You have to wonder when or even if Melbourne multi media artist Philip Brophy sleeps thanks to his outrageous output, whether it be via his music as presented here, art projects or live performances. This is his second collection of music for film and features a vast array of techniques for some very different films. Of course not having seen the films puts you at a distinct disadvantage because if they work purely on musical terms then odds are they may call unwanted attention to themselves when placed with images.
One thing becomes apparent immediately, Brophy isn’t married exclusively to one approach or set of ingredients. Many of the pieces feel like they could come from totally different artists. The first track, Anyone Home, a piece to reflect the emptiness of the archetypal 1960’s Japanese modern apartment is spare and repetitive, utilisng simply drums and guitars, overlaying the plucking to reference kotos. The second a poetic animation from the same director Rosemary Dean, in which he elects to strip back things even more, one keyboard note reverberating into space that slowly develops into a few note run. The next, Whispering in the Dark is much more electronic sounding, highly processed with fragmented almost vocodered warbling vocal and percussion. He continues in an electronic vein on Maidenhead, slowly moving through some quite disparate electronic worlds going from field recordings to banging techno. This piece is the story of this collection right here. Who knows where the music will go next. Brophy, who previously wrote for the Wire on modern film soundtracks, taught a course in it at RMIT and previously arranged the Cinesonic conference would no doubt say that each film necessitated a different approach and different ingredients, however whilst it may be so this collection suggests that he gets much joy in constructing new sound worlds. The final work comes from Only the Brave, from Anna Kokkinos (Head On), a four part suite that is the busiest and densest works here. They have a messy, almost funky 70’s feel to them, possibly thanks to the rubbery synth bass he employs on Dream Lands. Yet it’s coupled with some strange repetitive manipulated vocal sounds, emphasising some of the experimental techniques at play and offering a peculiar glacial feel. Hell even these four final pieces sound like four different composers.
Taken from films between 1993 and 2005 it really demonstrates Brophy’s ability to be a musical chameleon, to approach each projects on its merits, and using the project to dictate what the music needs.
Bob Baker Fish
