What was realized by sound artist Christina Kubisch in the Milan of 1983 remains of lasting intoxication. Collaborating with a wealth of others, Kubisch employed an array of methods and condensed and accelerated them into an exhilarating flood of sound, a sound that is now generally recognized as sound art. Of particular concern were sound colors, and the expansion and reconfiguration of a listening space through musical structure hinging upon layers of field recordings.
As a result, pieces such as “The Cat’s Dream” unfurl gradually, managing to stand in a state of constant renewal, bereft of any apparent discontinuity or rupture. Although the pieces, specifically in their pacing, oftentimes lean towards being intoxicating, the content itself is aesthetic, not anaesthetic, invigorating rather than numbing. Subtle and surprising gradations of difference bear weight conventionally assigned to more predictable structures with fixed centers, cumulative progression and culminating points. The aforementioned track possesses a stealthy brimming richness, incorporating the feral microtonal inflections of swirling siren-like sounds and flute whistles into a network of shuddering tendrils of static, which are accentuated by tiny patterns that shake and shiver in the upper reaches of the piece. Evident on a continuous basis is the ample care and management that has gone into the physicality of the field recordings and the long vibrating sounds of tubular bells, as they beat wonderfully against the disembodied ghostliness of the rest of the atmosphere. On the title track, too, the way the music counterpoints the ambient sounds, interior and exterior, is a wonder to hear.
“Circles III” brings the proceedings to a close. The piece is based around a dodecaphonic scale, repeated three times, in which the substitution of the fundamental notes for their harmonics creates a wealth of variation. Additionally, the digital delay repeats the voice of Roberto Laneri along with the flute of Kubisch, generating shimmering waves that wash over the music in a rapturous manner. A reminder of the nuanced subtleties of power, Night Flights has aged well indeed.
Max Schaefer
