Samo Kutin / Pascal Battus — Living Bridges (Edition Friforma)
Living Bridges by Samo Kutin / Pascal Battus
Living Bridges makes a strong argument for the merit of improvised music recordings as viable artistic artifacts. Any improv appreciator already knows the skepticism held in certain quarters for listening to sounds conceived and organized in an instant, without recourse to seeing the extent to which the makers interact visually. More importantly, they know from experience that even a well recorded document does not convey what it was like to be there. This music is especially connected to the sights, feelings, and internal associations it instigates, to the extent that a record might feel like a document of what is missing. But a record can also be its own thing, an abstract concentration of sounds and associated information. And as abstract things go, Living Bridges is pretty swell.
Let’s take it in layers. The artwork on the digipak reproduces what appears to be some smudges of ink upon textured, absorbent paper, whose texture-on-texture appearance corresponds sympathetically with the album’s sounds. And a photo of the two musicians performing in a sunlit basement space gives clues to how the music was made. Slovenian Samo Kutin sits with a hurdy-gurdy on his lap, facing a pair of frame drums mounted on stands. Since the former can activate the latter, and feedback between proximate amplified items can take on a life of its own, one can surmise that elongated sounds rich in timbre, texture, and mutation are on the menu. Frenchman Pascal Battus’s rig is harder to decode. He sits at a table, touching a small object on what appears to be a stand. If you could blow up the picture, and get close to his table, you’d know that the “rotating surfaces” he wields comprise a collection of old Walkmans, small cymbals, and other flat things that can be attached to stands that are rotated by the tape players. The amplified sounds that issue from this set-up can vary widely, and absent a visual explanation, are often hard to source.
Battus often collaborates with saxophonists, so his appearance with a musician whose instrument is geared for continuous sound is worthy of note. But since neither he nor Kutin is interested in making sounds that will plumb your memory bank of known licks, the seven tracks on Living Bridges probably won’t direct your attention towards the duo’s instrumental contrasts and complements. Absent visual input, it’s rarely clear how many people are involved, what tools they’re using, or how they’re using them. Nope, this is a layered of creaks, flutters, grinds, groans, and plastic screams. Sometimes the sounds pile on, sometimes a couple of strata flex and shudder, and sometimes parts withdraw like a Jenga game that is heard, not seen, but somehow never quite makes it to the point of collapse. To misquote an odious politician that we will not name, it’s a fascinating sequence of unknown unknowns — a catalog of cool sounds, involvingly combined.
