amoa hi cs367

É com músicos portugueses que o improvisador e inventor de «esculturas sonoras», como lhes chama, Marco Scarassatti assina o seu trabalho mais próximo da mística indígena do Brasil, e se “amoa hi” não reproduz propriamente a música dos índios do Amazonas, adopta o espírito desta de forma brilhante. Com um forte cariz imagético – poderia funcionar como a banda sonora de um filme etnográfico ou, melhor ainda, de ficção –, os seis temas (todos improvisações) reunidos não só têm como títulos expressões autóctones (exemplos são “ayokora”, “rõrõ konari” ou “remoremo moxi”) como nos induzem imagens da floresta profunda, “entregando-nos” as mesmas com uma aura de mistério e um carácter onírico que nos leva a querer parar tudo o que estamos a fazer para nos deixarmos transportar por este mundo acústico muito próprio.

Fica imediatamente claro que, se os nomes de Ernesto Rodrigues, Guilherme Rodrigues e Nuno Torres figuram ao lado do de Scarassati na bela capa (de Carlos Santos), este é, sobretudo, um disco do artista sediado em Belo Horizonte. As coordenadas derivam da tendência reducionista da improvisação, como esta dando primazia aos timbres e às texturas, mas a permanente agitação distingue a proposta de tudo aquilo que se fez sobre a bandeira do “near silence”. Em termos de filiação estética, terá mais que ver com as abordagens de um Hugh Davies, uma das referências maiores da criação musical com novos instrumentos, na associação deste com músicos que utilizavam instrumentos convencionais com técnicas extensivas e vocabulários alternativos. Mas tem algo mais que se lhe diga, e isso é, aqui, o essencial: uma espécie de neoprimitivismo que procura regressar à origem da organização dos sons para propor outro caminho que não o tomado pela música ocidental. Sublimes momentos vos esperam. Rui Eduardo Paes (Jazz.pt)

Após Rios Enclausurados e Rumor, Scarassatti lançou este ano Amoa Hi, também pelo selo português Creative Sources, também gravado em uma sessão de improviso, desta vez ao lado de Ernesto Rodrigues, Guilherme Rodrigues e Nuno Torres. Mais atmosférico e musicalmente direcionado do que os anteriores— percebemos de fato um conjunto de músicos construindo uma estrutura musical, com momentos e progressões — Amoa Hi é também mais diversificado na paleta de sons. Serialismo drone, em que cada linha se entrelaça com a outra, e assim por diante. Bernardo Oliveira (O Cafezinho)

Fort heureusement, Creative Sources publie des compacts insérés dans des pochettes cartonnées nettement plus plates et commodes à ranger que les anciens jewel-box plastiques cassables et moins esthétiques.
En effet, la production CS, au départ un micro label radical responsable du développement du réductionnisme, new silence, lower case et autres tendances expérimentales minimalistes (de tout acabit), est devenue exponentielle. Elle frise aujourd’hui les 400 numéros avec une quasi absence de personnalités « d’envergure » au point de vue de la notoriété. On note ici et là, une fois et par hasard, les noms de Paul Lovens et John Edwards avec Paul Hubweber. Un grand nombre des artistes du catalogue CS sont le plus souvent peu connus en dehors de la région où ils opèrent et une bonne partie des « minimalistes » qui avaient été publiés aux premières heures du label ne s’y manifestent plus. Aussi CS publie (toutes ?) les nombreuses sessions et des concerts d’Ernesto Rodrigues et de son fils Guilhermo en compagnie d’improvisateurs portugais et étrangers et quelques grands ensembles très cohérents sous sa direction qui réunissent un nombre impressionnant de musiciens portugais (Variable Geometry Orchestra, Ensemble IKB). Pour une ville comme Lisbonne, c’est remarquable vu les difficultés avec lesquelles se débattent les improvisateurs radicaux. Ses enregistrements ont souvent le bonheur d’illustrer ses tentatives réussies à improviser librement en suivant des démarches et cheminements diversifiés. En ce qui me concerne, Ernesto est devenu un des improvisateurs incontournables des années 2000 et suivantes avec Jacques Demierre, Urs Leimgruber, Rhodri Davies, Michel Doneda , Birgit Ulher etc…. parmi ceux qui apportent de l‘eau au moulin de la scène. Enregistré au plus près de l’émission du son, le groupe d’Amoa hi révèle les interstices, l’épiderme, les craquements, le souffle dans l’acte de jouer en dématérialisant la spécificité de l’instrument de musique. Chacun d’eux est devenu un générateur de sons, un objet sonique envisagé plutôt comme une sculpture sonore, pour en exposer les propriétés timbrales et texturales de leur mécanique vibratoire. La forme musicale qui s’échappe de leur pratique est essentiellement une expression bruitiste. Les valeurs harmoniques, pulsations et accents sont soigneusement évités. La tension du corps, des doigts ou de la bouche, en est fort relâchée et l’humeur et les intensions expressives qui affecte les sons dans le jeu instrumental sont neutres, indifférenciées. Plutôt qu’expression du corps des musiciens et de leurs émotions dans l’échange, l’improvisation se focalise sur la machinerie instrumentale comme si on en révélait la nature de ses composants : bois, vernis et crin (les Rodrigues), tube, anche et air (Torres) et la matière d’un curieux instrument fait maison (Scarassati). À suivre. Jean-Michel van Schouwburg (Orynx)

My discussion of Chant from a couple of weeks ago seems like a good starting point for a discussion of some recent releases from Ernesto Rodrigues & Creative Sources. The first album I want to mention especially is Amoa hi, recorded in Lisbon this past March by a quartet consisting of Ernesto & Guilherme Rodrigues (the latter also on pocket trumpet, in addition to his regular cello), frequent collaborator Nuno Torres on alto sax, and Marco Scarassatti (b.1971) on self-made instruments. The instrument (or instruments) is called the "kraiser" on the album, and whereas I wasn't able to determine exactly what that is, there is a Youtube (a site I do not suggest that you support) video of Scarassatti in a duo improvisation with a Marcelo Kraiser, and I assume that the sorts of objects they use are similar, perhaps identical. Scarassatti is a professor in Brazil, and "amoa hi" is the (mythical, if you will) "song tree" of the Yanomami (described elsewhere as "forest people") of Northwest Brazil. Whereas Chant includes explicit invocations of serial music & other contemporary "classical" techniques, Amoa hi is more generally evocative of an environmental setting & human activity. It's not an exploration of audibility, but there is a definite sense of emergent sound amidst a breathing-like pulse of tension & relaxation. In this case, what we might imagine as sounds of the forest are mediated more by distant human banging or traffic than by classical abstraction, and such "echoes" can mark a change of scene. The plucking & rubbing & such involved might suggest something of the "energized surfaces" of Gino Robair (such as on The Apophonics On Air, an album that comes off sounding much more like a standard sax trio in this context), and the overall texture & pace of the quartet remind me a bit of the Sandra Weiss Quintet on Ramble. In all three cases, I imagine that actually watching the performers would be illuminating, and the kraiser of Amoa hi does remain something of a mystery as it intersects with some of the more standard concerns of the Rodrigueses. (And I have watched people play some rather elaborately home-welded objects here in California, so might have some reasonable guesses as to what's involved.) Much of the mood, including a focus on strings, does seem rather similar to that of Chant, although here involving more the hustle of modern industrial life (at a distance) than an abstract literary pole. 26 October 2016. Todd McComb's Jazz Thoughts

The world of the American maverick composers and performers, including still controvertial figures such as Harry Partch, Henry Brant and Anthony Braxton, bears intergenerational fruit on this fascinating and beautiful quartet session. Marco Scarassatti's self-made instruments are placed in the service of Creative Sources stalwarts Ernesto and Guilherme Rodriguez along with Nuno Torres, wielding their standard viola, pocket trumpet and cello to create luscious but sparse soundscapes that traverse the no-man's land between Spontaneous Music Ensemble and much of what the Wandelweiser label releases.
Whatever the ethnic concerns that dictate the cryptic titles, these are pieces imbued with an unerring sense of continually changing soft-focus clarity. There's almost a guilty pleasure gained from luxuriating in the triadic opening of "Omama." It swells, looms larger than life but softly, addictively sweet yet foundationally rock-solid, only to prove ephemeral, fading into a post-Cagian silence that nearly erases the sonority from memory in anticipation of what follows. Superficially similar, the drones on "Remoremo Moxi" are shot through, beneath the tranquil surface, with pointillistic clangs, scratches and metallic twangings, suggesting the kinds of wire-and-bar configuration of the instrument Scarassatti is playing on this extraordinary improvisation; but the piece is important for another and deeper reason: part of the way through, the vastly reverberant space the quartet is creating fades to near black, and suddenly, especially on headphones, the room in which the recording is actually taking place swims into sharp focus. The space is not small but not overly large, but it's completely different than the picture painted by the various instrumental configurations would imply.
Repeated listening reveals a constantly shifting world of minute changes amidst a background of quasi-discomfort similar to that in Faure's Requiem. The experience of inhabiting these six diverse planes of sound is both disembodying and somehow disquieting. Pitch becomes a matter of as much relativity as timbre and duration, while the surface timbres shift with the softness of butter, and what transpires beneath can take on the strength of steel or the durability of stone. The quartet doesn't reveal its secrets easily, but once glimpsed, they are not soon forgotten. Marc Medwin (The Squid’s Ear)

Titled for the Amazonas Indians, Brazilian sound sculptor Marco Scarassatti performs on his self-made instrument the Kraiser in a quartet with Creative Sources regulars Ernesto Rodrigues, Guilherme Rodrigues, and Nuno Torres for a dream-like set of improvisations named with indigenous expressions, blending neoprimitivism with creative acoustic improvisation. (Squidco)