Curiosity seems to be Hanna Hartman’s drive to record the sounds she features in her work. From the screeches of bats and stretching rubber, to the roar of Formula One engines and the grinding of merry-go-rounds, it feels that there’s an impulse to record abstract sounds we so often ignore. With H^2, Hartman invites us to concentrate on the esoterics of like sounds, combining textures and moods to create a truly immersive experience.
Gentle rolling bells harken the beginning of “Message From the Lighthouse”, as glass sounding drones soon join in quivering nervousness. As what could be a wobbling beam (or a slapped ruler sticking out off a table) takes over, fluttering bird wings, perhaps pigeons, circle around disparate hand percussion strikes. As the rolling bells rejoin the fray, they rattle and jolt, as if being transported on a subway, taiko drums underpinning the din, before the bells quietly roll away, and we’re left with silence. In the spaces between passages, Hartman leaves us to contemplate what we’ve just experienced, and allows the listener to draw their own conclusions. “Lightlock” meanwhile, sounds for all purposes to be an imagined asylum at midnight, echoing with the thoughts of trouble minds. Bows are dragged across strings as rustling whispers roll around bat-like chirps, like a stormy night outside the window. Another gap of silence, and rapid panning over sprinkling water ping pongs through the speakers. Here, Hartman’s deft mixing skills are bought to the fore, sliding sounds here there and everywhere around the sonic spectrum with ease. Vinyl crackles slip in and out like mini waves on a tiny shore. Gradually, all the ingredients from the first half are reintroduced, before disappearing into a moonlight wood, as bats circle overhead. “Circling Blue” begins on a boat, before moving to an Formula One track of all places, where rapidly passing engines are joined by operatic voices. More engines join the fray, while buzzing flies create a synthetic engine of their own. “Borderlines” takes a few minutes of steady building white noise to get going, and is easily the most slow building piece on the album, while “Shanghai Fireflies” sees the return of the wobbling beams of “Message From a Lighthouse”, before stretching rubber smothers the sounds of a marketplace crowd. This piece combines a lot of the sounds featured throughout the album, and bookends the whole edition nicely, as knives dragged over stone are taken over by agitated chickens and rapid speech before the sounds of a playground draw the track to an innocent close.
A highly reflective piece of work, this is material you really need to focus on to reap the rewards, which are many. It is not something you’d play while driving, or cleaning the house; instead, it is art that you devote the whole of your being to, in order to absorb the full extend of the sonics at work. Beautifully constructed, and intriguing to listen to, Hanna Hartman has created true art here.
Nick Giles
