In recent years the Italian region of Abruzzo has seen a flourishing of artists, installations and events related to the salient aspects of acoustic acumen as a means for increasing the awareness of the quieter nuances of reality (and, extending the concept further, for self-investigation). Rather often, to slightly paraphrase the wording of Lorenzo Balloni, those aural shades constitute vital necessities in today’s existential insecurity. The Farthest Ends Of Creation is a relatively short piece, but its 28-minute frame is more than enough to let us absorb what the originator had in mind and, especially, to appreciate his somewhat innocent wisdom.
In itself, the composition is not exactly revolutionary; indeed, in this overpopulated sonic cosmos nothing is. However, Balloni’s discographic debut reveals a fully fledged maturity in setting the sequences and merging the sources. A gradual flow is established, which respects the listener’s need of opening the perceptive gates to something different from the ordinariness of everyday anxiety. Boreal luminescences help us through corridors adorned by objects lacking a definite contour, until we start hearing signs of human and animal inhabitance amidst the ethereal reflections. Disembodied female voices, birds, crickets and assorted echoes from the local countryside – including splendidly recorded gusts of wind and torrential rain – facilitate the detachment from negativity. It becomes clear, at last: the lone moments to be deemed indispensable in the miserable attempt to decode the essentials of life are those in which we forget about anyone and anything else, and just perk the ears up inside our very transiency. Meaning that even what one looks at must be listened to first. When this assumption will be registered on a global scale – unthinkable right now, but you never know – then a small candle of hope for the beginning of a genuine growth is going to be lighted.