Markus Guentner: Empire
A Strangely Isolated Place

There's a programmatic dimension to Markus Guentner's Empire that, being wholly instrumental, one can choose to attend to or ignore. Certainly the effectiveness of this follow-up to 2015's Theia won't be significantly diminished for anyone choosing the latter; on purely sonic terms, the material holds up perfectly well stripped of its conceptual aspect. For the record, Theia has to do with the known galaxy's creation and the subsequent emergence of the human species; Empire continues the saga in focusing on the connecting, mystifying forces and interactions between the Earth and the Universe.

What is considerably more pertinent, insofar as the impression made by the music is concerned, is that four pieces are solo Guentner productions and three collaborations, each distinguished by the involvement of a separate artist: cellist Julia Kent, harpist Tom Moth, and bvdub (Brock Van Wey). What makes that especially significant is that as credible as the solo pieces are, they're overshadowed by the others, so much so that it's hard not to hear the latter group as distinct from the other. The three are so strong, in fact, they suggest Guentner might be wise to consider producing at some future point an album featuring nothing but collaborations.

As an ambient soundscaper, Guentner's gifts have been evident since he first appeared on Kompakt, be it his 2001 album In Moll or the label's annual Pop Ambient collections (an unbroken string of Guentner contributions extended from the first installment in 2001 to the eighth, seven years later). That's a roundabout way of saying that Empire's solo tracks aren't without impact. “Offworld” inaugurates the album with a slow-burning exercise in dark ambient, Guentner shaping the sound materials to create a churning Black Hole of vast, elemental force. The chilly rumble in “Fura” that suggests primal forces birthing new planets would sound right at home on any number of Glacial Movements releases; the album-closing “New World Order” brings its own kind of chill to the proceedings, a sleek, industrial austerity whose sinister tone suggests dark days ahead.

It's the collaborations that are most memorable, however. Kent's very much at the forefront of “Refraction,” which sees her draping layers of cello across a crackling base. Multi-tracked, the string instrument assumes the character of a full orchestra section, though mournful lines by solo cello also surface during the piece's stirring ebb-and-flow. The haunting “Kuria” is elevated by stately piano melodies that, in terms of their emotional effect, have bvdub fingerprints all over them; the pièce de résistance, however, is “Halo,” wherein Moth, Florence and the Machine's harpist, radiates Guentner's undercurrent with sparkling strums for nine wholly entrancing minutes.

Digging into the release is recommended, and for those who wish to do so vinyl might be the format of choice, considering A Strangely Isolated Place has presented the disc in a striking orange-and-black combination.

July 2018