Northern Void is Philip Brophy’s highly stylised and highly artificial vision of a post apocalyptic future set on Plenty Rd Preston in the northern suburbs of Melbourne. Whilst some may argue that Plenty rd is already there, with it’s mixture of decrepit factories and curiously bleak facades, it is enjoying something of a renaissance as Melbourne’s housing crisis puts the cool confines of the inner city increasingly out of reach for most.
This disc contains the score for the 50 minute film, composed by the PH2 duo of Melbourne academic and uncompromising sound artist Philip Samartzis (field recordings) and multi media artist Philip Brophy (sampler/ Keyboard). The sounds are dense multi layered field recordings, with difficult pitches and the occasional musical gesture. The soundtrack like the film is split into the Present, Future and Post Future, with a Prologue and Epilogue tacked on either side. Of course it’s not designed to exist without the visuals, yet somehow without the visual distraction it makes some of the compositional decisions feel extremely bold. Field recordings evolve through the music, often taking over. There are typical music concrete gestures, like the gradual swelling of sound to an abrupt cut, yet there’s also some atypical moments such as an almost tribal kit percussion that rises naked through some difficult high pitch glitches. Then there’s contemplative piano that plays on to some strange out of time wooden clacking in a reverberant room. It’s all quite nonsensical, if not a little fascinating, the logic of the compositional decisions frustratingly just out of reach.
The field recordings are incredibly clear and present with the pieces regularly evolving into a certain highly textural density, with multiple sound sources overlaid. What’s most interesting is the way in which this duo combine the musical gestures with the distinctly non musical. There’s an equality between the two which is quite refreshing. Though there’s also perhaps an over reliance on sine tones and difficult pitches of sound, that can at times feel like the diseased chirps electronic crickets, though ultimately becomes quite fatiguing. When these are briefly done away with midway through 3079 the Post Future and on into the Epilogue it feels like the removal of a tension headache. The pieces breathe, and the field recordings are nothing short of dazzling (particularly the cacophony of bats in the Epilogue) as the more musical elements skirt proudly around them. Then midway through the Epilogue the sine tones return and it’s the reminder of impending doom. Of course this all probably means something terribly important when coupled with the visuals, but without them Northern Void is equally a mystifying, beguiling and challenging listening experience.
Bob Baker Fish
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