Italian Nicola Ratti’s music on Ode is subtle, with only vague structural outlines, a push in a certain direction and its up to the listener to join the rest of the dots. On the opening piece White Morning, the double bass just appears periodically unannounced for a few note run, like it’s making an important statement and then disappears again, meanwhile the guitar strums gently along to its own meandering rhythm and everything feels comfortably out of place, meaningfully meaningless or perhaps more to the point meaninglessly meaningful. His music feels loose, some sort of abstract refinement of electroacoustic music, semi improvised, the piano, guitar, double bass and sparse percussion, trading on their jazz ancestry, yet played like half the ensemble didn’t show up, with a rare kind of space that forms new melodies, new structures, new textures. The music possesses a stillness and grace despite some occasional electronics and experimental techniques. The final piece Tropical Malady seems to use looped environmental field recordings, drones and experimental guitar to weave together this highly textural electronic piece that feels earthy, somehow organic. It’s the loose fragility of the music that affords Ratti the ability to imbue these new forms with an incredible amount of emotion, with much of Ode resonating with a slight yet tender melancholy. Ode provides an insight into film music could be if it wasn’t so caught up with itself, not only is it rare, dignified, and new, in just a few seconds with minimal means he conveys much more complex emotional information than most composers could hope to touch upon in a lifetime.
Bob Baker Fish
