Canadian-born New York-based Kyle Bobby Dunn is a young man who has made somewhat of a name for himself, particularly in the past couple of years, in a field of music which might be dubbed “21st Century Minimal Drone”. In his growing repertoire of orchestral drone arrangements, he constructs sound pieces which encompass details of tone and texture at a seemingly glacial proportion and speed. Explaining his work as having elements of “neo-classical”, his sound is divided between the traditional devices and incantations of classical music and that of a new, strange and structureless future.
In his latest release on Low Point, the double CD A Young Person’s Guide To Kyle Bobby Dunn, he plays the role of composer, performer and also conductor using a methodology which lends interesting characteristics to its output. Taken from recordings of classically trained musicians performing an array of guitar, strings and brass, Dunn ushers his ensemble through rich landscapes of washing sound. The depth and timbre of the elegant instrumentation combined with computer processing creates a rich, organic sensation which is both pacific and haunting, calling to mind other contemporary artists such as Stars of the Lid, Oren Ambarchi and Arvo Pärt.
Dunn for the most part appears to be a modest, if not shy fellow, from a classical background who has largely found his footing in avant-garde circles in the Brooklyn art scene. His compositions are more conceptual than musical, their form intended to project a synthesised moment of existence in an almost cinematic style. Dunn has said that the titles of the tracks are quite specific to him on a personal level. However, seemingly opposing his attempt to harness a particular moment or feeling, it remains elusive to the listener. This is the soundtrack to a film we have not seen. The tone is generally somewhere between both light and dark – never despairing or uplifting, only ever drawing on faint abstractions.
All in all, this is a very nice collection of minimal, enchanting drone pieces which traverses many textural landscapes and valleys in a paradoxical form of stationary transit. As grandiose and sweeping as some of the the compositions may be, they are equally as restrained and understated. Given that this release was somewhat of an expanded version of the digital release of Fervency, the feeling that this release might have been enriched on vinyl rather than a second digital format doesn’t pass unnoticed. Lovers of drone should keep their eyes open for Dunn’s future endeavours.
Camryn Rothenbury
