Daisuke Miyatani: Diario
Schole

Diario is arguably the most fitting title Daisuke Miyatani could have selected for his debut album, which first appeared on the German Ahomfelder label in 2007 and has now been reissued by Schole in a digitally remastered and expanded form. Its nineteen tracks, including four bonus pieces produced in 2018, play like tiny snapshots of everday life, innocent and relaxed musings where we hear acoustic guitar strums accompanied by birds chirping and other natural sounds. It also makes sense that Akira Kosemura would want to reissue the release on his own label, considering how well the recording's aesthetic aligns with Schole's own. From its 2007 inception, it's released material distinguished by humanity, musicality, and simplicity, and all such qualities apply to Diario also.

Field recordings figure prominently throughout the recording: the snippet “View” presumably references the location from which a passing train is being viewed; “Rain Melodies” sees fluttering six-string fragments plucked against a backdrop of drizzle and traffic noise; with insect thrum and bird chirps paired with acoustic guitar musings, “Summer Child” presents pastoral folk-ambient of the most quintessential kind. Sometimes the action moves indoors, as happens during “Niwa” and “Dokusho-Chu” where domestic noises of various kinds appear, the pages of a book being flipped through, for example; children are heard playing outdoors, on the other hand, during “Aiveo.”

Though real-world elements aren't present, “Edanone,” where glockenspiel tinkles and minimal acoustic guitar picking and strums are blanketed by hiss, proves equally representative of a release that favours lo-fi production values over slick studio-based perfection. Not everything's acoustic-oriented: whereas “Yu” and “Lindayo” feature guitar picking only, electronic tones ebb and flow softly through “Hum.” The new pieces form a satisfying complement to the earlier ones. Kosemura himself sprinkles delicate piano textures across a wavering ambient-drone base in “Brew”; those train sounds from “View” return in “Utouto,” though this time smothered in a synthetic radiance that makes the material sparkle.

With nineteen settings featured, the typical piece is short and very much snapshot-like, and consequently the fifty-three-minute release is best broached as a whole rather than separate parts. In this way, Diario begins even more clearly to assume the character of a diary, a gathering of isolated moments that cumulatively present a life portrait, even if one circumscribed by a specific time frame.

July 2018