Mathieu Lamontagne: Obsolescence Programmée
Polar Seas Recordings
Mikael Lind: Strings and Clusters
Polar Seas Recordings
These complementary releases from the Toronto-based Polar Seas label come at ambient music from different though not wholly unrelated angles, Lind's a bold neoclassical set that merges strings and electronics and Mathieu's an excursion into abstract ambient realms.
A Reykjavik-based producer with releases on Morr Music and Time Released Sound under his belt, Lind initiated his Strings and Clusters project by recording Karl James Pestka (violin, viola) and Sigurður Halldórsson (cello) at The Iceland University of Arts. With that material in hand, Lind then determined what might be better left in its naked form and what might lend itself to transformation using electronic means. What's presented on Strings and Clusters, however, never groups itself starkly into one of two camps; rather, as a representative track such as “Disordered Mechanism” amply illustrates, sounds indissolubly merge on the recording with electronic elements and string phrases blending like liquids in a shared container. Enhancing the musical impression is a visual presentation that shows distressed and distorted images of ships surrounded by icy waters; such imagery reinforces the woozy ambiance of the recording and, for those familiar with the novel and television series, suggests a connecting line to Dan Simmons's The Terror. Titles such as “Shapeshifting Clouds” and “Frozen Waves” aptly capture the slow, dreamlike trajectory of a recording where raw, granular textures sit side-by-side with hazy washes and string phrases. Though the musical terrain is at times unsettling, doom-laden even, it's also as often soothing, Lind demonstrating in many a passage a strong affinity for plaintive moodscaping and romantic, baroque-styled string sonorities. Never is his material more affecting than during “How Things Disperse and Combine,” essentially an extended opportunity for Halldórsson's cello to be heard in all its sweetly mournful glory.
Obsolescence Programmée is a different animal altogether. Lamontagne, whose recordings have appeared on Unknown Tone, Twice Removed, and Audio Gourmet and who also records under the arbee name, has fashioned six ambient-electronic pieces apparently designed to wryly reflect on consumer consumption and environmental irresponsibility—not that you'd necessarily glean such ideas from the purely instrumental presentation on offer. No matter: Lamontagne's constructions are riveting regardless of the thematic intent. In fact, the notion of obsolescence, of things created with their demise built-in, would seem to apply more convincingly to the aforementioned societal matters than to the musical pieces, which seem largely disease-free and capable of functioning healthily for any foreseeable duration beyond their tenure here. Quiet, understated, and resonant, these creations wend their leisurely way through peaceful, texturally rich landscapes speckled with fragmented melodies and an abundance of glimmering, alien noises. An outdoors field recording or two is occasionally folded in to add an extra evocative dimension to the proceedings and make the ambient journey even more vivid, and while things do take a dark, industrial-ambient turn in “Il est lourd,” for the most part no one's nerves should be permanently frayed by exposure to Obsolescence Programmée. Listeners with a jones for Popl Vuh-like mysticism and dark ambient in general would likely find themselves well-charmed by much of it.December 2018