Suspension

Chronique

Once more Oren Ambarchi managed to record a striking album of lowercase electronics. Less stripped-down than his collaboration with Martin Ng (Reconnaissance, on Staubgold), Suspension still belongs to the field of minimal(ist) music. Using guitar and electronics (and the line between one and the other is very thin), the composer has created slow, delicate pieces. The title describes the music appropriately: Everything seems to float in midair, including the listener. This position is not necessarily all that comfortable, but then again, Suspension is not an album for Zen meditation or exercises in Tibetan spirituality. It exists for ears to explore, providing an artistic experience in the most profound sense of the word. Turn up the volume in order to be moved by the occasional sub-bass tones, direct all of your attention to the music, and let yourself be hypnotized. "Wednesday" and "Vogler" are made of half-remembered melodies dissected and reassembled in a way similar to Fennesz' CD Endless Summer (minus the glitches and crackles). These are the busiest pieces. "Suspension" features the sound of a Wurlitzer electric piano with digital treatments. Its fragments of melodies bring to mind some of Andrew Poppy's works. The last piece, "As Far As the Eye Can See," evacuates any allusion to music as we usually conceive it to concentrate on a slow-evolving drone. Suspension confirms Ambarchi's talent and the strength of his musical vision. This music has personality and heart. It moves and stirs. Recommended.
© François Couture /TiVo