Esther Venrooy (E50) : Entr’acte

Esther Venrooy
The Spiral Staircase LP (E50)

The Spiral Staircase is a series of short electronic vignettes that
constitute two vertical progressions. The pieces were composed
during 2006–7 and consist of layered bodies of sound.
Some of the source material was created on the EMS Synthi 100
at the IPEM (Institute for Psycho-acoustics and Electronic Music)
in Gent, Belgium.

Esther Venrooy is a Dutch-born, Gent based composer and sound
artist working in the field of electronic music. After completing her
studies in classical saxophone, she began employing electronic and
digital techniques in pieces for choreography and stage performance
during a residency at the European Dance Development Center in
Arnhem (The Netherlands). She has created site-specific works and
compositions for radio broadcast, as well as for multimedia
performances and installations. Venrooy is also a lecturer on 20th
century music and experimental arts at the Gent school of fine
arts, where she also runs an audio workshop. She presides the
board of (k-raa-k)3 and together with her husband runs Odradek,
an organisation that curates events and releases dedicated to
sound art and innovative or experimental music.

Cut by Rashad Becker at D&M, Berlin. Thanks to Eric Olson at
Process Type Foundry.

First edition of 300 copies.
£10

Massimo Ricci at Touching Extremes

Those fortunate enough to be familiar with the thrilling sensory
overload of Esther Venrooy’s To Shape Volumes, Repeat from
2003 might have a hard time believing that the leisurely drones
of The Spiral Staircase are the work of the same person.
But careful listening reveals the same meticulous ear at work.
The Gent based Dutch composer’s fondness for subtly shifting
warm tones sourced from a vintage EMS analogue synthesizer
inevitably recalls Eliane Radigue, but there are surprises in store
in exquisitely worked found sounds, sprinkled over where you’d
least expect them. There’s a compositional maturity and sureness
of touch here worthy of Feldman, the sense that each sound is
exactly what and where it should be. Entr’acte’s sober packaging
might lead you to expect grey austerity, but the music is as
luminous and richly hued as a Vermeer. In the same way that
he achieved transparency by applying granular layers of paint,
Venrooy’s seemingly simple sonorities are masterly assemblages
of different timbres and tones.

Dan Warburton in The Wire
—

This record — the second from Esther Venrooy heard on these
shores — is so carefully constructed, its components splendidly
deployed in a half-asleep, half-awake trip of sorts, that one
shouldn’t hesitate in defining it as a milestone of today’s
electronica. The Spiral Staircase develops its intelligent charm
through various phases: the first part starts with the marine
ebb and flow of an electronic wave, followed after a few minutes
by a Radigue-like segment of ear-catching low-frequency
radiation. Things get a little more agitated when the contrast
of differently shaped emissions causes a series of intersections
mixing spacey ambiences and slightly harsher quanta of
oscillating action. The impact on the auricular membranes is
seriously effective, our attention instantly captured by the
continuous shifts of weight in the mix. At one point, towards
the end of the side, some measure of vocal interference
blemishes a fantastic undulating drone, a memorable moment
indeed. In the second part a semi-distorted ringing tone
introduces shades similar to the sound of a very distant jet,
then we’re back to the underworld of throb, a constantly
morphing luminescence alternated with a billowing rumble,
the whole slowly fading to a gradually increasing mass of
plumbeous strata. We remain in the company of a constant
note, a repeated pulse whose resonance pervades the room
and surrounds the brain, then a brilliant section with something
akin to a modified cuckoo clock leads to the conclusion,
floating bodies swimming around black stars, yet everything
sounds rather present, almost there to put the fingers on,
until a final loop indicates that our time is over. Too bad.

Massimo Ricci at Touching Extremes
—

The Spiral Staircase is […] comprised largely of modulated drones
amidst other electronic detritus… [The] impression is less one of
detecting something ‘new’ — indeed, many of the sounds have
a familiar aspect — but more with the grace and thoughtfulness
with which the sounds are aligned and juxtaposed. The ringing
throb that begins side one here, waxing every four or five seconds,
is, in a sense, a recognisable enough element but Venrooy manages
to invest it with something, some combination of frequencies, that
endows it with a unique and weighty presence that focuses one’s
attention sharply and immediately. Various other sounds are
gradually layered in, ‘above’ and ‘below’ the initial pulse, generally
possessing a harsher, more granular character, each enhancing
the disquiet. It wells to a climax then subsides into a growling,
steadier drone which, in turn, is encased in a multitude of others,
fashioning a complex matrix wherein the listener can discern at his
or her will a vast number of patterns, reflections and relationships.
Gears are shifted several times throughout the piece, though it
remains drone-centered for the duration and the changes straddle
that giddy territory between initial awkwardness and retrospective
naturalness.

Side Two (it seems to be an entirely different piece, though no
titles are supplied) remains in the general area of dronage but
over in the part of the yard with all the crackling and static. Again,
Venrooy weaves together countless strands, each clear enough to
focus on individually if one desires but better to hear in a relational
manner, something that will doubtless vary upon each listen.
I was often reminded of the ‘standard’ result of Cageian listening
in a given environment: at first you might think there’s only two
or three sound sources in play; listening more attentively inevitably
serves to uncover many more. This construction includes a mélange
of massively deep tolling with wonderfully quirky, almost cuckoo-y
chittering and blooping atop, sending the piece momentarily reeling
off into the middle distance. The disc fades out in a series of ringing
tones not too far from those that opened it, a bit icier but less
foreboding. Very good work.

Brian Olewnick at Bagatellen