three compositions kenneth kirschner | sirr0027


David Stubbs, The Wire, February 2007
New York composer Kenneth Kirschner is a keen advocate of open source audio, encouraging other musicians to "sample, appropriate and interpret" his work. Listening to Three Compositions, however, it seems unconscionably inappropriate to appropriate; rather than plunder grubbily, one feels more impelled to stand back and admire.
July 17, 2006, which sounds like it could have been achieved by the running of fingers around the rims of wineglasses, is a stately opener, though its real purpose could be to swab the senses in preparation for the lengthier and more varied pieces to come. The 24 minute April 27, 2004 commences with heavy layers of wartime drones, then a sort of pendulous motion before giving way to the eternal whirr of a bicycle chain. This in turn fades, is supplanted, rears up again, as the background scenery changes, flooded out by some obscure, ecclesiastical clanking, before a more Gothic weatherfront blackens the skies, with rotorblades hoving into view. All of this is logical, organic, slow yet never dull. This composition attracts, rather than 'demands' attention the way some abstract music is shrilly and selfishly wont to do.
The 37 minute May 3, 1997 is an absolute joy. Essentially the free interplay of luminous, highly melodic fragments of microtonal piano and percussion, it could be considered a desolate listening experience, its echo chamber redolent of the indifferent perma-hum of the void. Yet somehow it's inspirational, infinitely listenable. You feel transported back to the middle of the 20th century, to Cage and Pierre Schaeffer chalking out their first ideas on a vast blackboard of nothingness, and experience again a sense of wonder at what the empty decades ahead might bring.

SmallFish, Uk | 11.2006
"Kenneth Kirschner's strength lies in his ability to compose and structure engaging works of contemporary minimalism that keep you riveted for the whole duration. This release for the excellent Sirr Records imprint is a wonderful introduction to his sounds and techniques as it offers 3 distinct pieces. The first, 'July 17, 2006', is a simple, beautiful exercise in tonal harmonies with a delicate touch and a light, airy arrangement. From there, 'April 27, 2004' offers a more complex style with shifting rhythmic elements, micro-tones and a subtle sense of ambience spread over 25 minutes...a soothing and dreamlike piece. Finally, 'May 3, 1997' delivers a trademark piano composition which drifts and meanders through nearly 40 minutes. Deep, beautiful and stark, it really sums up this side of Kirschner's work so well. In essence you'll rarely find such a thorough examination of the different facets of this brilliant musician and, as such, it comes highly recommended for fans and newcomers alike. Superb."

Boomkat, Uk | 03.2007
Paulo Raposo’s wonderful Sirr label is one of the most consistent founts of contemporary electroacoustic minimalism, and this latest release from pianist Kenneth Kirschner certainly isn’t going to dent that reputation. As with his similarly generically titled release for 12k, this disc is comprised of three lengthy pieces of music that show three different sides of Kirschner’s compositional range. The first, ‘July 17, 2006,’ is an exploration into the interplay between simple tones and silences, but proves to be infinitely more interesting than that might sound. Kirschner’s phrasing and choice of intervals are absolutely exquisite and make for compelling listening throughout the piece’s eight minute duration. ‘April 27, 2004’ is a more evidently electronic work which finds Kirschner assembling a subtly woven tapestry of acousmatic sounds and digital signals, revealing a number of rich sonic textures along the way. The final, thirty-seven-minute composition, ‘May 3, 1997,’ is the only piece here to make any obvious feature of Kirschner’s Morton Feldman-esque piano work, and it certainly reinforces Kirschner’s reputation as one of the leading practitioners in this field. Aside from the zen-like analysis of the piano’s dynamics, you can hear the very density of air from the room in which these recordings were made. It’s a simply magnificent study of microscopic sound phenomena. Very highly recommended.

Terms such as timorousness and hesitancy rarely bring the blood to a bubble. More often than not, emphasis is placed squarely on the confession, on coughing up truths from the unconscious, spilling your guts. Although the microtonal piano and percussion pieces of composer Kenneth Kirschner are pared back and often recede into a charged silence, they don’t exist at the limit of such discourses. Rather, they act as elements which function alongside these more overt declarations. In many ways, Kirschner’s pools of silence act as internal exclusions, integrated absences in and through which Kirschner builds a series of complex, shifting structures, textural and tonal possibilities, moods, and themes. The opening piece, “July 17, 2006,” has a certain way of not-saying things, of using overdubbed sinewaves, panning in and out of the stereofield like a searchlight seeking out an unseen figure, to suggest but not so much distinctly convey a quality of late-night languor and mystery. This piece gives onto the starkly inflected rhythmic weave of “April 27, 2004.” Slowly, and indeed hesitantly, Kirschner builds up lines of electronic sound sprinkled with low impact fluttering events and a coating of flickering DSP effects. Though consisting of some bleak tonal drifts, its shifting, continuous nature, paired with some understated dramatics, makes the work seem vividly alive; what is more, though hesitant, it is not music which implies a lack of confidence, not by any means. Instead, Kirschner carefully controls the duration of each movement—sometimes this becomes a bit apparent, elsewhere Kirschner’s hand is hardly seen—assessing the field, affording compositions more room to breathe or providing some punctuation in the form of digital fragments or stately piano chords. Ergo, these works have a certain lysergic effect: piano notes dwell within a pall of reverb and float like halos while electronic tones leave trails as time slows, the blood smolders, and the real recedes.

MS, E|I magazine
Composer and sound artist Kirschner shows three different aspects of his craft in this mysterious album. The initial "July 17, 2006" is the shorter track and also the most minimal, with very few electronic beams that - alone or in parallel emissions - blemish an apparently impregnable silence. On the contrary, "May 3, 1997" is over 37 minutes long and is characterized by a distinctly oneiric spirit; Kirschner does not specify his sources on the CD cover, but I'm willing to believe that processed field recordings are always his favourite background over which, in this particular case, strange oblique piano phrases - like a cross of Claude Debussy and Andrew Liles in a thick Harry Partch-esque fog - appear and disappear to lull our alertness into a half-catatonic state. From the "pure aural satisfaction" point of view, "April 27, 2004" is my favourite piece; it's a slightly more agitated work, reminding me of the best loop-based music from the nineties in the realm of what we - sometimes superficially - used to define "postindustrial", meaning projects like :zoviet*france: and early Hafler Trio. Kirschner shifts the balance all over the "low-frequency rumble" grey zone, preventing the listeners from abandoning their defenses, forcing them instead to expect a menacing worst that, in reality, never fully materializes.
touching Extremes | 12.2007

Se voulant introduction idéale aux travaux électroacoustiques de Kenneth Kirschner, Three Compositions  sélectionne des œuvres enregistrées ces 10 dernières années. Qui attestent chacune à leur manière d’intentions semblables et saisissantes.
Enregistrée le plus récemment, la première pièce soigne son ambient quiète au son de notes comptées, déposées à intervalles réguliers ou expédiées par paquets, et de silences inévitables (July 17, 2006). Genre de sérénité que Kirschner avait, auparavant, essayé de perturber au moyen d’éléments choisis mais insuffisants – résonances et masses, vrombissements et larsens insinués –, capables quand même de mettre en place une succession d’univers minuscules et indépendants (April 27, 2004).
Tenue éloignée, donc, des cohérences de May 3, 1997: atmosphère déployée entre Neroli de Brian Eno et For Bonita Marcus de Feldman.  Zone de perturbations chastes - piano répétitif et usage de gongs – tournant sur elle-même, qui pourrait résoudre le problème de l’infini après laquelle Kirschner semble courir, si jamais un recours impromptu au « Repeat All » reliait un jour la plus ancienne à la plus récente des trois compositions exposées ici.
www.dmute.net | 12.2007

Ciò che troviamo tra le nuove uscite di casa Sirr è una (ben assemblata quanto 'eterea') raccolta in cui l'outsider Kenneth Kirschner innesta al proprio cuore tre composizioni di una notevole consistenza, in merito a tempo - esteso - e pathos da sfrenato architetto ambient(ale). Un trittico di carezze elettro-acustiche costruite seguendo diverse elaborazioni e accoppiamenti, i cui titoli, con fare spartano e secco, recano semplicemente la data temporale della creazione (ultimata). Una visione globale indica entrambi i brani, come si accennava poc'anzi, all'interno di una corporazione sonora dal tangibile carattere ambient-isolazionista. In taluni frangenti, se non avessi visto presenza esclusiva di piano e percussioni, avrei tranquillamente pensato di udire, con tutta certezza, possenti drones soffiare vorticosamente e infrangersi, a tratti, tra oggetti di metallo, echeggianti e primitivi. E difatti, se a tratti rievochiamo gli spettri di Robert Rich & Zoviet France, possiamo (ri)allacciare la spigolosa mano di Kirschner alla verve oltranzista di un Jason Kahn, personaggio di sicuro 'attuale' nell'emisfero elettro-contemporaneo.
Ragion per cui, notiamo con piacere che il nostro Kenneth aveva già certe idee ben chiare - in fatto di (eco)minimalismo ed elettro-acustica scarna - nel lontano 1997; visto che l'ultimo saggio, il più lungo e irreale, risale a proprio a quegli anni lì.
http://www.kathodik.it

Terms such as timorousness and hesitancy rarely bring the blood to a bubble. More often than not, emphasis is placed squarely on the confession, on coughing up truths from the unconscious, spilling your guts. Although the microtonal piano and percussion pieces of composer Kenneth Kirschner are pared back and often recede into a charged silence, they don’t exist at the limit of such discourses. Rather, they act as elements which function alongside these more overt declarations. In many ways, Kirschner’s pools of silence act as internal exclusions, integrated absences in and through which Kirschner builds a series of complex, shifting structures, textural and tonal possibilities, moods, and themes. The opening piece, “July 17, 2006,” has a certain way of not-saying things, of using overdubbed sinewaves, panning in and out of the stereofield like a searchlight seeking out an unseen figure, to suggest but not so much distinctly convey a quality of late-night languor and mystery. This piece gives onto the starkly inflected rhythmic weave of “April 27, 2004.” Slowly, and indeed hesitantly, Kirschner builds up lines of electronic sound sprinkled with low impact fluttering events and a coating of flickering DSP effects. Though consisting of some bleak tonal drifts, its shifting, continuous nature, paired with some understated dramatics, makes the work seem vividly alive; what is more, though hesitant, it is not music which implies a lack of confidence, not by any means. Instead, Kirschner carefully controls the duration of each movement—sometimes this becomes a bit apparent, elsewhere Kirschner’s hand is hardly seen—assessing the field, affording compositions more room to breathe or providing some punctuation in the form of digital fragments or stately piano chords. Ergo, these works have a certain lysergic effect: piano notes dwell within a pall of reverb and float like halos while electronic tones leave trails as time slows, the blood smolders, and the real recedes.
MS, E|I Magazine