect anything even remotely close to typical piano notes. Judging from the sounds he utters, Mukarji plays a square piano frame directly on the chords, with his fingers and, my guess, a variety of objects like e-bows, brushes etc. Depending on your preferences in terms of concrete sounds, there could obviously be exhilarating passages and less interesting ones, but the continuous scraping and screeching of the chords is vigorous and detailed enough to keep you captivated throughout. One of the best releases in the new Creative Sources overflow. Eugenio Maggi (Chain DLK) "All sounds are acoustic" writes Mukarji, who plays a 1850 square piano frame, of all things. Not that I had any doubts: this music sounds like a mixture of Organum, Z'ev and Alfred Hitchcock's birds doing seesaw exercises dangerously near to a rusty chainsaw. Tisha uses wood and strings like nuclear weapons, eliciting powerful contrasts of harmonics with often unbearable intensity, nails-on-the-chalkboard style, but she's also capable of some finesse: listen to "Brush piece (jagged)" or "Whispers" to get more acquainted to her ghosts of pseudo-calmness. For sure, "D is for Din" is quite atypical in reference to the operational formications and the scratching of silence that Creative Sources usually presents; this album sails through the perilous waters of uneducated sound with efficient belligerency, demounting our suspicion through its sheer, raw resonant power, finally leaving us enabled to appreciate this unsettling jargon made of glass splinters and swashing metallic waves. Massimo Ricci (Touching Extremes) My mum would probably disagree, but from where I'm sitting there's not much din on this debut outing from pianist Tisha Mukarji, here performing on a Hornung Square Piano Frame dating from the mid-19th century. All right, there are some pretty ferocious scrapes and squeaks, but those of you who equate "din" with the likes of Sickness, Prurient et al. will probably find this rather mild. Mukarji studied at the Royal Academy in London (bet they didn't teach her to play like this there though), and recorded these four pieces in April 2005 in another Royal Academy across the pond in Copenhagen. Recent years have seen a number of impressive releases proving there's plenty of life yet lurking in the bowels of the venerable instrument, both solo – Frédéric Blondy's Parabase, Sophie Agnel's Solo, Jacques Demierre's Guillevic Avec, Andrea Neumann's Innenklavier, and of course the recent long overdue solo debut of John Tilbury on Rossbin – and in small groups (thinking notably of Manon Liu Winter's glacial work on Brospa with Franz Hautzinger), and Mukarji's disc is another accomplished, if not especially groundbreaking, addition to the list. Dan Warburton (Paris Transatlantic) Tisha Mukarji plays “square piano frame” on D is for Din (CS 046). Upon reading this I thought immediately of Andrea Neumann’s innenklavier, the disgorged guts of the piano. I’m not precisely sure which components are preserved in Mukarji’s work but the sound is fairly provocative. You can hear some insectoid notes that sound like distant Cecil Taylor crossed with Nancarrow. But there are also delicious electric-sounding crackles, clacking percussive noises, groaning bowed sounds, and so forth. She’s got a sense for dynamics, which is a happy thing (given the tendency of so many improvisers to fill up all available space), and she paces her improvisations quite well (especially so on the long title track). Sonic images come frequently: hissing buzzes from the hive float into the sky or things scuttle beneath the floorboards. The only problem is that Mukarji uses the same approaches and techniques a bit too frequently, and—aside from the droning “Brush Piece (jagged)”—there is an awful lot of metal being rubbed together. Still, a provocative disc by an interesting musician. Jason Bivins (One Final Note) |