few and far between |cs138








































DUE, formado por Susann Wehrli (flautas e melódica) e Karin Ernest (laptop e electrónica em tempo real). Wehrli interessa-se pela música da chamada New York School (Christian Wollf, John Cage e Morton Feldman), em particular no que concerne às concepções de tempo e espaço que aqueles compositores desenvolveram, ideias que, no mesmo plano, partilha e confronta com Karin Ernest, outra improvisadora suíça, ligada ao design sonoro, à criação electrónica em tempo real e à composição em computador. Ambas comungam do mesmo interesse pela música contemporânea, escrita e improvisada. A ideia central de Few and Far Between (Creative Sources Recordings # 138) é a de experimentar relações dinâmicas – e de transformação – entre sons acústicos e electrónicos, e abrir espaços à interacção, sem que para tanto haja um ponto de partida apriorístico, nem estrutura formal de suporte ou fórmulas estéticas pré-determinadas. Todas as decisões musicais são tomadas no próprio instante em que são pensadas, num fluxo irregular de acções e reacções em cadeia, como é próprio da composição instantânea. Nesta medida, Few and Far Between apresenta um conjunto de variações temáticas à volta do modo de organização do espaço, de como os pontos se ligam entre si em movimento. Deste modo resultam interessantes sugestões temporais, extensões, distensões, sequências de imagens, símbolos e atmosferas enquadrados num processo em que tanto vale o instante espontâneo, como a construção de formas estéticas específicas. Eduardo Chagas (Jazz e Arredores)

For this set, Susann Wehrli handles flutes and melodica, while Karin Ernst injects digital processing and live electronics. The thirteen tracks here broadly lean towards clean lines and a jabbing style that allows ample space for reflection, but also includes inserts of closer, more urgent playing. From the beginning form is open and sectionalized, with a clear direction that is carried through to the end.
Wehrli alternates brief melody lines with ascending arpeggios on the opener, shaping a succession of minor conflicts and resolutions. The next couple of tracks are both longer, more intricate, but also more generous in their pacing and establishment of repeated patterns alongside somewhat more exploratory passages. On track three, Ernst plays gruff percussive syncopation and aerial atmospherics, which Wehrli offsets with hairline runs, all of which speed up near the end for a slick, facile finale.
In places Wehrli can be seen in fairly conventional territory, stressing a piquant clash of melody and harmony, before passing beyond this horizon into more experimental zones, where she gropes around for variations in emphasis and tone. While she thus plays it fairly safe and straightforward, the two share in a common language, which enables them to switch roles often but without interruption. Wehrli's flute often leads, bobbing in corkscrew patterns, but then she'll deter to Ernst, who'll follow with vibrating tinnitus force fields or percussive blips and thuds. Without fail, there movements towards and away from each other are reassuringly coherent, if not especially inventive.
Darren Bergstein (The Squid's Ear)

“Due” means “two” in Italian, but Susann Wehrli (flutes, melodica) and Karin Ernst (laptop, live electronics) hail from Switzerland. Thirteen improvisations whose structure is instantly visible: Wehrli suggests, Ernst manipulates, both thoroughly respecting each other’s designs and instant modifications. Intelligible ideas abound throughout, the real-time processing applied with a stroke of moderation and, in a way, childish candour so that the music preserves a sort of leprechaun-ish temperament in definite moments (check, for instance, the fourth episode to better understand). A captivating alternance of chiaroscuro-tinged sonic environments and uncertain metamorphoses, never transcending the limits of good taste. These girls seem to share a penchant for gracefulness: their attitude stands poles apart from the glacial standards followed by the large part of computer artists, permeated as it is with humanity, sense of humour and a much appreciated pinch of innocence. A gathering of bits and pieces that results as quite likeable, provided that we don’t expect the new Ten Commandments. Massimo Ricci (Temporary Fault)