Vancouver native, Montréal-based Dolden’s L’ivresse de la vitesse (Drunk on Speed) proved as tantalizing as its title. Completed in 1993, this work came out of the electronic studio, and like the pump of an electric guitar at a rock concert, left listeners with the sort of buoyant exhaustion of having been there when something socially significant took place.

Culling material that covers a decade of work, L’ivresse de la vitesse (“Intoxicated by Speed”) had the effect of a bomb in musique concrète circles. Paul Dolden’s previous album The Threshold of Deafening Silence (1990) already indicated that the composer eschewed traditional tape music esthetics, but this ambitious 2-CD set consecrated him as a new voice. Dolden works with instruments. His compositions are amalgams of partitions, hundreds of them, recorded individually on a wide array of instruments. They are later assembled through pitch, polyrhythmic and textural relations to create high-density pieces that seem to be performed by massive lunatic orchestras. At the heart of the album are three such pieces: Dancing on the Walls of Jericho, Beyond the Walls of Jericho (these two completing a tryptich started on the previous CD with Below the Walls of Jericho) and the title piece. The three works in the Invocation series feature tape parts from the Jericho cycle over which a solo part has been added. Performers include Dolden himself on guitar, Vivienne Spiteri on harpsichord, and cellist Peggy Lee, simply beautiful in Physics of Seduction. Invocation #2. The same method is applied to the title track, transformed into the two parts of the Resonance series, both performed by François Houle (on soprano saxophone and clarinet). An older piece, Veils, concludes the set with a look at the emergence of Dolden’s technique as it is made of acoustic parts and more conventional musique concrète treatments. The energy, richness, and density of the music bring to mind the Vancouver new music big bands NOW Orchestra and Hard Rubber Orchestra — that is to say that it conveys a much more organic experience than more standard tape music. Decadent and subversive, L’ivresse de la vitesse is a classic, a unique form of fin de siècle tape music.

2 CDs in this CD box, on the first one there are 5 tracks on the 2nd one 6 tracks. Listening to the 1st track (CD 1) it seems as I am listening to a jazz-band or a symphony orchestra in overdrive, fast music. The booklet learns us that Paul Dolden is the high priest of crash music. Music where speed is an important part, so our first impression is a good one. Nothing less the music is not always fast it can be symphonic also, as there are tranquil moments when the music has the usual common speed of musical tunes. The style is different sometimes jazzy sometimes symphonic. And even when the music is fast it never starts to become one big mess of sounds. There is in each track a balance between fast and slow moments and a superb use of instruments. Some tracks are build around one specific instrument such as harpsichord, cello, saxophone, electric guitars and other instruments. Yet a complete set of different instruments are used in all tracks. We might call it contemporary jazz symphony. The tracks on CD 2 are somehow different from CD 1, they are more atmospheric. What especially can be said about the last 3 tracks which are atmospherically ambient tracks, thanks to specific recording techniques of acoustic instruments no electronic effects at all.

Double CD wich compiles works dating from 1984-85, such as Veils, to other pieces realized in 1993. The electroacoustic work of this composer stylistically creates a world in wich sound masses linked to crescendi tensions turn into dissolving zigzagging dissonance. As a dynamic interactive tingle leading to sonic novelties, his mixing technique determines the timbric quality of the instrument.

Translated from Spanish.

Canadian electroacoustic composer Dolden champions a ‘theory of excess,’ a belief that the intoxication and seduction of information overload is a desirable condition, one that frees us to perceive the world afresh. L’ivresse de la vitesse compiles nine devastating sonic manifestos to make his point. Several hundred painstakingly scored and multitracked solo acoustic instruments collide to produce a super-dense musical black hole that even Iannis Xenakis would have shied away from. Trying to actually follow the impossible complexity drags you across the event horizon into a world where consciousness survives but meaning has been obliterated. Futile relief comes on a few tracks where virtuoso soloists battle in vain against the taped chaos Nirvana or nihilism? No matter, you can listen to it a thousand times without wanting it to make sense.

Eine DoCD des hochgehandelten kanadischen Elektronikers, die Anfang 1994 erschien, randvoll mit Musik. Die Hälfte der durchweg längeren Stücke sind reine Tapearbeiten, die andere Hälfte um jeweils Solisten ergänzte Tonbandarbeiten. In beiden Fällen hat Dolden hunderte von einzelnen Instrumentalstimmen, vor allem Streicher, aufgenommen und diese dann zu einem gigantischen, quasi zusammengepreßten Orchester übereinandergemischt. Das Resultat nennt er “Crash-Music” . Ungeheuer viel geschieht gleichzeitig, viel mehr als der Intellekt zu erfassen vermag. Differenziertes Hören ist kaum noch möglich, zu dicht das nervöse musikalische Gestrüpp, bis hin zu einer fast unidentifizierbaren Klangmasse. Nur in den eher seltenen ruhigen und leisen Passagen und im wohltuenden Gegenüber der Soloinstrumente zum massiven Dickicht der schier unendlich vielen übereinandergeschichteten Einzelstimmen mag sich das Ohr gelegentlich einlassen. Diese Arbeiten scheinen mir sehr zeitgemäß, entsprechen unserer hochgerüsteten, technisierten und von Informationsmedien beherrschten Welt, in der auf engstem Raum und in kürzester Zeit unüberschaubar viele Daten auf verschiedenen Ebenen gleichzeitig bewegt werden. Dieses unmenschliche Etwas findet sich auch in Dolden’s Musik, wobei er bemüht war, das Unmenschliche noch menschlich zu halten, durch ausschließliche Verwendung traditioneller Instrumente und den weitgehenden Verzicht auf elektronische Verfremdung. Genützt hat es wenig, eher im Gegenteil. Das vorliegende Ergebnis eines immerhin interessant klingenden Konzeptes scheint den immensen Aufwand leider in keiner Weise zu rechtfertigen. Die Musik klingt über weite Strecken kalt, hart, unverbindlich. Es sind zu viele Töne, die vor allem zu wenig Sinn machen. Nicht einmal geschwätzig, sondern einfach gefühls — und beziehungsarm klingt diese Musik. Wohl höre ich einen Plan, aber dieser scheint nicht bis ins Letzte konsequent in jede Linie, jeden Ton, in jede Farbe oder Rhythmus hineinzureichen. Dies ist doch eher ein trübes Süppchen. Wenn ich an György Ligeti s Atmospheres denke, wo alles, jeder Ton und jede Stimme des großen Orchesters, seinen Platz und seine Bedeutung hat, und wo jemand sehr genau weiß, wie er äußerst komplexe und ausdifferenzierte Atmosphären erzeugen kann, dann ist Dolden’s Musik dagegen so blind wie ermüdend. Weder ist sie anregend, noch läßt sie Raum für Gefühle, sie vermittelt lediglich einen Eindruck von schlecht kontrollierter Gewalt. Ich bin nicht sicher, ob Dolden wirklich weiß, was er hier tut. Quantität garantiert nicht Qualität. Hier, scheint mir, hat sich einer übernommen. Man könnte vielleicht eine ideologische Diskussion um Sinn und Zweck dieser Musik führen, aber das wird die Musik selbst nicht ändern.

While many electroacoustic composers strive to create new timbres through synthetic means, Paul Dolden records traditional instruments and madly layers and juxtaposes them with unprecedented intensity. If you were to play several records of chamber music simultaneously at 45 rpm you might come close to the Dolden sound. But while this music may resemble the chaotic results of such experiments, it’s actually quite well controlled and thought out. Physics of Seduction mixes the tape creations with live soloists matching the potent attack and drama of the dense studio tracks. As awe-inspiring as Paul Dolden’s work may be, it does take some degree of endurance to sit through two discs of 15-20 minute pieces. But whether you take the marathon listening route or just eavesdrop from time to time, L’ivresse de la vitesse is an experience everyone with an open ear should attempt.

There really is no other artist working in the same fashion as Dolden and his musical vision is both challenging and refreshing.

There is so much musical output contained on these two discs that it took me several listenings to come to grips with it all. In the liner notes, Dolden describes his current artistic intentions as involving the “speeding up of an excess of musical ideas so that the composition and its materials exhaust themselves in the shortest time possible”. Most of the works here reflect this principle in different ways. Another perceptual factor in listening to these pieces is the manner in which Dolden intersperses pieces for tape alone with works featuring solo performers backed with material from the solo tape compositions. This approach has the twofold effect of emphasizing hitherto unstressed aspects of the tape pieces and also of blurring to some extent the distinctions between the individual works. These considerations aside, Dolden constantly varies his approach, not hewing to a quick-cut, sound-mass approach to the exclusion of linear development.

Dolden first composes simultaneous lines of music on manuscript paper, then digitally records each line as performed by an acoustic instrument. The parts are then digitally mixed with little or no signal processing. His exclusive use of acoustic instruments is justified by his opinion that electronic synthesis techniques are unable to produce a large palette of convincingly different timbres. A huge palette of acoustic sounds are used tor these pieces, including nearly every orchestral instrument, voices, ethnic and folk instruments, and percussion. And although he does not use signal processing, he occasionally achieves DSP-like effects through ingenious mixing of his sound sources. The mixing often involves overlays of 40 or more tracks, and the massed effects and climaxes achieved are impressive. His use of digital editing is equally responsible for the results, as the pace and mood of the pieces are largely controlled this way.

The title cut and the last work in this collection, both for tape alone, could not be more contrasting. L’ivresse de la vitesse (1992-93), encapsulating as it does the composer’s more recent methods, is an exhilarating outburst of contrasting ideas and styles at a rapid-fire pace. Veils (1984-85) is a halfhour, 3 movement composition which explores a sonic world of subtly shifting timbres, comprising drones on acoustic but ambiguous-sounding origin. After the adjustment is made to the leisurely pace of this piece, it is thoroughly satisfying.

With the exception of these two pieces, I gravitated toward the pieces that featured solo instruments because of the focus they provide. This may be because Dolden does not emphasize spatial placement in these wtirks. Often, the sound struck me as completely up-front and two dimensional. No doubt this is partly because he eschews most signal processing,but the overall sound of the acoustic instruments tends to be a little washed-out. Experimenting with different microphones and preamplification should help — quality of engineering is important when this approach is taken, especially when there is extensive mixing and overlaying. The solo instruments help to impart more of a spatial quality. Revenge of the Repressed. Resonance #2 teatures a performance by cellist Peggy Lee which ranges from fleet passagework to elegiac phrases and extended techniques.

The harpsichord part in Physics of Seduction. Invocation #2 takes on a thunderous and threatening aspect in the hands of Vivienne Spiteri, thanks to Dolden’s multitracking and close-miking techniques. Two pieces feature saxophonist/clarinetist Francois Houle. One of these, In a Bed Where the Moon Was Sweating. Resonance #1, strikes a perfect balance between the virtuostic solo clarinet part (often multitracked with amazing etfect) and the tape part with its echoes (or “resonances”) of preceding events.

Physics of Seduction. Invocation #1 features the composer on electric guitar in a technically adept performance which also makes use of the processed timbres which are the domain of the instrument. Dolden shows a flair for these changes of tone. His performance on guitar here gives further evidence of his mastery of the sonic resources at his disposal.

Hal London is a freelance, part-time composer who divides his time equally between acoustic and electroacoustic music. Dolden’s approach in this respect is of special interest to him.

One of my favorites, if only because of the Veils piece. Most of the music on these two disks is a stylistically heterogenous jumble of orchestral, jazz, and choral arrangements—all meticulously assembled from thousands of pre-recorded tracks. Such a grandiose production of acoustic instrument track layering has surely never come before this. Sometimes the instruments are so densely layered they become a storm of harmonics that approaches white noise. The whole compositional temperament—impatient, violent, and spastically bursting and whirling relentlessly—makes me wonder who has the mental energy to listen attentively to the whole length of it, much less labor to compose it. Possibly, it’s brilliant (I should mention that a composer friend of mine thinks these tracks are the most original new music he’s heard in years), but I found it oppressively cluttery. At the tail end of the second CD is the piece titled Veils; another study in multi-tracking which is stylistically the flipside of the coin. Veils is an ambient masterpiece where, atypical of ambient music, genuine compositional events are as important as the arrangement at any given time. No electronic effects were used, but extensive multitracking between 180 to 280 tracks of acoustic instruments is responsible for a consistency and flow of this phenomenal work. Very artfully done.

“What is the speed of music?” says Arthur Kroker in the liner notes of L’ivresse de la vitesse (empreintes DIGITALes, IMED 9417/18) from [Ottawa-born, long time Vancouver-based; now Montréal-based] electronic, guitar, cello and violin performer Paul Dolden. “At what point does music red shift to ultrasonic velocity like all those spectral objects before it, break the sound barrier and then follow an immense curvature towards that point of incredible sound density, where music can finally move at such violent speeds that it can no longer be heard, even by mutant membranes The final pooint, that is, where music breaks beyond the speed of light, falling onto a deep and immense silence.” Yes!

Mr. Dolden has something that is rare and worth preserving: a unique and original point of view. He has sufficient craft and means to realize his point of view, and the results, for the most part, are compelling, and often quite beautiful. His manipulations of sound mass alone probably deserve their own chapter in electronic music texts of the next millennium. But there is a pervasive sense that he is rendered deaf by his own discourse, and that particular directions of the music’s flow have been chosen for discursive rather than musical reasons. For example, “…it is well known to any consumer of media music that in order to be considered artistic you have to have an African percussionist. (program notes)” And therefore, for no other reason, we have manifold layers of hand percussion. Are you being facetious, Mr. Dolden? I can’t tell, and it’s gratuitous either way. But let’s ignore that for now, and concentrate on the music. With the exception of the last work, Veils, which predates the others in this collection by seven or eight years, there is a unified aesthetic and technical approach that finds its best analogy in the huge, thick paintings of the German artist Anselm Kiefer. Layers upon layers upon layers of sound produce an aural canvas in which individual details, if they are audible at all, are rendered inconsequential in the context of the huge gestures that emerge from the composite mass. This is not to say that Paul Dolden’s sound masses wallow in some amorphous homogeneity; rather, he is able to imbue each with a well articulated persona. Thus, in the best of the pieces for solo instrument and tape, a seeeing is created which one hears as a kind of extrapolation (a very long extrapolation) of the historical/social context of the solo instrument. For the cello piece, Physics of Seduction. Invocation #3, with its beautifully voiced C-major chords, the serting is the 19th-century cello concerto. For the saxophone piece, Revenge of the Repressed. Resonance #2, the setting alternates between swing jazz and the music of the French composers who explored the new instrument between approximately 1850 and 1910. For the electric guitar piece, Physics of Seduction. Invocation #1, the setting is ehe extended rock jam session from the late 1960s and early 1970s.

The inclusion of the three-part work Veils in this collection is interesting because it affords us a glimpse into the evolution of Paul Dolden’s sound mass technitque. If the later works are Kiefer, then Veils is protoKeifer, tempered by a healthy dose of Rothko. Veils is about gradual transitions from one timbre/chord to another, and the masses that comprise it are not heard as masses at all, but as completely homogeneous entities. So, even though all the pieces on these two CDs employ the technique of superimposing hundreds of tracks of source recordings in the creation of the sound mass, the sustained nature of the source materials for Veils sharply distinguishes it from the much more active sources for the later pieces. To my mind, however, this work is far and away the most interesting of the four pieces for tape alone in this collection. Perhaps this is because it was apparently motivated by purely musical reasons (at least according to the program notes) — it is completely unencrusted by programmatic subtexts.

I should mention that all of the source materials for the pieces on these CDs are completely acoustic. There is no synthetic material, and extremely little processing. M. Dolden’s reliance on the computer is primarily for its editing capabilities and its ability to mix and bounce tracks hundreds of times without adding significant amounes of noise. Like any technique taken to a logical extreme, this use of the computer transcends the multi-tracking effects possible in the traditional analog studio. To wonder whether or not it qualifies as “computer music” is to miss the point.

Paul Dolden has been touted by many critics as one of the most original and innovative musical voices to take us into the next millenium: a fin de siècle artist. With his emphasis on a maximalist æsthetic, he walks a compositional tightrope by combining traditional western music practices with electroacoustic techniques, non-orchestral instruments, and the energy and drive of popular culture.

Dolden has kept in sight the fact that one can be simultaneously entertained and challenged by the conceptualization of a reality never dreamt of before. One is seduced on many levels: by the virtuosic manipulation of musical language; the myriad gestures, colours, and contrasts; the speed; and the vigorous forcefulness of expression. One can be held in a state of rapture in the presence of music of such unreal beauty, but this sphere of existence continues long after the music stops. The voluptuous sound world of Paul Dolden always leaves one motivated to contemplate oneself and the world in novel and fantastical ways.

Since 1981 Dolden has won eighteen national and international awards for composition. These include three first prizes and a Euphonies d’or at the Bourges International Electroacoustic Music Competition in France, and, most recently, Canada’s Jean A Chalmers Award for his composition L’ivresse de la vitesse. His works have appeared on numerous recordings includinq two solo CDs.

Thomas McLennan: What in your mind creates a good performance of a piece for live instruments and tape?

Paul Dolden: First, you must have a good sound system and everyone must know their musical parts extremely well. Beyond this, a richer musical experience happens when the performers know the tape part extremely well and therefore can play in a manner which seems as if they anticipate or lead the tape’s gestures, colours, rhythms, etc. If the live parts are played with this type of savvy, then the difference between the live part and tape seem to disappear and the two components seem to be working together on the same musical goal or idea. I should say that this illusion is possible only when the writing of the live and tape parts relate to each other timbrally, rhythmically, harmonically, and melodically. What is musically boring is if the performers sound like they are just following the tape, or are “slaved” to the tape.

Could you comment on your reuse of materials in the current works of the Resonance cycle for live performer and tape.

The mother piece for the Resonance cycle is the tape piece L’ivresse de la vitesse. All of the works for live instruments and tape in the Resonance cycle at particular moments allude to, or “resonate,” to the mother piece. This self-quotation is intentional and is an attempt to deal with the balancing of old and new information in the musical discourse. Moreover, it becomes a type of musical play or game of recognition, semi-recognition, and non-recognition. This game plays with musical memory which is the basis of musical structure. In the same way, the Walls cycle uses the Walls of Jericho tape pieces as a basis or “resonator” for the soloist and tape cycle entitled the Physics of Seduction. Invocation #3. Therefore, I am usinq the word “cycle” in its historical sense as each of the cycles could be played in their entirety and produce an evening-length work.

Reflect on musical performance as you perceive its importance to musical language and composition.

It is hard for me to imagine not having the experience of being a performer and trying to be a composer. Instrumental and vocal performance is the living history of musical thought and gesture, and to really understand instrumental writing a background in performance is necessary. Also, during a performance, whether it is for six friends in the front room or more than 800 at a professional concert, there is an excitement, an adrenalin rush, and a certain type of concentration that one can understand as a performer. To write utilizing that energy and style of thought will always lead to more interesting music.

In the last two years, performance, for me, has taken two directions. I no longer play other people’s music. I have learned two of my own compositions, one for guitar and tape, and one for violin and tape. This process has informed me of what it’s like to play one of my scores, and what it’s like to be a soloist with a tape accompaniment. The other type of performance I am doing is free improvising on guitar, violin, and cello. For me this is primarily an exploration of sound and gesture that I keep more private because I do not find it musically profound. It is a process to go through in which i enjoy the discovery of combining notes, sounds, and colours wliich sometimes feeds back into my compositional practice.

How do you retain a balance between the individual character of instruments and orchestration with so many tracks? (For example your work with 400 tracks or musical parts occurring simultaneously.)

First of all understanding orchestration, and secondly, engineering. In terms of orchestration, it is important to understand how each instrument sounds in each register, and what happens when different instruments are combined. This goes beyond a textbook knowledge and requires a good aural memory because there are endless permutations. Important aspects of this are knowing which instruments mask which sounds, and which ones fuse with others at particular dynamics and/or ranges.

After one has created a score of notation, this must be translated to a recorded signal which is well produced. For my music, the most important aspects of engineering are: microphone placement during the recording of instruments; submixing (because I do not have a 400 track board to control levels between different members of the orchestra); and panning and equalization. Panning is not used much because each track is a beautifui stereo image using a particular technique of stereo microphone imaging. What is more important is which instrument receives what type of EQ curve to achieve a particular musical sound.

As far as maintaining the individuality of instruments, my work in the ‘80s was primarily concerned with the concept of the fused sound, therefore there was a decreased emphasis on being able to hear a particular line or instrumental colour. Over the last few years I have become more interested in hearing individual lines or groups of lines in the multiplicity of 400 parts.

Could you comment on your present exploration of twelve-tone equal temperament? And, do you see this continuing?

Tuning has been very important in my work. In the ‘80s I was only writing in microtonal systems, many of which I designed myself. I used just intonation and particular microtonal systems which often meant there would be anywhere from thirty to sixty notes per octave, which led to the fused sound of those works. I do find a certain clarity in twelve-tone equal temperament, and in some ways it almost seems sparse after ten years of microtonal work.

The main reason for the return to equal temperament is that all microtonal systems, I discovered, led to a certain type of stasis. It seems that I have, at this level, reinvented the wheel, because equal temperament was designed to facilitate faster moving harmonic rhythm. My music has gradually become more concerned with harmonic rhythm, so that moving to equal temperament has been quite a natural progression.

I find the return to equal temperament makes writing much easier because everything is instantly transposable and invertible. The problem with many microtonal systems is that when a harmony is inverted or transposed many notes have to be slightly adjusted. So I am able to write much faster now. One of the reasons I left twelve-tone equal temperament originally is because all of the intervals are mistuned except the octave, and you hear this particularly with the more consonant intervals.

However, I am primarily writing fast music these years, so you do not really hear the mistunings, because at higher speeds the ear does not have enough time to register this aspect of equal temperament. I am slowly starting to think about how to integrate my current writing with all of the experience I gained in microtonal music. I am trying to envision a type of music that has a very fast moving harmonic rhythm, but also moves through different types of microtonal ideas, and comes back to equal temperament and keeps moving to avoid that whole static aspect of microtonal systems.

You have stated a belief in the revolutionary potential of music lyinq in the transcendental aesthetic experience or moment. Can this moment live on in the listener/society and develop into something beyond itself?I believe that one of the important aspects of successful aesthetic perception is the search for the ecstatic moment: that moment of the loss of self which we also experience during extended drug usage and during sex. In these moments there is a loss of memory of who you are, what you stand for, what/where you are, etc. What is fascinating about these moments is that they allow for new ideas, visions, feelings, and thoughts to emerge. Now, the aesthetic/artistic experience is unique among these three experiences in that it is a completely safe environment, you can never physically harm yourself.

I would like to think this ecstatic aesthetic experience is always goinq on in every culture. Certainly in western culture/society it has a different emphasis in different art forms, and areas of human endeavour, at different times. At present we definitely live in a film culture as people say to me they go to the film to “lose themselves.” For art music right now, most people do not search out these moments. In fact, the most common response we receive is that we tend to confuse people rather than allow for transcendental ecstatic experiences. But this is a larger social problem because the musical languages we are using are currently unrepresented in the media, which is where most people find out about works of music.

Which composers are your major influences now?

Composers who always inspire me, and will probably always inspire me to write, are Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, Debussy, Mahler, Stravinsky, Bartok, Ligeti, and Berio; and Lutoslawski and Xenakis to some extent. After this I have musical flings with different composers at different times that last anywhere from a few months to a few years. Right now I am very fascinated with Brahms, and with contemporary composers Magnus Lindberg, Robert Saxton, and Alfred Schnittke.

How often do you visit historical structures in your music? What are the forms you create yourself?

When you listen/write/perform music all of the time, inevitably you absorb without thinking the historical structures. For instance, we all speak in sentences and paragraphs, which immediately creates a structure in our verbal discourses. Obviously not all structures are equally fascinating or equally great. I think most historical musical structures operate implicitly in my music and I may not even be aware of them. I am, like most composers, more aware of structures that I think are more original, or at least those I had to spend a certain amount of time consciously thinking about.

Recently, I started writing pieces not knowing ahead of time where I am going, whereas before I would compose the structure first. Currently, I consider how much new information do I keep introducing, and how much information previously in the piece will be repeated or reiterated with variations. It is that tension between old and new material, and working it out, that becomes the structural tension I am conscious of when writing. For the listeners, structure is somethinq to hang their hats on, so I am always aware of the tension between when they are beinq completely confused and when they are kept at the edge of their seats in anticipation.

Explain the extensive relationships that exist in your cornpositional language between melody and harmony, and notes and timbre. Also, how do you accomplish syntax in the field of electroacoustics, where the focus traditionally has been on sound collections?

Good music is always about numerous things — notes, counterpoint, melody, harmony, colour, and structure. Electroacoustic theory over the last few years has created a paradigm for discussing music in which syntax, or the language of music, is contrasted with morphology, which is the actual sound type, including anything from the sound of footsteps, to oboes, to the final textural quality of the sound. Traditional electroacoustic theorists have argued that what makes electroacoustic music special is its focus on morphology, while instrumental music is mainly concerned with syntax. I do not find this distinction new or revealing. I am convinced that good composers throughout history have always been aware of the colouristic possibilities of music making, but perhaps did not have all of the terminology for it that is currently at our disposal. I would suggest that we could select very syntactically based composers such as JS Bach and Brian Ferneyhough, and one could listen (as I often do) to these composers morphologically. That is, listen to their music in terms of changing orchestration, colours, and density. Likewise, one can listen to what is considered morphologically based music — for instance, Francis Dhomont or Edgar Varèse — in terms of note movement and organization.

To place myself on this continuum: I have always been interested in a maximalist aesthetic, in creating music that somehow combines everything. In some ways I am always conscious of both syntax and morphology when composing. For me, a fundamental link between syntax and morphology is harmony. If one listens to a great piece of music in a musical way, then one listens both syntactically and morphologically as the two work together; in other words, one listens harmonically. Let me expand. The question asks about the relationship between the melody and harmony. I have always loved harmony, and often when composing I define the harmony and then create the lines for each instrument from that. You do not need a PhD in contemporary music theory to know that harmonies and chords lead to a morphological way of listening. Specifically, chords lead to fused chords, which lead to fused timbres or fused textures. By working with notes and building harmonies of thirty to fifty note chords with their horizontal/melodic implications, I am in fact defining the morphology. In short, the 400 tracks have a predefined morphological sound, which is the sound of the harmony being articulated by all the lines. Seventy to eighty percent of my 400 tracks in any given piece are traditional western orchestral instruments, the remainder being gamelan, hand percussion, drum kits, electric guitar, and voice (but we are used to choral and orchestral mixtures). So I would say that at one level, morphologically speaking, there is nothing new about my music, it is just extended orchestration. In other words, morphological transformations are a minor compositional strategy in my music. Ultimately the perceived motion is created through syntax: large scale variety, contrast, harmonic direction, different types of counterpoint, and instrumental gestures and articulations.

Dolden, a Canadian sampling fanatic, makes “crash music” on tape, overlaying hundreds of simultaneous overdubbed tracks for an astonishing and utterly original complexity of timbre. This two-disc set of nine works, split between pure tape and pieces for soloist and tape, ranges chronologically back to Veils of 1984-85, whose walls of sound with up to 280 tracks of the same instrument seethe slowly and loudly as though the gates of hell are opening. The harrowing title work (the well named “Intoxication by Speed”) features multiple virtual choruses making strange vocal sounds and several orchestras devolving into military rhythms, rock, and tape loops, while Beyond the Walls of Jericho boasts forests of plucked instruments, impossibly extended glissandos, and armies of percussion. As weary as I am of modernism, Dolden’s apocalyptic hypermodernism so transcends what the 20th century had in mind that it opens up a whole new realm.

Each of the nine works by Vancouver’s Paul Dolden included in this two-disc set was created through a painstaking method, whereby hundreds of individually recorded acoustic tracks are digitally mixed to produce a sonic mass that is often overwhelming in its density. Most intriguing are the richly woven Chalmers Award-winning title work and the shimmering three-movement Veils.

Chacune des neuf pieces électroacoustiques de ce disque du compositeur vancouverois Paul Dolden a été créée grâce au mixage numérique de centaines de pistes sonores d’une densité ahurissante dont la plus séduisante est sans doute celle de Veils pièce en trois mouvements qui lui a valu le prix Chalmers.

Paul Dolden, winner of the composers’ award for L’ivresse de la vitesse, his 15-minute piece for [recorded] orchestra, Eastern instruments, choir and found sound objects, was praised by the jury for producing “an image of music for the next millennium.” A leading figure in Canada’s electroacoustic community, Dolden has had the same piece praised in London and Prague, where it won first prize in the Musica Nova ’94 International Competition.

Jean-François Denis, winner of the presenters’ award, “is central to the growth and success of electroacoustic music in Canada.” He programmed an annual concert series featuring original works and Canadian premieres as a professor of electroacoustic music at Concordia University in Montréal from 1985 to 1989 and is one of the founders of the organization Canadian Electroacoustic Community. Denis’ magazines Contact! and Flash! and recording activities have had a widespread influence.

Most people use the recording medium for purely documentary purposes; Paul Dolden’s project is to highlight the way the recording studio can create ‘impossible’ effects and musical events. This CD finds him multitracking up to 400 tracks of expanded orchestral instrumentation to create a kaleidoscopic music of dazzling complexity.

Dolden’s stunning debut CD worked with the transmuting effect of speed — not speed as an end in itself, but as a gateway into another sonic and textural reality. L’ivresse de la vitesse, by contrast, sounds more conventionally orchestral. Wagnerian vocal passages give way to humour, fragmenration and objection. Aaron Copland and morning-in-America passages move into hyperspeed and cascade into huge, finely detailed washes of sound. Like Conlon Nancarrow or the New Complexity school, Dolden sets different tempos and time signatures against each other. Such a vast amount of musical information demands a new way of listening, the imposition of patterns on apparent chaos.

Spiritually, Dolden seems to have plumped for being a postmodern rootless soul fascinated with surface. “Seduction threatens all orthodoxies with their collapse as it is a blacK magic for the deviation of all truths” he writes in the sleeve notes. He seems able to incite controversy witn ease. Since his appearance at last year’s LMC festival, idle talk has centered on his “objectionable” personality; one composer has even called for Dolden’s music to be banned for its alleged misogyny.

This double CD (selling for the price of a single) also contains a number of works for instrumentalist and tape. Dolden magnifies tne tiny sounds made by the instruments and then uses them to surround the soloist along with his usual orchestral apocalypse. Francois Houle (soprano saxophone, clarinet) and Peggy Lee (cello) both worked on developing the parts and put in excellent performances here. Veils, the final 30 minute track, takes a different tack completely with dense, lush, sustained chords — possibly the final word on drone music, with a closing passage which will make your windows death-rattle.

Dolden’s music is like viewing a landscape from a helicopter, or at Koyaanisqatsi hyper-motion: a postmodern lens through which to view complexity. Do not miss the work of this important “fin de siècle” artist.

The title of Paul Dolden’s first CD, The Threshold of Deafening Silence says a lot about the method and aims of this Canadian electroacoustic composer. As does the title of this new release (it translates as “Intoxication by Speed.” All Dolden’s pieces use mainly acoustic instruments, with in several cases several hundred separate instrumental parts painstakingly multitracked and mixed. The result is music of overpowering density, great contrast and frequently startling and fascinating texture. Several of the cornpositions are for thesed taped instruments only. Others use the impenetrable tapes as backing for solo instrumentalists. For example, Peggy Lee’s cello on Physics of Seduction. Invocation #3 highlights extremes of romanticism and potency, throwing the tape scrum into sharp relief. Dolden’s aim is to bring the listener to a point where the complexity and intensity of the music prevents any orthodox listening response, resulting in a transcendent sensual experience. The admirable CD booklet includes plerity of provocative and thoughtful notes from the composer, but even without the points of entry that it provides, I could hardly fail to be seduced by this astounding album. For anyone who wans to hear new music that doesn’t lack in passion, that addresses the information age in an apt way, that enlists noise, complexity and beauty in its qufft for excess, this is it. There are few other composers whose music even seeks out such awe-inspiring power (Glenn Branca, possibly, although Xenakis also comes to mind), and few other modern composers who can be so effortlessly assured of a place in history.

Paul Dolden, originaire d’Ottawa est tellement prolifique qu’on lui a consacré un coffret double (mais rassurez-vous: pour le prix d’un simple). C’est un univers complètement différent de celui de Normandeau. La musique de Dolden est très souvent violente et révoltée, d’une énergie qui pourra en dérouter plus d’un qui ne voudrait s’attarder qu’à l’enveloppe ou au nombre de décibels. Les 3 Invocations de Physics of Seduction offrent parfois des moments vraiment tendres mais on y chercherait en vain un plaisir dans le «beau son», alors que In a Bed Where the Moon Was Sweating. Resonance #1, pour un peu gauche que cela soit, ne choquera guère par son ton où les citations de geste sont abondantes pour qui a déjà quelque peu frayé avec la musique moins traditionnelle, ou celle de discothèque, dans ce qu’elles peuvent offrir de plus débile.

Ce qui ressort vraiment de ce coffret sont les deux pièces centrées sur le thème de Jéricho. Avec un tel sujet, on imagine bien à quoi s’attendre et on est servi. Mais Dieu que c’est puissant! Surtout Dancing on the Walls of Jericho. On se trouve en présence d’une musique qui, même si elle agresse, nous cloue sur place — si on l’écoute attentivement — et nous fait découvrir, enfin, que l’appel de Baudelaire n’est pas resté vain.

Vous pourrez aussi découvrir, sur la même étiquette des œuvres de Wende Bartley, Gilles Gobeil, Mario Rodrigue, Randall Smith et Roxanne Turcotte.

Okay, so your X’mas victims have wrapped their heads around musique actuelle but you’re worried because now they want to get into electroacoustics. Fear not, for Vancouverite Paul Dolden is the missing link between Jean Derome and Robert Normandeau, or Glenn Branca and Einstürzende Neubauten, for that matter. Dubbed “crash music” by Dolden-champion Arthur Kroker, the best of the composer’s beautiful and bombastic stuff is collected in this two-CD set, which is part of a recent slew of seven discs released by the premier Montréal electroacoustic label. (8/10)

Un discorso un pò diverso può essere fatto per il CD di Dolden. Anche qui la complessità strutturale é impressionante: si tratta di registrazioni multitraccia di partiture relative a diversi strumenti, soprattuho acustici e per la maggiar parte suonati dal compositore stesso, che creano un vortice sonoro notevole, di grande impatto e originalità. Devo dire che questi brani mi hanno lasciato in alcuni momenti a bocca aperta per la loro capacità di creare immagini quasi tridimensionali, nelle quali l’ascoltatore si sente trascinato e, scusate se esagero, ma é stata la mia impressione personale, atterrito, soprattutto a causa dell’elevata pressione sonora e dell’incredibile dinamica della registrazione (inutile dire che l’ascoito ad elevato volume con altoparlanti é un must). Interessanti sono le motivazioni concettuali che l’artista si premura di abbinare ad ogni brano, che sicuramente dimostrano un pensiero eclettico, non privo di legami con certa critica della modernità e alcune teorie tantriche (soprattutto sul concetto di velocizzazione ed esaltazione degli elementi dissolutori, per spingersi oltre il punto di non ritorno).

Che altro aggiungere? Innanzitutto che i Cd empreintes DIGITALes sono in generale di facile (con le dovute riserve) reperibilità, anche qui da noi.

Enfin, pourrait-on dire, un musicien imaginatif et bien formé qui sait utiliser le matériau sonore à des fins artistiques et possédant une véritable personnalité de créateur, de l’originalité, du souffle, de l’intelligence. Rares sont les véritables compositeurs qui œuvrent avec ce médium difficile qu’est l’électroccoustique. Rodrigue exprime bien ses intentions sur la manière d’appréhender le matériau, dans cette phrase se rapportant à sa pièce Tilt (première pièce sur ce compact), qui est l’enjeu d’une partie de machine à boule: «l’électroacoustique m’aurait permis d’enregistrer les sons d’une de ces machines et d’y appliquer les transformations propres au médium, mais j’ai plutôt utilisé une vision subjective travaillant le propos d’une façon plus musicale qu’anecdotique en créant une machine imaginaire.» Si l’ensemble des textes de la pochette est truffé d’erreurs de français, il reste que cette phrase résume l’essentiel de ce qui différencie la musique de Rodrigue de celle, par exemple, de Roxanne Turcotte. Mentionnons par ailleurs que Tilt a obtenu le Grand Prix toutes catégories ainsi que le Premier prix de la catégorie électroacoustique au 7^e Concours des jeunes compositeurs de Radio-Canada en 1986. Le travail de Rodrigue est minutieux, soigné, évocateur et sébuisant pour l’oreille sans être accrocheur, et surtout, il s’en dégage une «musicalité» qui n’est pas celle de l’art instrumental mais qui a une valeur intrinsèque. Cristaux liquides (1990) est une poésie sonore superbement évocatrice inspirée par les différents états de l’eau. Qu’est-ce concert? (1987) évoque pour sa part différents paysages sonores, anecdotiques ou virtuels, présentant des concerts entremêlés. Le voyageur (1993) et Fiano porte (1985) nous mettent respectivement en contact avec des univers céleste ou citadin, puis avec un monde de contrastes (rêve/réel, fluide/statique, doux/fort) qui s’exprime merveilleusement à travers les sons utilisés par le compositeur. Bref, un enregistrement qui est aussi un soulagement.

L’ivresse de la vitesse de Paul Dolden. La principale caractéristique du travail de ce canadien est de composer à partir d’éléments acoustiques (provenant de plusieurs instruments) enregistrés et transformés uniquement par le mixage, l’accumulation de couches sonores. On va parfois jusqu’à 200 couches de sax ou de percussions. Le résultat d’une puissance unique est très original. Il y a vraiment une dimension rock qui sort de cette musique, une dimension purement physique du son. Une musique entièrement, uniquement permise par l’enregistrement; impossible à réaliser en direct. D’autres pièces travaillent plus sur l’accord des instruments et évoquent parfois le travail de Phill Niblock. Le titre L’ivresse de la vitesse correspond parfaitement au contenu. Voici venue l’ère du Speed Crash.

• Andrew Lewis, Contact!, no. 10:1, September 1, 1996
• Steven & Alan Freeman, Audion, no. 33, September 1, 1995