materials |cs164

Releases like this make me think about what I like or dislike about instruments. The accordion for instance, the instrument of Jonas Kocher. I never heard of this Swiss player who has worked with Urs Leimgruber, Michel Doneda, Thomas Lehn, Harold Schellinkx and many more. Here he has a CD of his solo work for accordion and I am pleasantly surprised. That has hardly to do with wether I like or dislike the instrument. It never sounds anywhere like an accordion, which is an instrument not used a lot in this particular world (well, besides Pauline Oliveros). Kocher plays the instrument like an object that makes sound. He rubs it, plays it with a bow, thus creating ringing overtones and in 'buttons, electronics' (titles refer to objects or parts used of the accordion), things buzz around, shaking the bass ground. All in a highly improvised manner of course, but Kocher controls his instrument in a great way, but always the way he creates sounds with them. An excellent CD of partly improvised music, and partly drone based music. This musician is certainly open to keep an ear open for with future improvisations. Franz de Waart ( Vital Weekly)

Stunning solo debut by Swiss accordionist & electronics player who was new to me. Simon Reynell (another timbre)

[...] Eine sparsame sehr kontrollierte Erforschung der Klänge und ihrer Nachwirkung, die trotz oder gerade wegen ihres Reduktionismus volle mAufmerksamkeit und Hingabe verlangt. Ein radikales Statment in unserer geschäftigen Gegenwart der Dampfhammer-Beats. Jürg Solothurnmann (Jazz n'more)

Accordion, object, electronics. Accordion in the Costa Monteiro tradition, that is. The titles indicate the mode of attack, listing the primary weapons, whether bow, buttons, cymbal, electronics or steel wool. Kocher succeeds when his approach is violent as well as when it's soft and considered. The array of colors is large and well-chosen, each of the seven pieces displaying a different angle, a thoughtful appreciation. Good recording-the best extreme accordion I've heard in a while. Brian Olewnick (Just Outside)

A short (35 minutes), meticulous CD recorded at STEIM, the perfect place to develop strange instruments and interfaces or microscopic recording techniques. Jonas Kocher presents seven short solo pieces with titles that list the materials used to make them. For instance, “Bellow, bow” announces the bellow of an accordion and a bow (played on what, I’m not sure). In the course of the album, we also encounter buttons, a cymbal, steel wool, and very quiet electronics. You have to turn up the volume, ignore extraneous sounds, and attune your ears to Kocher’s lilliputian soundworld. His universe is not feature-rich, but it includes intriguing textures, even though they are not all as unheard-of as they would have been ten or fifteen years ago. His minimalist stance is not too alienating, and his use of the accordion’s bellow, though limited by design, is quite interesting. François Couture (Monsieur Délire)

Ein Beispiel dafür, wie sich der Sound der Gegenwart zugunsten neuer Horizonte von seiner Herkunft entfernt, liefert der Schweizer Akkordeonist Jonas Kocher. Der sogenannte, als ewig gültig propagierte, also streng gesehen reaktionäre Wert der Authentizität geht sohin endlich, wenn auch Naturgemäss nur schrittweise seinem Untergang entgegen. Kocher generiert, aufgenommen am Amsterdamer STEIM, aus seiner Quetschen die kuriosesten bis grotesken Klänge, allerdings nicht zum kuriosen bis grotesken Selbstzweck, sondern zur autonomen Erweiterung respektive zur Emanzipation des Instruments von seinem klassischen, traditionellen, melodisch-volksmusikalischen Zwängen. Keine geringe Leistung, berücksichtigt man Vergleiche mit (dem supersympathischen) Otto Lechner und Umgebung, deren erweiterung des traditionellen Klangspektrum allein in der Virtuosität und der Genre-Verlagerung fundiert ist. Abgesehen freilich von deren unzweifelhafter Distanzierung völkischer Denkweisen.
Bei Jonas Kocher - wie auch etwas bei Ute Völker - korreliert die avancierte Form noch radikaler mit dem Inhalt und arbeitet ausschliesslich mit dem Instrument als Material und endgültig nicht mehr als Sinnstifter für populistischen oder sonstigen Schmarrn. Eine Entdeckung! Felix (freiStil)

Jonas Kocher has played out and about quite a bit, with many other folks like Christian Wolfarth, Michel Doneda and Peter Evans. While his web site lists him as playing electronics in many of the ensembles, on this recording he wields an accordion, very deftly, in a number of odd ways. I am unaware of anyone else using "extended techniques" on the ol' squeezebox (sorry Jonas), so the object at hand may be fairly unique. All of the pieces are named with their material — "Bellow, Bow", "Buttons" etc. — and this gives us clues as to what actions we may be listening to. But only just so. We hear frictions, percussions, high-pitched whines and breathy sounds, arranged in interesting ways, with generally slowly evolving forms; very rarely does it sound like an accordion. "Buttons, Bellow" is alternately humorous and frightening, with pops, air and clipped low notes. It sounds like more than one person playing. "Bellow, Steel Wool" has some crackle amid its frictions, and "Electronics" is glitchy at first, then erupts again and again with noisy explosions, including some bits of voice. I only wish that this recording was a bit longer. I guess that's what repeat buttons are for. Jeph Jerman (The Squid’s Ear)

Une prise de son très rapprochée nous met dans les secrets de la grosse poche à soufflets. Les anches rentrent peu à peu dans le jeu, sous forme de notes filées, répétées mais jamais égales, la boîte continue de les accompagner de souffles. Des couches apparaissent fragmentairement, l'ambitus s'élargit, les vibrations s'accroissent, on descend vers les graves. Tout cela se dégage d'un silence qui revient sans cesse. Le cinquième morceau passe à l'électronique, le sixième revient à l'accordéon avec de longues nappes lourdes. Le septième s'articule à un son filé ininterrompu.
Cette musique est d'une grande simplicité, grande lenteur, elle se tient à rien et elle se tient. Il s'agit de ne rien faire qui puisse briser le fil que tisse cet infime, et la justesse de ton de Kocher, sa manière de conduire la musique et de construire avec du rien un disque qui est une œuvre sont impressionnants Aucune fascination ni totemisation de l'instrument qui permet, avec quelques éléments simples, de faire un acte de musique. Noël Tachet (Impro-Jazz)

Les bretelles solidement accrochées à de nombreux folklores, l'accordéon est injustement dédaigné par les pratiques expérimentales ou improvisées. Bien sûr, les travaux de Pauline Oliveros, Howard Skempton ou Guy Klucevsek semblent contredire cette sentence mais, une fois la vitrine dépassée, le paysage est plutôt désertique. C'est donc avec une curiosité toute particulière que l'on aborde ve disque de Jonas Kocher qui ausculte de très près l'instrument maudit et le confronte, à l'occasion, à d'autres objets. De manière non anodine, Kocher a fait ses classes auprès de Teodoro Anzellotti, lequel a largement contribué à (ré)introduire l'accordéon l'accordéon dans le répertoire contemporain, de Cage à Kagel, en passant par Berio qui lui a dédié sa XIIIème Sequenza. Outre les techniques instrumentales étendues, Kocher a également développé, à travers son travail de composition pour le théâtre et la radio, un goût pour la narration et la mise en espace.
Ces différents éléments s'imbriquent superbement le long de cette suite d'improvisations, premier opus solo du Suisse et incontestable coup de maître. Sur chaque titre, les 'matériaux' employés sont simplement énumérés: soufflet, boutons, archet, cymbale, laine de verre ou électronique. Il s'agit le plus souvent d'une combinaison de deux d'entre eux qui est explorée, avec la froideur de détermination mais aussi l'empathie du geste clinique. On entame ce périple au coeur d'une alvéole pulmonaire dont les contractions arythmiques révèlent une insuffisance respiratoire, souffle rauque et intime qui ménage sa survie. Le crin s'accroche au soufflet, dérape en grincements lugubres avant que des fréquences suraiguës ne prennent le relais.
On imagine, sans doute à tort, des doigts, crispés jusqu'au sang, extirper le dernier soubresaut d'une machine autrement inanimée. Le tranchant de la dissection n'entame pas pour autant la dramaturgie de l'instrument. Sur al fin de 'Bow, Cymbal, Buttons' notamment, l'accordéon s'essouffle avec gravité et se noie dans des strates ronflantes et somptueuses qui, sans le moindre support électronique, pénètrent les terres de Phill Niblock. Sur 'Electronics', au contraire, on pense davantage au bruitisme dynamique et ciselé de John Wiese (celui de Cicle Snare) tandis qu'un autre titre plongera vers les racines de la musique concrète.
Une richesse de palette stupéfiante, un contrôle absolu et un très beau sens de la progression (la suite s'achève à des années lumière d'où elle avait commencé) font de ce disque rien moins qu'un chef d'oeuvre inespéré de l'improvisation électroacoustique actuelle qui, en dépit de la noirceur dont il s'enveloppe, mérite toute la lumière. Jean-Claude Gevrex (Revue & Corrigée)

A rather frigid but serviceable album for accordion, objects and electronics. Once again I have to praise the choice of keeping things short at 35 minutes, probably the ideal duration nowadays for this type of release. The components are distinct and clearly identifiable; the accordion’s toneless ebb and flow in the initial “Bellow, Bow” might dangerously recall a hundred thousand humid currents heard in similar territories, especially by reed players; luckily for us, Kocher has other cards to play. He employs the percussive clacking of the buttons, elicits ear-piercing upper partials by bowing cymbals, produces hyper-acute pitches gathering them in static clusters and manages to explore the low-drone region in “Buttons”. In any case, these are not easily classifiable pieces; more than reasoning about a classic “composition/improvisation” dichotomy, one tends to consider Materials as a series of pithy experiments – some achieving the aim, others much less successful – carried out with the intent of observing known instruments from different angles. A sense of rational accuracy is detectable, the method absolutely comprehensible. The sonic outcome is not exactly shocking, yet we will always prefer clearness in meagerness as opposed to the misleading presumptions of higher implications. Massimo Ricci (Touching Extremes)

For an instrument that’s been around since 1822, when German instrument maker Christian Buschmann added expanding bellows and free vibrating reeds to a small portable keyboard – or if you prefer 3000 B.C when the Chinese cheng initially used the vibrating reeds principle for music –– the accordion has taken a long time to adapt to reductionist, experimental music.
With these solo sessions, however Swiss accordionist Jonas Kocher appears determined to do for the bellows, buttons, and playing surface what fellow sound explorers such as, British saxophonist John Butcher and German trumpeter Axel Dörner have done with their respective instruments: create a role for it in experimental music. In the past Kocher, who also composes for radio dramas and creates installation pieces, has brought his squeeze-box refocusing to situations involving among others, French saxophonist Michel Doneda and Swiss pianist Jacques Demierre. But Solo and Materials are unaccompanied sessions. Alone except for objects and electronics, Kocher’s allows his instrument’s timbres and textures to create a unique sound picture rather than formally replicating melodies or tones in the narrative tradition. The allure of these CDs is to hear how original statements are created.
For instance, Solo’s single track, percolates along for almost seven minutes before anything resembling a standard accordion tone is audible. Before that the interface is divided between flat line whispers more felt than heard, and solid, stentorian snarls that vibrate with the depth and power of a baritone saxophone. Notwithstanding these timbres reconstituted into staccato peeps, percussive pumps and signal-processed peals, the exposition moves chromatically, yet with enough granular synthesis to signal dissonance.
Following passages of widening glissandi that could be the replication of a fat man’s heavy breathing, blunt smacks, paper-tearing textures and high-pitched squeals move the narrative into its final phase. Simultaneously shrill flat whistles, guttural glissandi and nephritic drones with the consistency of a bass saxophone are heard. The irregularly vibrated, gravelly climax is so visceral that the image of bellows being stretched to their maximum is almost visible.
Experimentation is more obvious on the brief – barely 35 minutes – other CD. With the apparatus used itemized on each of the seven tracks, the materials involve not so much the demystification and deconstruction of particular sounds, but literal dismemberment of the accordion. “Bellows, Steel Wool” for example is a friction-layered suite where electronic-styled oscillations and crackles underscore the vibrations produced by constantly rubbing one unyielding object against another. On the other hand a track such as “Buttons” is practically an intermezzo. Here accordion buttons are persistently depressed until the subterranean pitches swell from faint quivers to loud pulses and divide enough to allow agitated basso lines to rumble in the foreground, complemented and decorated by quieter pressures. There are other interludes in which the electronic-add-ons not only serve to reorient the accordion’s acoustic tones by exposing sine-wave-like pitches and hissing static alongside them, but also source snatches of radio broadcasts to further muddle and confound conventional sound reproduction.
Not for everyone, especially those whose concept of the squeeze box is linked to Lawrence Welk or even Jazzer Art Van Damme, both CDs offer a modernist and distinctive version of accordion improvisation. Ken Waxman (JazzWord)