Philip Samartzis - Soft and Loud

Philip Samartzis
Soft and Loud
Microphonics
01

For the past several years, ever since first hearing him in his very fine duo recording with Sachiko M. (“artefact” [sic], on Dorobo Limited Editions), Philip Samartzis has been a regular source for some of my favorite new music. Several pieces of his that appeared last year on some compilations (“Grain” and “Variable Resistance”) turn out to have been sketches of a sort for this piece, originally intended as a surround sound experience. “Soft and Loud” is comprised entirely of reworked field recordings compiled in Tokyo and its environs, concentrating on everyday sounds, natural and man-made. By choosing which aspects to accentuate, which to maneuver into foreground or background, Samartzis constructs a subtle, “unfolding narrative” (as he puts it in his liner notes) that, without going so far as to suggest a story-line, certainly has something of a closely (aurally) examined walk, one executed in a hyper-conscious, aesthetically sensitive state. This has become, I think, a very interesting mini-trend among certain musicians: a tenuous, almost-not-there storytelling quality that offers a “way around”, perhaps, some free improv roadblocks. Samartzis is not quite as imagistic as Olivia Block but I hear a degree of similarity in feel, a like desire to heighten and contrast real world sounds, at the same time molding them into something of a tale.

Part of the fascination has to do with the near hyper-reality of the sounds in terms of their sonic vividness that, paradoxically, sometimes renders them eerily difficult to identify. At the beginning of the first track, you immediately think of sharply etched water sounds, perhaps rain, but then you pause and wonder if it’s not the crackling of fire. You’re presented with the psychologically disorienting but giddily thrilling sensation of both acute awareness and uncertainty. Several elements reappear at irregular intervals (the sheared-metal screech of an abruptly shut steel gate, fractured, hiccupping acoustic guitar strums, a melancholy solo flute) as though you’re randomly walking through a neighborhood, occasionally retracing your steps, touching familiar bases though hearing them juxtaposed against different surroundings on each pass. Given its original design, this sense of linear movement might well be an artifact of the CD format but if so, it nonetheless functions superbly. It may only be due to the geographical source of the recordings, but I couldn’t help thinking of the aura of everyday magic achieved in Murakami’s “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles”, where an amble down a back alley could lead to fantastic, unexpected experiences. Samartzis generally limits himself to a handful of sound-strands at any moment, carefully playing particular textures off one another, allowing ample amounts of “air” into the pieces. As with much of what might be called (but not to pigeonhole it as such) post-Ferrari music, the success of a work may have much to do with the listener’s perception of the poetry involved in the placement of elements, the unforced yet surprising naturalness of the apposing sounds. For myself, it’s deriving the feeling of, “Yes, this is how I might have heard these things, had I been attuning my ears appropriately at that time and place.” I suspect that for many listeners, given the opportunity, this affinity with Samartzis’ aesthetic sensibility will be the rule more often than not. “Soft and Loud” is an exceptionally fine and rewarding work, well worth seeking out.

Additional information is available at: www.philipsamartzis.com

~ Brian Olewnick