20130923...morning

20131017_Morning

11.11 Rainday

harume / 07 April, 2014 sound diary...*

TIMELESS VOL.6 @ SUPERDELUXE

LIVE:Yoshitaka Hikawa
VJ:Tamon
.
May. 17, 2014
LIVE : Manathol / Jemapur / Young Juvenile Youth / Sabi / Yoshitaka Hikawa
DJ : Ametsub / Shiratori Nepalman
VJ:Shunsaku Ishinabe / Tamon

http://vimeo.com/97249214

http://www.phase-works.com/?p=914

0517 sample

collin

||| freedownload |||
https://elementperspective-04.bandcamp.com/album/untitled-02

[ EPV_199 ] no / -

Sampler from the forwind release. 
http://forwind.net/releases/fwd09

'North Palace' is the third release and first physical by Tokyo composer and producer Tomonari Nozaki. 
'Tomo's' hugely immersive sound feels like opening an old dusty wooden box and hearing a frayed melancholy soundtrack to somewhere standing outside of time and the concerns of the world. It manages to be remote and indefinable in parts but has such spirit, sincerity and indeed warmth it's hard not to let yourself become completely absorbed.
Anyone who has been following the forwind story so far will know we don't go for bluster. Hand on heart this is genuinely sublime stuff.

Written and Produced by Tomonari Nozaki 
Mastered by Conor Curran
Additional mixing on Track I by Shane Lawlor
Artwork and Graphic Design by Hannes Jensch

[REVIEW]

The Liminal 
http://www.theliminal.co.uk/2013/03/tomonari-nozaki-north-palace/
There are occasions when music is not the best, but the only viable form of communication. The latest release on the forwind label is from their furthest flung producer – the emerging Tokyo based composer and produced Tomonari Nozaki. North Palace is his debut physical release, after a series of digital only pieces on the Slovak label Soun Records, under the alias of UNKNOWKNjp.
But what is the North Palace? I contacted forwind to ask for more information on the work, but apparently the language barrier ensured that Nozaki couldn’t describe the influences adequately. He sent pictures to best convey his influences and answer the label’s questions. This all adds to the rather mysterious and cloaked nature of the release; a distant artist, producing music that can’t be described by words, only through sound and images.
In which case, we’re only left with the music to represent the North Palace, for which Nozaki uses a hazy collage of dark drones and barely audible static. It unfurls and grows in a very organic manner, like a flower in the first fits of spring, breaking through the rough harsh ground and expanding into the light. Split into five parts, each feels like a separate theme, a hymn to a different part of the “North Palace”, whatever that may be. The rather mystical background to the album would suggest that the Palace is something unique, perhaps created from Nozaki’s memory and the music thus reflects a patchwork of remembered ideas combining to create a fictionalised locale. The slowness of these pieces could be said to reflect the process of recalling memory, of thinking back to specific details that are now clouded and have become too difficult to remember fully. There’s a religious feel to ‘Part II’ and ‘Part III’, as if you’re working through a cathedral or gothic palace, the high stone ceilings allowing the undulating tones to take on a rather church organ sound.
What I’ve found most striking about North Palace is its way of isolating the listener from the real world. As the music plays I find myself drifting away, shutting my eyes and letting Nozaki’s Palace surround me and pervert my senses. This is driven by the uplifting tones – the rolling and swelling of the music actively encouraging you to get lost, to submit to it. Regardless of whether this palace is fabricated or not, you’ll still want to be locked within.

__________________________________________________________________________________________
scrolldust 
http://scrolldust.com/2013/02/25/tomonari-nozaki-north-palace/
Right from the very beginning there is a palpable sense of inward bleakness that shrouds North Palace. Echoes of musical shapes swirl behind clouds of white noise, stark and slippery, forever sinking away into the formless chasm that surrounds them.

It took me a few listens to get into this record. The use of noise to put distance between the music and its listener is one we’ve become accustomed to in recent years, but rarely do we find this technique pushed to the extremes found on North Palace. What starts as a gentle hiss obscuring the submerged harmonies later becomes so thick as to engulf them completely; the melancholy is so cold that to try and sit down to listen to it purposefully seems woefully pointless. Better instead to wait until accident catches you in just the right mood, and in just the right circumstance. In short, I get the sense that the depths of North Palace are the kind you need to sink into, rather than plunge into.

In the middle of the album – Track III – the smooth top end static of the earlier tracks is replaced by the warmer sound of crackling vinyl. What didn’t occur to me the first few times I listened to it is that all this lo-fi treatment serves a conceptual purpose in addition to its textural one. We hear the click of a record run to the end of its groove but still revolving: the sound that’s left when all other sounds have finished, without anyone there to tell it to stop. This slight recontextualisation of the source sound is what opened the album up for me; the sudden giving way of the formless white to a lonely image – of the abstract to the concrete – making visible what should have been obvious all along: that North Palace is all about pathos. Forgetting for a moment the near motionless minimalism at work here, each track maps out with smudged drones and piano a song of its own, always somewhere on the line between tragedy and optimism.

I’m reminded of the techniques of anamorphosis used by medieval painters: the distortion or stretching of images so that they could only be seen from certain angles or perspectives. The aim was to delay revelation, to force the onlooker to spend time looking for the deeper pictures among the more obvious surface features. This release from Tomonari Nozaki does something I think is similar. Getting inside it is a process of stripping away levels of clutter in the mind, approaching a realisation that this is quite simply a collection of sad, elegant tracks, that they need not be any more than that, and moreover that they are left all the more beautiful by the work required in uncovering them.

__________________________________________________________________________________________
Dalston Sound 
http://dalstonsound.wordpress.com/2013/03/14/tomonari-nozaki-north-palace/
North Palace (Forwind) is the sound of ambient drift and temporal collapse, carried through the white noise of a light-weighted needle tracking a phonograph groove at slow speed. We hardly need to be told that Tokyo-based producer Tomonari Nozaki produced this music on “old reel to reel tape units and analogue equipment”.

North Palace is a suite of five pieces. “Part I” is aeolian siren sound drifting through audio-mnemonic mist, soft detonations punctuating the lulling ambient scurf. Gradually, through ten minutes of elemental accretion, it builds and breaks as a rolling wave.

A nostalgia-evoking shimmer of pianistic harmonics ripples through the sound-mote static of “Part II”. The effect is muzzy and narcotic. On “Part III”, the riffle of a locked groove mixes with a melancholic whorl of reverberant organ in cavernous headspace. Traces of spectral choristry merge with the sense impression of an orchestra on “Part IV”. There’s an unusual point of dislocation before the end, where sound-clouds part to reveal dry, rodent-on-cardboard scratching sounds. It’s only a fleeting event; a nice touch.

You may have encountered similar soundscapes before: venturing into Thomas Koner’s liminal arctic zones; accompanying Gavin Bryar’s Titanic into a cold, crepuscular aquatic void; meditating within the cathedrals of Philip Jeck’s stacked Dansette installations; losing yourself in the entropy of William Basinski’s Disintegration Loops. But North Palace doesn’t sound derivative; it’s nicely realised, thoughtfully structured, concise and richly detailed.

“Part V” could be the noise of a music-free acetate played on an entropic, time-slowed loop; except there are lacunae in the playback, like the temporal glitches produced by slack tape. That’s probably, albeit deliberate, what they are.

Given the loaded, romantic appeal of pre-aged audio, and the audibility of process that’s so integral to any such acid-washed music, it’s ironic that North Palace could (perhaps) only be mediated effectively on CD/in cold digital. The vinyl edition of Basinski’s Disintegration Loops proposes the continuation of a process of creation through attrition, but we need the pink noise of a CD to reveal the assiduous detail in the weave of these multiple-analogue soundscapes.

Hear for yourself: there’s a five minute sampler mix for the album on Soundcloud.

North Palace is Nozaki’s first release in any hard format. It follows an EP and an album of ambient tape loops, issued on the Slovakian Soun Records label in digital-only format under the alias UNKNOWNjp.

__________________________________________________________________________________________
The Art of memory 
http://theartofmemory.blogspot.jp/2013/03/push-back-into-shadows-things-that-come.html
about these places especially, dark, almost dirty, shadows gathered. come to discover beauty in shadows. the light from the garden; fragile, dying rays, avoid the failure to comprehend the mystery of shadows, and especially not to disturb the glow. listening to the murmur that penetrates, what lies within the darkness one cannot distinguish. the spell disappears from the dream world built by that strange light, what feeble light there was i could imagine. a part picked up by a faint light. water lines harmonize with and bury the wires.  the beauty of the grain begins to emerge, left obscure, shrouded in a dusky haze. softness and warmth of the still dimmer light, the aura of depth and mystery.  set out in the night, and recede into darkness. dreamlike glow that suffuses it.
(tanizaki - manipulated in praise of shadows)

[Boomkat product review]
Forwind's 2013 trajectory starts with a wonderfully noisy ambient piece by emergent Japanese producer, Tomonori Nozaki. With previous experiments conducted in the minimal techno field, Nozaki arrives at a lush and widescreen sound on 'North Palace'. He uses analog equipment to organic, evocative appeal, eschewing any computer processing to embrace the infidelities of tape-loop splicing and dusty synth sounds beside other, unnamed outboard sources. The most direct precedents for this sound clearly lie in William Basinski's decaying spools and the romantic isolation of The Boats or certain Untitled releases, yet his analog ghosts take their own form with canny spectral spatialisation subtly drawing our perceptions between its finely layered dimensions of hiss and squinted melody. It's quite lovely.





buy this album

"North Palace" Sampler/tomonari nozaki(Forwind/FWD09)

compilation album
[EPV_156] TALKIE / EPV WHITES
element perspective(Japan)


free download

le Scorpion de Flamme(element perspective/EPV156)

Excerpt from the invisible birds release. 
http://invisiblebirds.org/catalogue/oiseaux003.html

a release of mr. tomonari nozaki. abstract sound projections & melodies using destruction techniques discovered with reel to reel tape-loopsplicings and other analogue romanticisms. mr. nozaki has beginnings in minimal techno and experimental music, and after a slight pausefrom music, has returned in 2012 with some transcendental experimentations into the rarely visited places of "liminality" and "the sublime".

Written and Produced by Tomonari Nozaki 
Artwork and Photography by Matthew Swiezynski

the video of Chapter III (Excerpt)
video made by Ans van de Sluis

[Reviews]
SANTA SANGRE
http://santasangremagazine.wordpress.com/2013/06/23/tomonari-nozaki-une-histoire-de-blue-englishpolish/
ENG: In any film, you’ll come across one or perhaps two moments where the director’s vision burns right out of the celluloid and into your mind. Depending on how effective the said director is at integrating those beats into the rest of the proceedings will determine how good of a production you’re watching. These fleeting, frozen frames are elusive at the very best and illusory at worst. Tomonari Nozaki has, with his album, made the auditory equivalent of a movie that is nothing but those intensely smoldering cinematic yearnings. Each second is an expansive, intuitive descent into what makes our blood curdle, boil and run cold all at once.
Une Histoire de Blue is a profoundly sad, forlorn piece of work. Each chapter a series of regrets, every thunderous wave which breaks upon your ears is a lamentation. What once was, what could have been, where things stand now, the one who never requited what was given them. I hear this kind of artistry rarely in my line of work, it is all too easy to just thrown down a couple layers of formless drone then tinker in a few random noises and call it good. But this release here contains fully-formed, extremely articulate compositions where the field recordings flow imperceptibly into what Nozaki has channeled out of his machinery
Loss is the main arena Nozaki is working within, all of his sounds and structures contain a slowly decaying core; the soundtrack of a satellite descending out of orbit with the lifeless, inert crew forever frozen in place at their stations. Watching. Waiting. Wailing. I cannot help but come away from hearing this with a very heavy heart. The tantalized memories of one person’s understanding of what the color blue can mean. Is this in reference to the film? I could not tell you but the sense of cataclysm and sudden rupture from life are undeniable. We may have both a meditation on all the different meanings of what it is to exist in this realm and also an alternate score to a movie which was easily the strongest act to a three film epic that resonates to this day.
No matter, however, let us return to what Mr. Nozaki has given us. It is described as an excursion into the sublime, which is pretty close to the mark. There are much much more than simple synonymic anagrams going on within these four chapters (the four stages of life? the four cycles of civilization? the four seasons on the calendar?)I’ll leave that with the listeners fortunate enough to hear this… for me they are four exquisitely designed, shape-shifting takes on the very nature of reality. Everything is transitory, this will give you something to hold on to.

PL: W każdym filmie natrafić można na jeden albo dwa momenty, kiedy wizja reżysera przepływa z taśmy celuloidowej wprost do naszego umysłu. Umiejętność reżysera scalania tych ulotnych fragmentów z resztą filmu determinuje jak dobra jest produkcja, którą właśnie oglądasz. Te zwiewne, zatrzymane klatki filmowe w najlepszym przypadku bywają nieuchwytne, w najgorszym iluzoryczne. Płyta Tomonari Nozakiego to dźwiękowy ekwiwalent filmu, właśnie takiej intensywnie się tlącej kinowej tęsknoty. Każda sekunda to ekspansywne, lecz również intuicyjne zejście w stronę tego czegoś, co sprawia, że nasza krew się ścina, gotuje i zamarza jednocześnie.
Une Histoire de Blue to głęboko smutne, rozpaczliwe wręcz dzieło. Każdy rozdział to seria rozczarowań, każda grzmiąca fala, która przetacza się przez uszy jest w istocie lamentem. Co było kiedyś, co mogło być, na czym teraz stoję, co nie zostało oddane. Rzadko słucham tego rodzaju artystycznej ekspresji, bo to zbyt łatwe, wrzucić kilka warstw bezkształtnych dronów, pomajstrować potem przy nich przypadkowymi hałasami i uznać, że to jest dobre. Ale to wydawnictwo zawiera w pełni ukształtowane, konkretnie wyrażone kompozycje, w których nagrania terenowe niepostrzeżenie wplywają w to, co Nozaki wyciąga ze swojej maszynerii.
Przegrana jest areną, na której operuje Nozaki, wszystkie jego dźwięki i struktury zawierają powoli rozkładający się rdzeń; soundtrack dla satelity zstępującej z orbity, z martwą, bezwładną załogą na zawsze zamrożoną w miejscu jej stacjonowania. Obserwując. Czekając. Łkając. Słucham tego z ciężkim sercem i nic nie mogę na to poradzić. To dręczące wspomnienie prób zrozumienia przez pewną osobę jakie jest znaczenie koloru niebieskiego. Czy to odniesienie do filmu? Tego wam nie powiem, ale poczucie swego rodzaju kataklizmu, nagłego przerwania linii życia jest tu niezaprzeczalne. Możemy tę płytę traktować zarówno jako medytację nad tym jak egzystować w tym królestwie, jak i alternatywną ścieżką dźwiękową do pewnego filmu będącego najmocniejszym punktem pewnej epickiej trylogii, która oglądana jest i dyskutowana do dnia dzisiejszego.
Nieważne, wróćmy do tego, co podarował nam pan Nozaki. Określono to jako podróż w wysublimowane, co generalnie jest dość bliskie prawdy. W tych czterech rozdziałach dzieje się o wiele więcej, niż może się wydawać (cztery etapy życia? cztery cykle cywilizacji? cztery pory roku?). Zostawiam to słuchaczom, którzy będą mieli szczęście zapoznać się z tą muzyką… dla mnie to cztery wspaniale zaprojektowane, zmieniające kształt ujęcia jądra natury rzeczywistości. Wszystko przemija, ale dzięki tej muzyce będziecie mieli się czego trzymać.

____________________________________________________________________________________
Vital Weekly 888 
http://modisti.com/13/2013/06/25/vital-weekly-888/
According to the website of Invisible Birds, “mr. nozaki has beginnings in minimal techno and experimental music, and after a slight pause from music, has returned in 2012 with some transcendental experimentations into the rarely visited places of “liminality” and “the sublime”.” I am not sure, but this might be my first encounter with his music. The music here is announced as
“abstract sound projections & melodies using destruction techniques discovered with reel to reel tape-loop splicings and other analogue romanticisms”, which is actually not far from the truth. Not the reel to reel thing, as that is not easy to check upon, but the romantic aspect of the music. I was thinking there is some classical music on those tapes, as a kind of residue (maybe he got the ones from dear departed father?), which he loops around and by adding sound effects makes them a bit more alienated. It reminds me of Jorge Mantis’ The Beautiful Schizophonic with its looped classical music from the 19th century – the romantic era in that music. Occasionally there is a hiccup which I couldn’t figure to be a glitch in the tape, the stretching of samples (so, maybe it includes computers?), or the burning to CDR? These four long and one short pieces work very fine on a grey day: stretched out fields of sounds, passing like slow clouds in the sky, with the occasional crackle being the summer rain drop. Dark but full of hope and light.
Music by Thomas Bel has found its way to here before – see Vital Weekly 663 – when I thought he hadn’t found his own voice yet. Now, a few years later, I hear something new from him, a work that was originally recorded live June 21st 2011 – which is actually exactly two years ago from the day this was written – but ‘re-arranged and edited’ in May of this year. It’s one long piece, of thirty-three minutes and thirty-three seconds, and it sounds like an outdoor concert: rain is pouring down (no doubt on tape and not live), while Bel plays his guitar in a very minimal way. I never know – not being a guitarist myself – if this actually played, or one of those loop devices, but it’s surely very minimal with a bunch of small changes. As the piece evolves there is the addition of some feedback like sounds, and the guitar – now indeed looped – doubles and triples. Blues music? Yes, it could be. It has that dark, laidback Americana blues feeling of desperation and solitude, even when it’s brought to a mighty crescendo in which all air is sucked into the sound effects before its escape towards the end. A fine good solid piece, as dark perhaps as the Nozaki one, but with less light and more despair. In both cases: if you like Machinefabriek or William Basinski, then this is surely worth checking out. (FdW)

[Art into Life product review]
http://www.art-into-life.com/product/3571
Invisible Birdsの限定100部"oiseaux"シリーズの第三弾。テープスプライシングを中心としたアナログの手法にて制作を行う日本人作家Tomonari Nozaki。1曲目は波しぶきを加工した(?)ノイジーなループに始まり(コレがカッコイイ)、その後はテープ独特のヨレた持続音が続くアンビエントな作品集。青ベースのジャケットが美しい。インサート入り。
third release of the limited 100 edition "oiseaux" series of invisible birds. japanese artist tomonari nozaki produces a method of production in analog
with reel to reel tape-loop splicings. first track starts with a noisy loop that has been modified the sea spray (this is cool). then a collection of
ambient tracks with a persistent kink unique tape followed. blue packaging is beautiful

[Aquarius records product review]
Invisible Birds introduces us to another exceptional composer through their ongoing series of limited edition hand-fabricated cd-rs, where we had been previously graced by the langous tones of Arthur De Eriomem and got a brilliant full length out of Thomas Bel. Here, the imprint offers us an album from the Japanese ambient composer Tomonari Nozaki who started out in the techno scene, but grew fascinated with the purely analogue forms of tape loops and and synthesizers. A sense of rhythm and timing is definitely at play in his work, alluding to the beatless Pop Ambient sensibility that Wolfgang Voigt inspired through his classic Gas albums; but the placid, cinematic grandeur of Nozaki's sources harken more to The Caretaker and William Basinski's emotionally laden scores of forgotten dreams. The four lengthy tracks could endlessly cycle through their maudlin melodies that are stretched and swept as if carried away the currents of a cold, gray ocean. Like Basinski, Nozaki is not averse to including the dusty crackle, ferric drop-outs, and tape machined errors in with his composition. They do come across with a greater deal of randomness than on the aggregated decomposition of Basinski's Disintegration Loops; but all of the wooziness and gauzy ambience makes for a beautifully spellbinding listen. Limited to 100 copies. 

[Igloo magazine review]
http://igloomag.com/reviews/tomonari-nozaki-une-histoire-de-bleu-invisible-birds

Prefacing the four, quarter-hour “chapters” of Tomonari Nozaki’s Une histoire de bleu are one hundred and sixty four seconds of ocean waves lapping at an empty beach. Or it could be the never-ending storm on top of Saturn. And it could be made out of surging static electricity. Either way, it is an irenic head-clearer with which to allow his story of blue to unfold. Its description as “abstract sound projections and melodies using destruction techniques discovered with reel to reel tape-loop splicings and other analogue Romanticisms” immediately calls (or shouts) to mind the work of William Basinski and his disintegration loops, and there certainly is shared ground in reaching for the sublime through retrogression.

Like Basinski, Nozaki succeeds magnificently, though without having his tapes dandruff into obscurity in the making, even though they do occasionally and artfully fail. The first chapter of Une histoire de bleu has that classic, far-away Brian Eno sway, while the second is ghostly and desolate as Rapoon. The third chapter has an orchestra sweep, a deep pathos, a cozy autumnal sadness. It is reminiscent of one of the rolling, pastoral landscapes of Andrew Deutsch’s Loops Over Land, just as it leans toward Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings.” “Chapter Four” recalls Basinski with the greatest clarity, graceful and ever falling, ever falling.

Five möbius strips curving into ambient eternity.


"une histoire de bleu"excerpt/tomonari nozaki(invisible birds/oiseaux003)

-
sound & design label founded in 2010.
-
https://elementperspective.com
-

[ EPV_199 ] no / -

elementperspective

Related tracks