Review by David Murrieta Flores on A Closer Listen
Published July 31, 2021
Published July 31, 2021
How do we relate our everyday experiences with the greater panorama of life in this planet, beyond the rationalizations of ecological measures or the unique, sudden shocks of environmental catastrophes? Nicholas Maloney offers Stilling as a reflection on synchronicity, on being on time with the rhythms of occurrences magnitudes greater than any sort of individual human activity. It is the result of a commission for a concert series postponed indefinitely due to the ongoing pandemic, yet another disaster that has widely revealed the limits of our cultural capacity to connect simple actions with great effects; nonetheless the two fields constantly cross, and in these recordings the artist articulates a powerfully intuitive way to frame that intersection. As a sort of aural still life, the album allows listeners to dwell on the interactions between sounds of various sources, which sometimes drone peacefully away, sometimes clash intelligibly, sometimes simply become complementary tones, and so on.
Stilling is divided into two movements. The first focuses on sounds from Maloney’s daily life, particularly those that come, one way or another, from systems that directly impact natural resources, such as garbage collection trucks or home water and gas lines. Coupled with ambient sounds sourced from his own house (among others of similar kind), these elements are collaged by the artist into a deeply textured form that recalls background noise. It is the noise of urban innards, the simultaneously calming and disturbing soundscape of all the machines and buildings that sustain our collective living. They establish patterns and create networks of interactions that conform the rhythms with which we connect to each other, manipulated here by the artist into a composition that does not let us simply identify each element and give them definite roles.
Being on time with one another is a continual exercise of impossibility, like entering a clock shop and realizing that even after continual adjustments every device will slightly differently tell time in the end. All these aural patterns trace human impact, processes in which perfect synchronization does not exist, suggesting that every single day we are both on and off time, that the crackle of a pepper grinder is connected to the drone of a water pipe as part of a rhythmic daily movement unique in every instance, apparently in sync but always just at the edge of collapsing into an altogether distinct register.
That register could be encompassed by the wider interactions within large-scale phenomena, introduced in the album’s second movement. Storms, strong winds, forests, rivers, crowded public spaces, traffic, and samples from around the world form the core of a much more expansive soundscape, generally more stable and full of noises that tend to endure. Overall, this movement has a more meditative tone; where the first quickly shifts and pulls the listening ear around, the second lets it rest, changing at a much slower pace and integrating its elements calmly. Maloney’s intention to “zoom out” into a global perspective plays out as a contrast, as the exploration of other sorts of patterns whose repetitiveness and drawn-out changes have another relationship to time. It is not measured in hours and days but decades and centuries, a trace of human impact large enough to be thought of as historical, no longer everyday, as well as of natural events that continually resist prediction, which is to say that they continually remain outside our own rhythm-keeping.
The undercurrent that connects the first and second movements is sound collage, and collage by definition breaks any sort of logical flow, brining together things that cannot “naturally” occur together. This fundamental breaking of the “rules” of time through artistic technique reveals the stilling at the heart of this work: to be on time, from the perspective of the totality, is to freeze everything in place, to cut everything up into unmoving bits we can control. We are always out of time: the rhythms of everyday life exceed us in the same ways that the rhythms of societies or nature do, because their connections are graspable, but never fully understandable. As the planet warms up and the climate changes, it is easy to see that rift, just as the blind inertia of history yet moves us toward failure to react in time.
Maloney has crafted something special here, something that treads the territory of a sound art that immediately pushes listeners not to immersion into a particular soundworld but into the vibrancy of the entire world itself. Listen carefully, integrate it into your own rhythm, and feel the process warmly lead you toward discontinuity with your surroundings.
Stilling is divided into two movements. The first focuses on sounds from Maloney’s daily life, particularly those that come, one way or another, from systems that directly impact natural resources, such as garbage collection trucks or home water and gas lines. Coupled with ambient sounds sourced from his own house (among others of similar kind), these elements are collaged by the artist into a deeply textured form that recalls background noise. It is the noise of urban innards, the simultaneously calming and disturbing soundscape of all the machines and buildings that sustain our collective living. They establish patterns and create networks of interactions that conform the rhythms with which we connect to each other, manipulated here by the artist into a composition that does not let us simply identify each element and give them definite roles.
Being on time with one another is a continual exercise of impossibility, like entering a clock shop and realizing that even after continual adjustments every device will slightly differently tell time in the end. All these aural patterns trace human impact, processes in which perfect synchronization does not exist, suggesting that every single day we are both on and off time, that the crackle of a pepper grinder is connected to the drone of a water pipe as part of a rhythmic daily movement unique in every instance, apparently in sync but always just at the edge of collapsing into an altogether distinct register.
That register could be encompassed by the wider interactions within large-scale phenomena, introduced in the album’s second movement. Storms, strong winds, forests, rivers, crowded public spaces, traffic, and samples from around the world form the core of a much more expansive soundscape, generally more stable and full of noises that tend to endure. Overall, this movement has a more meditative tone; where the first quickly shifts and pulls the listening ear around, the second lets it rest, changing at a much slower pace and integrating its elements calmly. Maloney’s intention to “zoom out” into a global perspective plays out as a contrast, as the exploration of other sorts of patterns whose repetitiveness and drawn-out changes have another relationship to time. It is not measured in hours and days but decades and centuries, a trace of human impact large enough to be thought of as historical, no longer everyday, as well as of natural events that continually resist prediction, which is to say that they continually remain outside our own rhythm-keeping.
The undercurrent that connects the first and second movements is sound collage, and collage by definition breaks any sort of logical flow, brining together things that cannot “naturally” occur together. This fundamental breaking of the “rules” of time through artistic technique reveals the stilling at the heart of this work: to be on time, from the perspective of the totality, is to freeze everything in place, to cut everything up into unmoving bits we can control. We are always out of time: the rhythms of everyday life exceed us in the same ways that the rhythms of societies or nature do, because their connections are graspable, but never fully understandable. As the planet warms up and the climate changes, it is easy to see that rift, just as the blind inertia of history yet moves us toward failure to react in time.
Maloney has crafted something special here, something that treads the territory of a sound art that immediately pushes listeners not to immersion into a particular soundworld but into the vibrancy of the entire world itself. Listen carefully, integrate it into your own rhythm, and feel the process warmly lead you toward discontinuity with your surroundings.
Review by Gert Derkx of Opduvel
Published May 3, 2021
Published May 3, 2021
[Translation from Dutch to English:]
The sounds and music on Stilling , recently released by Somewherecold Records, have something intangible about them. This is part of the charm of the two soundscapes that Stilling has , but it also makes you long for an understanding of what you hear. Fortunately, Maloney explains on his bandcamp page what his work is about. The work was commissioned by Crosstown Arts in Memphis, Tennessee and was to be performed during the concert series A Change of Tone Music Exhibition in April 2020. Corona did not make it that far. The theme of the series was to be and not be in sync.
What does that mean? Maloney struggled with that question, and it led to a two-part work that focuses on sound in relation to synchrony in Maloney's subjective micro-level human experience (exploring everyday experiences and mood swings, especially as they relate to the immediate environment and the eternal, fluctuating environment) and at the macro level (exploring environmental phenomena on a larger scale, that is, temperature shifts, extreme weather, as well as shifts between feelings of inner peace and fear in relation to Maloney's views of the immediate now.
In 'Movement 1', the American focuses on micro-environmental sound, focusing on sounds related to Maloney's interaction with man-made things that cause change in the larger environment, be it positive or negative. The second part deals with macro environmental noise and Maloney recorded sounds produced by large-scale natural and human phenomena. When listening to both parts, the differences are immediately noticeable. 'Movement 1' is directed more inward, where 'Movement 2' audibly refers to the surroundings, outside sounds.
The first part is the most abstract on several levels. Sounds are recognizable, but often unrecognizable and together they regularly form music in the ambient / drone spectrum. The combination of electronic sounds and natural sounds is an exciting one, not least because the musical route can change at any time. The sound of water plays an important role in both 'Movements': in its natural state (running water and rain in the second part) and as a result of human action (water being sucked into the sink in the first part).
'Movement 2' is more of a natural representation of sounds than 'Movement 1'. The natural phenomena from forests, fields and rivers are clearly recognizable, as are the sounds of storms. However, the boundary between micro and macro has not been drawn tight. In the first part, for example, sounds of nature can also be heard and in the second part, sounds of human actions, such as traffic noise.
Especially in the first part, Maloney does not aim to 'please' the listener with a soundscape that fluctuates organically, changes color or increases or decreases in layering. It is often a matter of guessing the origin of the sounds and fragments. It is an abstract story without a main moment, without a plot, but with a certain flow that ensures that you continue to listen fascinated. Voices sound and electronic sounds float, crackle, echo. The soundscape sometimes sounds almost orchestrated, at other times it is small, minimal. Maloney always manages to amaze with his original combinations of sounds, especially when they seemingly have nothing to do with each other but turn out to color well together in the musical arrangement.
It is beautiful how in 'Movement 1' the human voices are distorted, causing them to float through the musical landscape like spirits and diffuse the dividing line between voice and electronics, but the highlight of that first work is as Maloney with natural and non-natural noises just erects a large wall of sound. It doesn't take long, but the impact is great, also on the part with fast bird noises and electronics that follows and with which the musician does it again thinly with a run-up, now with a completely different timbre. Maloney builds up and breaks down and after intense tension a serene calm follows when the electronics keep quiet for a while (but are still present) and natural sounds predominate.
This ties in with 'Movement 2' in which the major role of flowing water is striking. It is especially impressive how only that sound plus some natural sounds around it lead to a thrilling listening experience. It is also really exciting to listen to the sound of increasing wind and heavy rain, to follow the movements and to try to interpret them. It is certainly not a calm soundscape that you can undergo unaffected. The piece has a lot of dynamism, is unpredictable and, above all, intriguing. The human contribution is particularly evident in the second half of the play.
With Stilling, Maloney creates a work that takes 86 minutes in its entirety, captivates from start to finish and satisfies both intellectually and emotionally. It is a personal piece of work that every listener can experience in his own way. The detail ensures that new elements in the soundscapes reveal themselves even after several spins. In any case, Opduvel is far from over listening to this addictive piece of sound art.
The sounds and music on Stilling , recently released by Somewherecold Records, have something intangible about them. This is part of the charm of the two soundscapes that Stilling has , but it also makes you long for an understanding of what you hear. Fortunately, Maloney explains on his bandcamp page what his work is about. The work was commissioned by Crosstown Arts in Memphis, Tennessee and was to be performed during the concert series A Change of Tone Music Exhibition in April 2020. Corona did not make it that far. The theme of the series was to be and not be in sync.
What does that mean? Maloney struggled with that question, and it led to a two-part work that focuses on sound in relation to synchrony in Maloney's subjective micro-level human experience (exploring everyday experiences and mood swings, especially as they relate to the immediate environment and the eternal, fluctuating environment) and at the macro level (exploring environmental phenomena on a larger scale, that is, temperature shifts, extreme weather, as well as shifts between feelings of inner peace and fear in relation to Maloney's views of the immediate now.
In 'Movement 1', the American focuses on micro-environmental sound, focusing on sounds related to Maloney's interaction with man-made things that cause change in the larger environment, be it positive or negative. The second part deals with macro environmental noise and Maloney recorded sounds produced by large-scale natural and human phenomena. When listening to both parts, the differences are immediately noticeable. 'Movement 1' is directed more inward, where 'Movement 2' audibly refers to the surroundings, outside sounds.
The first part is the most abstract on several levels. Sounds are recognizable, but often unrecognizable and together they regularly form music in the ambient / drone spectrum. The combination of electronic sounds and natural sounds is an exciting one, not least because the musical route can change at any time. The sound of water plays an important role in both 'Movements': in its natural state (running water and rain in the second part) and as a result of human action (water being sucked into the sink in the first part).
'Movement 2' is more of a natural representation of sounds than 'Movement 1'. The natural phenomena from forests, fields and rivers are clearly recognizable, as are the sounds of storms. However, the boundary between micro and macro has not been drawn tight. In the first part, for example, sounds of nature can also be heard and in the second part, sounds of human actions, such as traffic noise.
Especially in the first part, Maloney does not aim to 'please' the listener with a soundscape that fluctuates organically, changes color or increases or decreases in layering. It is often a matter of guessing the origin of the sounds and fragments. It is an abstract story without a main moment, without a plot, but with a certain flow that ensures that you continue to listen fascinated. Voices sound and electronic sounds float, crackle, echo. The soundscape sometimes sounds almost orchestrated, at other times it is small, minimal. Maloney always manages to amaze with his original combinations of sounds, especially when they seemingly have nothing to do with each other but turn out to color well together in the musical arrangement.
It is beautiful how in 'Movement 1' the human voices are distorted, causing them to float through the musical landscape like spirits and diffuse the dividing line between voice and electronics, but the highlight of that first work is as Maloney with natural and non-natural noises just erects a large wall of sound. It doesn't take long, but the impact is great, also on the part with fast bird noises and electronics that follows and with which the musician does it again thinly with a run-up, now with a completely different timbre. Maloney builds up and breaks down and after intense tension a serene calm follows when the electronics keep quiet for a while (but are still present) and natural sounds predominate.
This ties in with 'Movement 2' in which the major role of flowing water is striking. It is especially impressive how only that sound plus some natural sounds around it lead to a thrilling listening experience. It is also really exciting to listen to the sound of increasing wind and heavy rain, to follow the movements and to try to interpret them. It is certainly not a calm soundscape that you can undergo unaffected. The piece has a lot of dynamism, is unpredictable and, above all, intriguing. The human contribution is particularly evident in the second half of the play.
With Stilling, Maloney creates a work that takes 86 minutes in its entirety, captivates from start to finish and satisfies both intellectually and emotionally. It is a personal piece of work that every listener can experience in his own way. The detail ensures that new elements in the soundscapes reveal themselves even after several spins. In any case, Opduvel is far from over listening to this addictive piece of sound art.