2023-11-27 17:04:04
This Tesseract combines 6 surfaces over a total of 127 minutes to create a rich sound world: also on their second album If Not Now By 2020, neoclassical experimental artist Meredith Bates is looking for superlatives in volume to articulate her eclectic visions.
One always thinks there is a certain closeness to Bates, who lives in Vancouver (“Processed Violin, Voice, and Found Objects“) on the aesthetics of Godspeed You! Black Emperor to be able to make out.
Right if Disturbance as a noise assembly line looking for a wondrously shimmering ambience that sparkles and shimmers sinisterly and picturesquely. But even more so following the scratching, scraping noise of Constellation is a deconstructed orchestral abstraction regarding scorched earth, his violin rising above the desolate world in sad, lonely majesty – without really drifting into post-rock realms, while the string setting grows in emotional vulnerability and beauty beyond the mystical, abrasive sound sculpture, rusty Screws screws in the hypnotic indulgence of a strange, fairytale-like delirium, which, as a colorfully sprouting naturalism, actually goes beyond the dark optics of Tesseract seems to exist.
The fact that the silver lining on the horizon can sometimes simply be gray is also shown by the final continuum, in which circuits sizzle but cinematographically migrate from the abysmal fever dream score to salvation. Debris initially manipulates the electronic fields more actively as a contrast, but soon the wind blows through pinging, jumping tubes and observes a banter underwater. The beginning of a rhythmic groove is only apparently dissolved in the displeasure of industrial, as it ultimately quickly finds the aforementioned light at the end of the tunnel and wallows in a symphonic bathing, floating space splendor, in the melancholic landscape of something that has fallen out of time to land scores.
Everything doesn’t just represent a sequence of variables, but actually acts interestingly in an unconventional way according to compositional schemes, is coherent in its own form, yes, even entertaining.
As the second centerpiece, the title work soon mutates the elegance of a graceful horror into the abrasive discomfort of a chiselled suspense, into a mystical hustle and bustle with an oriental touch. As a quirky sparkle, when diving over the surface of the water into the stratosphere, sometimes clear, sometimes cloudy, never carefree, the station search turns into a calming meditation when warming up in the orchestra pit, the frequency is shifted pastorally.
But still before Tendrils as a terrarium in which everything crawls and flees, later working to allow one to breathe deeply following the feat of strength, the last few meters of the almost 47 minute title track develop from the nervous stressful situation to the climb to a plateau of inner peace, so pleasant and fulfilling. Temporal perception is just as undermined as analytical perception, the claim to original uniqueness is absorbed into a universal appeal: the tonal habitat created by Bates is, as a deep breeding ground for the subconscious, as much an abstract reflection as it is such a rich alternative to reality.
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