Un’insieme di nitide segnalazioni elettroacustiche in statica sospensione chiaroscurale. Il paesaggio urbano di sette città, osservato mutar nel corso di dieci anni, fra decadimento, nuova bellezza e reinterpretazione. Dodici tracce, figlie dell’inclusione del compositore elettroacustico canadese, nel decennale progetto espositivo del connazionale Derek Besant. Bouchard, procede lasciando propagar nel vuoto, l’acustico ridefinito e l’accentuato ronzamento dronante di malinconiche prese elettriche. Raga concentrici in disgregamento calcinoso, fotogramma dopo fotogramma. Consuetudini di passaggi vocianti in montaggio. Manco uno sputo sulla stronza terra, frequenze modulari e qualche eccesso astral/descrittivo.

It’s a real pleasure to present a new instalment in my occasional series The Dialogues. This episode is in conversation with composer Monty Adkins, whose music I’ve written about many times on 5:4 and hold in very high regard. Our discussion explores a wide range of topics, including the fundamental aspects of Adkins’ compositional aesthetic, the history and development of his practice, the influence of visual art throughout his output alongside musical influences, considerations of beauty, narrative vs abstract approaches to composition, the relationship between and implications pertaining to ‘authentic’ and artificial sonic environments, types of listening, perceptions of time, notions of the sacred, the imposition (and benefits) of compositional restrictions, the organisation / structuring of non-teleological music, combining electronics with live instruments, and Adkins’ relationship with the listener.

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I want to thank Monty for generously giving me so much of his time, and for being prepared to talk so openly (and for so long!) about his life and work. The trajectory his music has taken over the last twenty years is markedly different from many involved in electronic music, and I hope both newcomers and long-standing fans of his work will find our discussion as fascinating and illuminating as I did.

[…] Broken Ground was commissioned for the Broken Ground exhibition by Derek Besant, that has been presented on various locations since 2012 (in 2017 in Madrid, in 2018 in Tokyo). The exhibition “looks at seven cities over ten years, and how redevelopment infrastructure changes our perception of cityscapes. The collision of the imaging with Christian Bouchard’s electronic soundtrack builds the exhibition installation into a hypothetical representation of the constant change cities are in over time, and how components leave traces or clues to the ones that might have existed here… Even in destruction, there lies the possibility for beauty and reinterpretation.”

The relation with cities, cityscapes and redevelopment infrastructure may suggest that the basic material for these soundscapes might be taken from environmental and location recordings. In fact there are no recorded sounds in Broken Ground – all sound sources are electronic. The sound samples were completely dissected and augmented to create a new sound environment to accompany the exhibition completing “a hypothetical representation of the constant change cities are in over time, and how components leave traces or clues to the ones that might have existed here…”

In 2016, the music was remixed to prepare it for this release.

Broken Ground wurde vom Kanadier Christian Bouchard bereits in den Jahren 2011 und 2012 erarbeitet und auf verschiedenen Asstellungen aufgeführt. Nun erscheint das einstündige Werk, bestehend aus zwölf Teilen über empreintes DIGITALes.

Die wuchtige Arbeit kommt mit dunklen, um sich kreisenden elektronischen Drones daher, die durch sägende Elektronik und breiten Keyboardflächen begleitet werden. Dazu mischt Bouchard Stimm — und Geräuschsamples sehr effektiv ein. Die aus diesen Zutaten entstehenden Landschaften sind dunkel, kalt und gotisch. Sie verbreiten die Atmosphäre eines dunklen Horrorfilmes, der auf irgendeinem gottverlassenen Planeten weit draußen im Universum spielt. Mir kommen beim Hören lange, weiße Gänge mit flackerndem Neonlicht, zischende automatische Türen, leise ratternde Computereinheiten und leere Kommandoräume von fast vollständig verlassen Raumstationen in den Kopf. Und aus der Dunkelheit des Raumes kündigt sich die unsichtbare, aber tödliche Gefahr für die wenigen, letzten Humanoiden an.

Andere Beschreibungen fallen mir gerade für die trotzdem sehr faszinierenden, eben weil so bldreichen Sounds dieses spannenden Elektronikwerkes nicht ein.

Der Klang hat eine unschlagbare Brillianz und Räumlichkeit. Bei jedem Hören wird man immer wieder neue Ecken und Inhalte des Raumes entdecken und leicht variierte Fassungen seines eigenen Kopfkinos zu diesem überwältigen Soundtrack bekommen.