Die Schachtel


A burdensome existence; an uncomfortable quiescence; the unfathomable complexity of correspondences that cannot be delineated by words. All of this, and much more, can be depicted through sequences of sonic appearances by someone living at the deepest levels of sentience.

Osvaldo Coluccino’s work at the margin of one’s psychological response to a given acoustic environment has been carried on over a decade. Dimensioni is the brilliant outcome, a collection of nine tracks exploring aural spaces and inner adjustments with soberness and acumen. This disc needs your full mental and physical self; it is not something that can be left in the background while performing mundane acts. Sticking labels, or lamenting the absence of striking effects, would inevitably unveil inadequate analysis.

The superimposition of diverse realities appears to be a cardinal issue in the Italian composer’s research. Still, the bulk of this record is made of “scenes”; some of them longer than others, a few of them only brief glimpses across the various stages of interior connection. The sources, largely unidentified, propose different paths towards a profound discernment; quite unusual, in the age of slapdash esoteric cheapness. In that sense, nothing in any track has really more importance than the rest of its components. As an example, “Differenza” exploits and alters the characteristics of a piano; yet, the piece’s success does not lie in the particularity of the instrument’s treatment. It’s the reconditeness of the implication; the attempt to focus on a systematically mutating wholeness, in turn conveying untold emotions – fears, perhaps – desperately attempting to manifest themselves. But – again – not by stupid philosophical declamations.

Frequently possessing a “blurred-at-the-edges” quality, Coluccino’s creations eschew the kind of acousmatic hodgepodge that smiles and winks at green audiences. They are defined by technical rigor and – in general – scarce lighting, although on occasion (“Chimica REM”, “After”) there is room for abrupt dynamic kicks and knifelike frequencies. This writer’s favorite is the concise “Altro”: two minutes and five seconds synthesizing the whole content of a mind that is not asking anymore, the merging process with the healthily dissonant features of the Stream almost completed.

“In the end, it’s just music”, writes Coluccino to close his notes, and he is absolutely right. But not everybody’s music. Rather, an egoless gem that should be diffused in any possible way.

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