fadensonnen |cs148

Membre de la troupe de théâtre Sisifo Seduto, Giampaolo Verga est né en 1966, a étudié la composition et la musique électronique au Conservatoire de Milan. “Fadensonnen” regroupe sept pièces où soutenue par l’électronique, agit une musique qui nous semble être d’inspiration métaphysique. Travail sur le timbre, la dynamique et la spatialisation. Aride, nuancé, singulier et somme toute psychédélique. Une heureuse découverte. Jerome Noetinger (Metamkine)

Ghostly pieces with sacred overtones for electronics, violin and voice. More of a spiritual tinge than I'm comfortable with, but carefully done, very serene with rougher undertones. Think variations on the quieter moments in George Crumb works like "Voice of the Whale", until the final two noisier tracks. Not bad. Brian Olewnick (Just Outside)

Der Mailänder GIAMPAOLO VERGA spinnt Fadensonnen (cs 148) als Feldmaneskes Gespinst. Ganz und gar dröhnminimalistisch umspielt er zwei Gedichte, Hölderlins ‚Gestalt und Geist‘ und ‚(Ich kann dich noch sehn ein Echo, ertastbar mit Fühlwörtern,) Am Abschiedsgrat‘ von Paul Celan. Elektronisch, mit Geige und Stimme, oder gemischt zu elektronischen Drones, so dünn wie der Geist einer Geige, dabei auch gläsern schillernd und scharf, doch zerbrechlich. Die Stimme ist dabei nur ein ätherisches Raunen und Hauchen, der Geigenton ein bebender Schwebklang. Alles ist innig, entzieht sich dem Licht, den Fingern, der Erinnerung, verweht als Echo und Schatten. Auch Hölderlins ‚Geist‘ wird dabei zum Gespenst. ‚Limbisch, limbisch‘ nimmt ebenfalls Bezug auf Celan und schockiert durch eine elektronisch verzerrte Stimme, die schrill ächzende, explosive Laute kirrt. Jeder Schrei beißt zu wie ein folternder Stromstoß und geht einem durch Mark und Bein. Rigobert Dittmann (Bad Alchemy)

The almost hymnal feel to some of Giampaolo Verga's more serene passages for violin and voice, and their combination with the shrill tininess and bristling static of the electronics often has the effect of making one think that he has discovered a time-warp linking some deserted church to a contemporary urban studio. In these places, the pieces aspire to sensitivity and restraint; but they are far from being neat and to the point. A static energy seems to fizz below them, betraying a fiery spontaneity that surfaces now and again in various ways, from violent discontinuities to dimension-stretching motions, which distort the familiar and carouse with the irrational.
The first track begins with a warped violin theme, accompanied by bell-like electronics and skewed percussion that seems to roll like a dial across the radio spectrum, which gradually revs up to a bit of music theatre, depicting an exuberant, and somewhat strenuous, acoustic/electronic quarrel.
In the later stages of the disc, the electronics are used to time-stretch Verga's voice into tense strands of energy that explode into some strange knockings of a big-end variety, but mostly they accentuate or act as bridges between melodic ideas. The real challenge — and pleasure — of most moments, then, is how Verga squares the microscopic gestures with the melodic forms presented here. These elements are generally successful in maintaining a sonic continuum, slightly broody and contained. Only in the mid-section does atmosphere get placed unduly above musical material. Max Schaefer (The Squid's Ear)

Giampaolo Verga - an Italian composer who is also actively involved in the encouragement of artistic creativity during the recovery processes of psychically disadvantaged persons – seems to be genuinely aware of the value of silence. With violin, voice and electronics he reveals what his mind is made of, meditating with semi-closed eyes at the farthest fringes of audibility, utilizing indistinct radiations, feeble reverberations and also acute frequencies to concoct electroacoustic settings that seize our concentration, often veritably enthralling in their mixture of profundity and legitimacy.
The rarefaction of the materials, the whispered straining of the sources, the timorous comparison between voices that we imagine deriving from lamenting ghosts and elongated percolations of frail instrumental sketches are just blurred suggestions of the essential traits of something that’s both unmistakably perceptible and manifestly indefinable, glimpses of silent commitment looking for liquids in serious acousmatic drought. With my windows open in a peaceful afternoon, remote urban presences and ever-singing birds making themselves heard from long distance, Fadensonnen sounds just perfect, at least until the sudden breakup of the final “Limbisch, Limbisch”, a startling – but not less interesting - departure from the general subject.
As opposed to certain Mediterranean tormentors who would like us to walk through interminable corridors of vacuous blessedness hiding bestial deficiency, this man discloses the hand and shows a few coins in the palm. It’s all he has, yet those little riches command respect, and could constitute the opening deposit for a future of insightful observations and, hopefully, significant intuitions. Massimo Ricci (Brain Dead Eternity)

Kolejny w?oski wykonawca. Czasem zastanawiam si? na ile jest prawd? do?? stereotypowe stwierdzenie, ?e w ka?dym W?ochu drzemie sk?onno?? do "canzone" czyli czasem wr?cz zgo?a biesiadnego podej?cia do piosenek czy utworów, które przekazuj? jak?? manieryczn? form? romantyzmu, czasem do?? ?miesznie wyra?onej.
Verga jest gdzie? blisko jakiego? rodzaju hymnom, skromne instrumentarium sprzyja jednocze?nie pewnemu statycznemu podej?ciu do wykorzystania g?osu i skrzypiec podpartego elektronik?.Najlepiej wypada pocz?tek i koniec albumu, gdzie idealnie po??czy? prawie melodyczne podej?cie do instrumentu z odpowiednia dramaturgi? eksperymentu. Sporo wyczucia i oby tak dalej. Astipalea Records (Felthat Reviews)