Buscar:anton bruhin

Black Truffle is delighted to offer up a rare serving of unheard works by legendary Swiss artist Anton Bruhin. Active as a visual artist, poet, and musician since the 1960s, Bruhin has created important work in forms as varied as concrete poetry and landscape painting, imbuing everything he does with wit, humility, and absurdist humour. A recognised master of the jew’s harp (or Trümpi, as this ancient folk instrument is known in Swiss German), Bruhin’s sound work also encompasses tape collage, sound poetry, and manipulated bird song. On Speech Poems/Fruity Music we are treated to 26 short pieces made between 2006 and 2008 using the audio software Fruity Loops. These pieces carry on Bruhin’s long-running project of exploring the creative use and misuse of cheap, accessible technologies. In many of his analogue works, Bruhin explored the possibilities of simple cassette equipment. He invented DIY approaches to layering sounds by using multiple tape machines, experimented with distortion and tape speed, or, in his classic Inout (1981) created a maniacally single-minded audio monument to the pause button. Like the computer pixel drawings the artist produced around the same time as these recordings, Speech Poems/Fruity Music extends this approach to consumer software, presenting two parallel sequences of works that make use of Fruity Loops’ inbuilt synthetic instruments and its speech synthesis function. The instrumental works play like a twisted take on the aesthetics of 1980s video game soundtracks, using synthetic accordion and harpsichord sounds to realise jaunty little ditties that exploit their machine-realisation by making use of improbable pitch-bends and humanly impossible tempos and articulations. Between these samples of Fruity Music, we are treated to the Speech Poems, a series of recitations by a lone computer-generated voice. Many of them are in fact songs, as the synthetic voice crudely and hilariously changes pitch as it moves through its fragmented syllables and odes to cream in coffee. Carrying on Bruhin’s interest in the creative misuse of technology, many of the Speech Poems attempt to force Fruity Loops’ voice synthesis, designed only to speak English, to speak German. By entering phonetic text into the program, Bruhin gets it to produce a passable German alphabet and a series of approximations to a proper pronunciation of his name. Hilarious while strangely austere, entertaining but bizarre, Speech Poems/Fruity Music is classic Anton Bruhin, arriving in a beautiful mosaic cover by the artist, with the text of the ‘abc für anglophone’ on the back cover.

Originally from Sicily but living in Basel, electronic composer Marco Papiro confirms his eccentric and multifaceted personality. The sound articulation of his analog synthesizers flows into in an artificial hyperrealism of great thematic and expressive variation. The tracks unfold between ascending cosmic moments, more ecstatic meditative tones, symphonic planetary floods, exotic afrodelic and psycho-andean drifts. Papiro synthesises and converts echoes of acoustic wind instruments (oboe, recorders, bamboo flute), while the percussion lives on its own pulsating reality. The influence of certain folk traditions, as well as contemporary music, also suggests the more acoustic flavor of an ethereal minimalism (for voice and psaltery), making his music a continuous open sea of visions. Cover painting by Anton Bruhin printed on two different colored papers. Co-released with Les Giants.

The inimitable Richard Youngs returns to Black Truffle with this third full-length for the label, Hidden. Like CXXI and Modern Sorrow, Hidden unfolds across two side-long pieces at once eminently listenable and possessed of the ‘bloody-minded’ dedication to ‘having an idea and sticking with it’ that Youngs himself has identified as one of the key qualities of his work.

At the core of both pieces are rapid, randomised arpeggios generated with a Moog Grandmother, hypnotic patterns that wouldn’t be out of place on a Berlin School classic. Alongside these arpeggios, across the seventeen minutes of the first side-long piece Youngs builds an airy structure of shakers, synthetic handclaps and a brief, repeated sample, impossible to identify but sounding like a glitched foghorn. Over the top we hear his unmistakable voice, repeating single syllables—Ha, Ho—with a slow delay, something like a lonely one-man-band take on Anthony Moore’s Pieces from the Cloudland Ballroom or a more musical elaboration of the hypnotically overlapping delayed phonemes of Anton Bruhin’s Rotomotor. Like much of Youngs' work, the arrangement of sounds is sparse, each layer punctuated by spaces that allow others to shine through, in a way that seems to have more to do with dub or early hip-hop than high-brow models of musical reductionism.

On the flipside, the arpeggios return, now accompanied by ringing, filtered guitar chords and long flute tones. The use of a similar ground layer across the two pieces with strikingly different overdubs calls up Youngs' first solo record, the classic Advent, reminding us of how consistent ‘theme and variations’ is as an approach in his enormous body of work. Joined by handclaps and a chiming sound, the piece almost feels like it is about to achieve dance-floor lift-off at times, only for the percussion to disappear and leave the listener once again floating among the guitar and flute, now joined by occasional cut-off vocal snippets, like a radio turned quickly on and off. The suspension of these disparate elements over the steady foundation of the Moog arpeggios might remind some listeners of the free-form studio explorations of Moebius & Plank and Holger Czukay or even give a nod to Youngs’ formative encounter with Cabaret Voltaire.

Like some of Youngs’ much-loved work with Simon Wickham-Smith, Hidden approaches relatively familiar sounds and instruments from skewed angles, delighting in loose structures of interaction that border on gleeful incoherence while remaining outwardly beautiful. Coming up to almost four decades of persistent activity, like little else in contemporary music Youngs’ work beams with the simple joys of exploration and experiment.



First album by this duo, known separately for their work in Mouse on Mars
and Gastr del Sol.
 Two long-form pieces, utterly different from one another: one hyper-detailed
electronic music and sound poetry, and the other live-in-the-studio electric
guitar and laptop paint-peeling.
 The exciting first chapter in a long-anticipated collaboration
 David Grubbs and Jan St. Werner met in the mid-1990s when Grubbs was
playing with Gastr del Sol and The Red Krayola and St. Werner in Mouse on
Mars and Microstoria. After years of exchanging ideas, ‘Translation from
Unspecified’ marks their first time locking horns as a duo, and it’s clear this
deck-clearing collaboration was long overdue.
 In January 2020 Grubbs arrived at Mouse on Mars’ Berlin studio Paraverse
with a guitar and ‘Translation from Unspecified’, an open-ended, seemingly
self-generating poem suggesting AI, one of the themes in St. Werner’s recent
work. This became the side-length title track, a winding corridor of electronic
fanfares and spontaneous musical miniatures urging Grubbs’s slow and
steady recitation to grow wings and graduate into song.
 Who knows where this idiosyncratic mise-en-scène - day-glo, extrovert
electronics and task-oriented human - came from? Reference points - distant
ones - might include Robert Ashley and Paul De Marinis’s ‘In Sara, Mencken,
Christ and Beethoven...’ and the sound poetry of Anton Bruhin.
 Flip the record and you have ‘Soixante Ooze’, a live-in-the-studio duo for
guitar and computer more recognizably St. Wernerian and Grubbs-like that
reconfigures elements of the title track before finally morphing into needlepinning monoliths of sound.
 David Grubbs has released fourteen solo albums and appeared on more
than 200 releases. He was a member of the groups Gastr del Sol, Bastro,
and Squirrel Bait and has performed with Tony Conrad, Pauline Oliveros,
Luc Ferrari, Will Oldham, Loren Connors, the Red Krayola, Royal Trux, and
many others. His newest book is ‘Good night the pleasure was ours’ (Duke
University Press, 2022).
 Jan St. Werner is an artist and electronic music composer best known as
one half of the group Mouse on Mars. He has collaborated with Oval’s
Markus Popp as Microstoria and written music for installations and films by
visual artist Rosa Barba. In 2013, St. Werner released ‘Blaze Colour Burn’,
the first of a series of experimental recordings called ‘the Fiepblatter
Catalogue’. Recently his work has prioritized installation and interventions
with spatialized sound, including a number of collaborations under the name
Dynamische Akustische Forschung (DAF).