KURT LIEDWART – Mare

Mikroton

My ageing brain doesn’t work properly (read: according to disgusting laws of convenience) when it comes to the interpretation of another person’s ambitions. Expressing supposedly profound concepts, the fulgent words used to explicate a disconcerting loyalty to certain principles usually reveal the desperate quest for attention typical of beings deprived of the ability to quiver. Basically, they are stratagems to trap innocence inside a constitutional sickness.

Therefore it was relieving to learn the undraped motivation behind Kurt Liedwart’s Mare. He just wanted to publish at least a part of the sea (“mare” in Italian) of materials gathered over a twenty-year span, which risked to literally submerge him. Of course I was eager to know why a Russian sound artist would choose to use this reviewer’s native idiom. I didn’t deepen the issue, but the attraction was immediate: in fact, I consider il mare as my first and foremost counsellor ever since the puppy age. Moreover, two of the seas mentioned by Liedwart (born Vladimir Kudryavtsev) have cuddled your host’s reflections and body during a sizeable chunk of his existence. For the curious, they are Mar Tirreno and Mar Ligure.

The sea is a metaphor of uncorrupted love, that which is never betrayed. The substance informing this tape is a vivid acoustic epitome of that impression. Achieved by assembling diverse ideas shaping up a distinctive integrity, the sonorities created by Liedwart (on modular synthesizers, electronics and processed field recordings) are at the same time imposing and inspiring in their richness of life forms. Every decent humanoid wishes to be surrounded by beneficial waves; this applies to the marine waters, but also to the constructive vibrations originating from a rewarding communication. By plunging into the frothy currents of this release  – even without stressing that it’s a superb container of enlivening sounds – we’re allowed to fantasize a bit on our utopian desires.

The sea, the silence and momentous music are the lone necessary milestones in one’s brief and unrepeatable transit across dimensions “comprehended” only via defensive fantasies.

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