Canadian composer Robert Normandeau comes from a distinctly academic
background, with degrees in Electroacoustic Composition, a fistful of
international "contemporary music" prizes and a CV filled with commissions
and residencies. But Normandeau is also no stranger to crossing the
invisible membrane between the world of university appointments and composer
conferences and the more challenging side of pop culture electronic music,
getting involved with Asphodel Records' Recombinant festival some years back
and now releasing this collection of "acoustimatic" compositions on the
Rephlex label. Perhaps that's because Normandeau seems to have mastered a
challenging feat -- combining truly exploratory sound manipulation, creation
and compositional structures into works that are still engaging outside of
their theoretical frameworks. In other words, they're actually interesting
to listen to.
Sonars collects six works, spanning fourteen years, from 1985 to
1999. Despite the wide time frame in which Normandeau created these
compositions, the CD is surprisingly coherent and unified. Each piece is a
seamless continuum between dramatically artificial and dislocated organic
sources. You're continually confronted with roiling cascades of chiming
synthetics -- sounds that seem entirely unnatural at first listen. With
closer attention, the layers of artificiality and resynthesis are peeled
away, revealing the source material (in many of these pieces, wordless
vocalizations and mouth sounds). Carefully calculated, this play between
the natural and the synthetic draws you deeper into each piece, inviting you
to listen and analyze each fragment. The earlier works on this collection
seem more self-consciously dramatic ("Le cap de la tourmente", for
example). While this is not necessarily disappointing, they're not as
subtle, layered or perhaps internally referential as some of the more
recent pieces. 1999's "Ellipse" is especially satisfying, creating a
mysterious soundscape of half-defined scraping and scratching, suggesting
strings, contact microphones, late night movement in your walls...
Each piece is nonlinear, self-sustaining and self-propelling -- they're
consistent in their sonic language, and attentive listeners will hear and
sense the progression and development in the composition without Normandeau
ever stooping to draw an explict line from one to the next. These aren't simple works, however,
and they'll not be for everyone. Normandeau doesn't entirely shy away from
rhythmic construction like some in academic Electroacoustic music, but listeners seeking the more explictly beat-oriented material of Rephlex, or more
traditional song structures, will be left scratching their heads. Dispense
with those expectations and you'll be richly rewarded by Normandeau's
universe of familiar yet foreign tones -- a "cinema for the ear" which will
lead you down unexpected paths.