cage
of sand carlos zingaro | sirr007
Portuguese
violinist Zingaro, a regular collaborator
with bassist Joelle
Léandre, works solo magic here
with his real time blending of violin
and
electronics. He projects spectral streams
of glass harmonica, dips
minimalist slabs into corrosive solutions
so they glow and effervesce, and
mimics the meanderings of animated speech
patterns. The bow glides then
sputters; strings whimper, pop and soar;
shortwave agitation contaminates
celestial shimmers; whale cries filter
through an underwater cathedral. On
Cage of Sand, an experienced improvisor's
extreme versatility, steeped in
electroacoustic know-how, opens up charmed
spaces.
the wire magazine
"The new relationship between the
violin and its electronic counterpart(s)
produces stop-and-start clamor that
could be jets taking off, tweety birds
complaining, a saxophone's key pops,
processed voices, a child's video
game, temple bells tinkling and clock
ticking, faster and faster. Obviously
Zingaro has discovered the true nature
of electronics -- that you can bend
them to reflect new avenues of expression
with your own instrument as a
sound source."
ken waxman, alljazzweekly
"His mastery of real-time electronic
transformations is as state-of-the-art
as you're likely to need. "Cage
of Sand" is the most impressive
solo work
he's produced since "Carlos Zingaro
Solo" back in 1989 (and that was
notable
principally for the seven second echo
of the monastery where he recorded
it). Don't let Marc Behrens' austere
cover photography and track titles like
"Logic and Ordered Space"
and "Sedimentary Deposit of Suffering"
put you
off: this is real from-the-gut playing,
beautifully recorded and it richly
repays repeated listening."
Dan Warburton, Signal-to Noise
Zingaro has been rafting these waters
for a while, but recent technological
advances have allowed him to find a
much more satisfying way to integrate
electronics into his playing. Real-time
sound treatment feels so natural and
interactive when compared to the crude
MIDI-triggered sound synthesis of the
late '80s. The violinist's playing is
fluid, varied, and creative. The
treatments embellish, expand the power
of atmospheres, challenge the player
with mirror images of himself, and reveal
hidden corners of the instrument
by drawing listeners closer to some
details. Do not be lured by programmatic
titles like "Representations of
Beasts" and "Radio Insects";
they poorly
translate the music lying underneath
them. Zingaro has struck a fine balance
between acoustic and electronic music
and noise.
François Couture, All music guide
Words failed me when I first encountered
Cage of Sand by Carlos Zingaro.
Nine pieces for violin and electronics,
performed in real time with only a
touch of editing and mixing, and I became
stoically silent in the wake of
their intensity and vigour. At times
tense, at others playful, yet always
challenging and complex, Zingaro's improvisations
are charged with
electricity, latent and explosive in
turns, the unpredictable electronic
elements originating from inventive
strains on the violin, all the while
involved in its own tricks and acrobatics.
Richard di Santo, Incursion.org
Carlos Zingaro es uno de los grandes
de la nueva música portuguesa
desde
hace más de una década.
Un maestro improvisador que trabaja
habitualmene
también junto a artistas como
Otomo Yoshihide, Richard Teitelbaum,
o Joelle
Leandre. Cage of Sand es su nuevo trabajo,
esta vez para el interesantísimo
sello SIRR,? destacando entre su abundante
discografía. En este disco
Zingaro utiliza solo un violín
como fuente sonora, procesado en tiempo
real
con diversos tratamientos electrónicos.
No es solo una alucinante
exploración de los sonidos producidos
entre el violín y la electrónica
sino
también un disco lleno de fuerza,
tensión e intensidad.
bulletin, rotor
It is a very enjoyable cd that made
me think of Jon Rose and
Agencement. The way Zingaro uses electronics
the music becomes very
polyphonic. The music is very lively
and poetic. Zingaro is a true
master.
DM, vital weekly
Zingaro heavily favors improvisation,
playing along with his electronics
in real time with "very little
editing or remixing." Simple to
outline, this approach is
difficult to fully capture. Zingaro
plays off-the-cuff duets with his own
electron-based ghosts, parries hideously
time-delayed mutations of his own
instrument, manipulates his own infinite
replications into unrecognizable
walls of sound. There's seldom a melody
or a clear structure; instead,
Zingaro offers an array of consistently
challenging experiments. "The Cities
and the Dead" is the 9- minute
opener, a duplicated set of odd violin
lines
that devolve into a string section warming
up, then become a cloned drone
over a wave of underlying sonic textures
that eventually smother it. "White
Fire" starts with an oddly soothing,
continuously evolving distortion field
bearing no resemblance to any natural
string sound before breaking into an
almost pure violin line with an ominous
hum as accompaniment. When the
identifiable violin vanishes near the
end, it's like a wake-up call. A
crystalline, ambient introduction of
sustained tones opens the finale,
"Nothing Is Remote," but these
are joined by mutated whale songs and
time-distorted backward masking sounds,
before it all breaks off in an
utterly unresolved ending. Listening
to Cage of Sand, I'm reminded of the
discordant moments of Howard Shore's
work for director David Cronenberg,
the
minimalistic coldness of Crash or the
free jazz collaborations with Ornette
Coleman on the Naked Lunch soundtrack.
It's easy to imagine Zingaro's effort
scoring some equally experimental film.
Do I actually enjoy listening to
Cage of Sand? Yes, in many ways I do.
Zingaro's creativity mastery of the
electronic manipulation of his violin
is fascinating and admirable, and
after some exposure, the sheer foreignness
is replaced with a certain
appreciation. However, there are still
days when Zingaro's work forces me to
reach rapidly for another disc, any
other disc, instead. This cacophony
can
be as overwhelming as it is interesting.
This is certainly music for the
"difficult listening hour,"
as Laurie Anderson might put it. But
if you
enjoy heavily experimental music and
can appreciate being trapped between
the worlds of Form and Pandemonium,
then enter Carlos Zingaro's Cage of
Sand. You may not exit Zingaro's enclosure
humming its praises, but at the
very least, you'll leave feeling challenged
by its confines.
Rambles Magazine
Most of the tracks here sound like they'd
make a terrific soundtrack for a
particularly fucked-up independent horror
movie, all high squealing noises
that straddle the line between spine-tingling
and just plain painful, combined
with odd digitally-manipulated sound
effects that make it sound like you're
just about to crash headlong into a
haunted house. At the same time, there's
a playfulness involved. Maybe all the
monsters tiptoeing around just behind
you aren't out to eat your brains, but
rather to tease you, running off and
giggling every time you look over your
shoulder. And all this from what is
essentially a solo violin record. Zíngaro's
instrument is fed through any
number of electronic filters, bent and
broken into pieces. It's deeply weird
-- and yet, after a half-hour or so,
his world falls into place and makes
its
own internal logic; it removes the violin
from its usual context and, by
making it unrecognizable, makes the
bizarre familiar -- demonstrating
that just because something sounds unfamiliar
and alien doesn't mean
it necessarily is.
Mandy Shekleton, splendidzine
Impiegando in maniera allargata il suo
strumento d'origine e trattandone i
suoni elettronicamente, il nostro congiura
una metastasi di noduli fonici
schematizzata con severità da
musica contemporanea ma anche vivacissima
sotto il profilo ritmico-timbrico tanto
che "Structural Functions",
ad
esempio, sembra seguire le repentine
evoluzioni di un cartoon impazzito.
nicola catalano, rumore
Un pedigree di tutto rispetto pertanto,
che quest' album per soli violino ed
eletronics conferma et rafforza. Immginate
un violino particolarmente
schizzato alle presse con dele rielaborazioni
in tempo reale via laptop e
software construiti personalmente da
Zingaro: il resultato `e una cascata
di
suoni framentati e spostati come, mutatis
mutandis, potreste sentire da
Kevin Drumm o dogli Nmperign. Non per
tutti ma se vi mancava il violino net
cornet delle ipotesi, qui ne trovate
una prova superlativa.
Stephano Bianchi, Blow-Up Magazine