miramar jason kahn | cd | sirr016


What emerges from the daylong session is Kahn’s first masterpiece, a work of almost overwhelming eloquence and intimacy. The sound is rich and gorgeous, with tiny shifts in frequency illuminating miniature details in crystalline quality, rolling out a glassine web of analog hum that has already been compared to Eliane Radigue’s slowly developing compositions. That is an accurate comparison, though one can’t help but feel that Kahn’s utilization of cyclical feedback and resonation systems brings his work closer in intent to Alvin Lucier. These pieces are almost rhapsodic in their near-stasis, an embrace of the humbling immensity of the seascapes captured on the artwork. Indeed, Kahn has stated that “the music on Miramar has many similarities with how the ocean looks when we spend a long time gazing out at it.” There’s a quiescence at Miramar’s core which approaches a kind of “muted ecstacy.” It’s unremittingly gorgeous.
JON DALE, e|i magazine

Like fellow avant-garde, non-percussive drummers like Gunther Muller and Eddie Prevost, Jason Kahn needs to have the physical presence of a drumkit even if he never strikes it in a trdditional means. For Miramar, Kahn devised a feedback system which ran unwavering sinewaves from an analogue synthesizer through the resonant chamber of his floor and back through the synthesizer to close the loop, so as to create multiple harmonic images of the original tones.
In turn, he recorded this system through eight microphones strategically placed thoughout the room. Each of them captured a slighthly different collection of frequencies and vibrations, providing Kahn with a finelly tuned palette of monochromatic sounds. Miramar which kahn treated only through equalization and phasing between the multichannel recordings is a marvelous exercise in holy minimalism on a par with the work of Charlemagne Palestine and Eliane Radigue.
Jim Haynes, The Wire Magazine

Recorded two years after Plurabelle, Jason Kahn's fifth solo album fixes
the shortcomings of that opus by dropping rhythm altogether -- which is
not a small decision for a percussionist. Credited for analogue
synthesizer, percussion and room (yes, feedback is involved), Kahn
makes the plunge into abstract soundscaping, similar in approach to
Günter Müller, although the latter often focuses on grainy textures,
while Kahn is more into droning tones. Miramar is the kind of album that
will either mesmerize you or annoy you to the point of hitting the stop
button before the end of the first track -- which would be a shame,
believe me. His drones are not pure sine waves, they have more depth and feeling, and surprisingly, they work better in headphones than on
loudspeakers, drawing your head into a parallel time-space continuum
(i.e. what you hear seems to be happening in a different realm than what
you see). Tones flap softly, conjuring up ghost harmonics, generating
feedback that adds body to the music, making the drone larger than life,
but in a subtle way. There is no detectable percussion playing -- no
hits, no brush strokes, no audible bowed metal -- except for a tiny bell
in track 2, so one wonders if the percussion credit translates to
vibrating effects on a floor tom (which would certainly be compatible
with what is being heard). Plurabelle was hinting at that direction, but
by getting rid of rhythm and sampling, Kahn has achieved an unsuspected level of purity. And while other artists reaching for the same purity often end up sounding cold and detached, Miramar has a peculiar warmth to it, a warmth that may be due in part to the genius of engineer Bob Drake.
François Couture, All Music Guide, 10.2004

Jason Kahn wasn't always known for minimalist electro-acoustic music and glossy drones. The American-born European resident was once a drummer for various jazz and rock projects, including The Universal Congress, before moving to Berlin in 1990. He resurfaced in 1994 on The Wetware Trombone, with Günther Heinz on Günter Müller's For4Ears imprint. Since then, he's amassed an impressive discography of collaborative releases, but only five solo discs (three own his own Cut label). Miramar is Kahn's most recent solo outing, recorded in France, a complex and layered series of glossy drones. Kahn's recording process was intricate; he rigged up eight microphones in the large studio, and through these (and some contact mics in a floor tom acting as a second acoustic environment) recorded the sounds of analog sine waves and their effects on a series of cymbals. Sound was received by the mics, run back through the synthesizer, and re-captured by the microphones in the room. It's hard to appreciate just how intricate a recording device this must have been, though the resulting Miramar is an expectedly dynamic recording. Miramar's smooth tones aren't what give the music its personality, as the output of Kahn's synth consisted of simple sine waves. A mentally or physically passive listener may not find much to notice within the music, but as the sounds coming from the speakers are approached more closely, a new world of noises is brought to life. Movement within the physical listening space provides even further sonic variance. Kahn explains that in the creation of Miramar, he used the immense room in which he recorded as a third instrument, but he neglects to add that the room in which the disc is heard can become a fourth. SImple movement brings out different overtones in the sounds, uncovering hidden slivers of synth and glistening, translucent films of feedback. threatening, as it slowly fills the room in a way that creates a sort of pseudo-claustrophobia. There are moments at which the music can become slightly There's no imperative that demands the listener to be active in their experience of Miramar, but those who are will experience themusic in a far more rewarding way. This is some seriously subtle music, but as the cliché says, still waters run deep, and Jason's Kahn's Miramar is some deep stuff, indeed.
fakejazz.com, Adam Strohm, 9.2004

"I began to understand why Indian music has ragas for different times of the day and seasons of the year," writes Zürich-based American percussionist and electronician Jason Kahn of his experience recording in Studio Midi in the French Pyrenees. A huge glass door allows natural light to flood Bob Drake's converted barn whose high-ceilinged acoustics helped shape the five tracks of Miramar to such an extent that "room" is credited on the album along with Kahn's analogue synthesizer and percussion. As its title suggests, Miramar is an audio version of gazing out at the ocean, hearing light refract from the waves and imagining sound currents as gradual undulation of ebb and flow. Kahn's superimposed layers of synthesizer tones and distant chiming percussion shift in and out of focus with the slightest movement on the part of the listener, recalling not only his work with Toshimaru Nakamura in Repeat (two of whose albums were also recorded at Studio Midi), but the time-defying perfection of Eliane Radigue, alongside whose Adnos and La Trilogie de la Mort Kahn's album can stand as one of the finest examples of the genre.
The Wire, Dan Warburton, 8.2004

Jason Kahn is one of those artists perennially needing to challenge limitations of human sound perception; the results he obtains in "Miramar" are in that sense truly astounding. Using an analogue synth as a basic source plus a floor tom (as a resonator) and small cymbals, the New York/Zurich-based sound carver achieves that kind of phenomenon where the vibrating propagations turn ears into resonance instruments themselves, something varying through placing our stance in different listening perspective while in our room (preferably large). The sound quality ranges from tidy oscillations to semi-distorted beating of frequencies, both cases yielding membranes' movement and strange responses from the brain. Looks like you're undergoing a transformation of the way you accept an acoustic code, it takes a while before your body reacts correctly - and I'm still trying to define what "correctly" means in this case. Fact is, this is a radical approach to a delicate argument but Jason demonstrates much more about physics with such a few means than hundreds of theories could ever explain with hollow words and formulas.
Massimo Ricci, touchingextremes

Das Label, auf dem Jason Kahn diese CD veröffentlicht, ist eigenwilligerweise aus Lissabon. Als Instrumente listet er: analoge Synthesizer, Percussion und Raum. Und genau so klingt es auch, denn hier geht es eigentlich darum, das Flirren eines Synthesizers irgendwie mit Mikrophonen aufzufangen und die Raumakustik als tragendes Element in den Klang einzubauen. Nicht dass man das unbedingt hören würde, denn irgendwie summt es vor allem. Musik, für die man schon einen eigenen Headroom freimachen muss, denn sie erfordert mehr als nur ein bischen Konzentration.
Debug

Miramar's intent is not self-evident - it's a bit of a dreary collapsing enigma, actually. It has something in common with what has become known as the classic technical difficulty signals, audible and a bit menacing, repetitive and unnerving, but what sets Kahn's work apart is its very minor tonal shifting that plays with such completely poker-faced dealings. This is complex listening to the nth degree.
TjNorris, paris transatlantic

A highly straight forward conceptual approach taken by Jason Kahn here, which only has one person to compare it with: Alvin Lucier. Much of the five pieces reminded me of 'Music On A Long Thin Wire': slow but vibrant pieces of music, on an utter minimalism. In the first piece soft tinkling is brought in, but that's about as far things go, in several of the other
tracks, just the pure sinewaves exist. Certainly not easy music to digest,
but played at a considerable louder volume this music starts to work the space you are in. When one moves his head the frequencies seem to change and take another course and the small details of chance can be noticed. The only problem I had though with this release that five pieces, playing over seventy minutes is maybe a bit too much for me. Three pieces with maybe forty-minutes would have been brilliant, now it meal is too big for me.
FdWaard, Vital Weekly

Ancora diverso è il lavoro di Jason Kahn, che con un salto spazio temporale ci porta in territori futuribili, cioè nei cambiamenti apportati dall’applicazione della moderne tecnologia nell’utilizzo dei vecchi tamburi, da Stockhausen in poi, attraverso l’impiego di apparecchiature elettroniche, microfoni a contatto, ecc. Il disco ripropone le tematiche già espresse da Kahn nei suoi concerti italiani
di fine 2003, con stratificazioni di feedback e risonanze che sembrano derivare più dai “Battimenti” di Pietro Grossi o dalla ricerca di Alvin Lucier sulla saturazione dei suoni che non dalla tradizione degli strumenti a percussione. È strano, casomai, che ad affrontare questa strada di spersonalizzazione dei tamburi sia un batterista puro, o almeno tale Kahn lo è per tradizione, e non un musicista alieno alle tecniche percussive abituali. Un altro disco notevole, anche se non sempre i risultati sono all’altezza dei concetti.
Sands e-zine, 9.2004

Jason Kahn's latest effort may be seen as an exercise in harmonic imaging: using an analogue synth, a floor tom and cymbals, Kahn set up a feedback system. The synth was used to play sine waves that were played back in the room, causing the floor tom to resonate, which was again processed through the synth. The floor tom thus functioned as a resonant chamber. Contact mics placed on the tom subsequently created feedback signals and resonances that were played using the mixer's eq. In addition to the synth and tom, Kahn used as many as 8 differently placed mics that provide a channel for the room's accoustic properties. The room's accoustic diagram thus created provides long monotonous tracks that are carefully edited by Kahn with an eye for detail. Singularities emerge that are extremely infinitesimal, creating an illusion of transient lucidity, deep and droney.
Another fine Sirr release.
Phosphor Magazine, 11.2004

Im 14. Jahrhundert formulierte ein englischer Mönch Namens William of Ockham einen Grundsatz, der besagt, dass Komplexität der Einfachheit nicht ohne Notwendigkeit vorzuziehen sei. Es scheint mir nicht weit hergeholt, diese wissenschaftsphilosophische Aussage auch in bezug auf ein Kunstwerk anzuwenden, besonders wenn es sich dabei um eine so bestechend einfache und grossartige Arbeit wie "Miramar" handelt. Kahn bediente hier ein Feedbacksystem bestehend aus perkussiven Elementen und einem analogen Synthesizer. Die so entstandenen, meist flächigen Klänge wurden mittels acht Raummikrofonen auf verschiedenen Spuren aufgenommen, wobei jedes Mikrofon auf Grund seiner Positionierung im Raum einen anderen Frequenzgang abdeckte. Bei der Postproduktion beschränkte sich Kahn darauf, die Lautstärkenverhältnisse der Spuren langsam und geduldig zu verändern. Beim Hören kommen dank dieser Vorgehensweise die versteckten Nuancen der statischen Sounds nach und nach zum Vorschein und sorgen für ein schwereloses, zeitloses Hörerlebnis. Dieses Album ist in seiner Konsequenz kaum zu übertreffen und markiert wohl einen vorläufigen Höhepunkt im Schaffen Kahns.
>Jazz n' More, Tomas Korber, 3.2005

Rewelacyjna płyta. Wydaje mi się, że te dwa słowa właściwie wystarczyłyby za całą recenzję, ale pomimo tego, iż dość trudno przychodzi mi ją opisać, postaram się dodać jeszcze kilka zdań.
Kahn stworzył pięć, z jednym wyjątkiem kilkunastominutowych, utworów, które wymagają wielokrotnego, uważnego przesłuchania. Z pozoru, te statyczne kompozycje zdają się tylko "być" (może lepszym terminem byłoby: "trwać"), jednak odpowiedni poziom dźwięku pozwala nie tylko usłyszeć wszystkie niuanse, lecz umożliwia fizyczne odczucie mocy wibrującego dźwięku, powoli wypełniającego pomieszczenie, zaś przemieszczanie się po nim pozwala odkrywać różne oblicza tych nagrań. Słuchane z różnych miejsc brzmią one inaczej, wydobyte zostają inne detale, poszczególne utwory przybierają inne oblicza. Taki był zamysł autora i trzeba przyznać, że powiódł się on w całej rozciągłości. Nagrań dokonano na żywo, w dość dużym i, co najważniejsze, wysokim pomieszczeniu. Do ich realizacji Jason Kahn użył ośmiu mikrofonów, analogowego syntezatora oraz instrumentów perkusyjnych. Syntezator wytwarzał falę sinusoidalną oraz przetwarzał brzmienie instrumentów perkusyjnych, bowiem jeden z mikrofonów rejestrujących ich dźwięk, kierował go do syntezatora, skąd wychodził on zmieniony nie do poznania. Kahn obsługując mikser decydował o tym, co i w jakim natężeniu oraz z jaką częstotliwością wydobywało się z dwóch umieszczonych w studio głośników. Następnie te dźwięki były rejestrowane przez pozostałe rozmieszczone w różnych miejscach mikrofony. Warto podkreślić, że ich zadaniem było rejestrowanie innych częstotliwości, zaś ich rozmieszczenie sprawiło, że zapisywały one dźwięk, który odbijając się od ścian, podłogi i sufitu oraz znajdujących się we wnętrzu przedmiotów podlegał WPŁYWOWI pomieszczenia. W ten sposób stało się ono trzecim instrumentem, co zresztą zostało uwzględnione w opisie instrumentarium.
Tyle opisu, najważniejszy jest rezultat, a ten, moim zdaniem, jest znakomity, chociaż jestem w stanie zrozumieć, że ktoś po wysłuchaniu tej płyty stwierdzi, że właściwie nic się tu nie dzieje. Nie namawiam więc do zakupu "Miramar", ale sądzę, że zwolennicy wszelkich minimalizmów, dronów, etc. nie zawiodą się.
Tadeusz Kosiek, http://www.gaz-eta.vivo.pl