If you are the kind of person who is excited by the idea of a guy
        sitting at a snare drum and running objects around the perimeter to
        produce a whirring tone, you are about to lose your collective shit. If
        not, keep reading anyway - yes, it sounds zany, but rest assured, this
        is not a release you are going to want to sleep on in 2024.
    
    
        Etienne Nillesen carefully runs percussive mallets that resemble
        elongated Chupa-Chups and other different objects along and around the
        snare head, the vibrations of which result in a tone which drones
        continuously. Deeply concentrated, he achieves a zen-like state to
        produce a pure sound, metallic, and soothing. There is something about
        the reverberations of the constant kinetic movement which is both
        intimate and addictive: we are invested, sharing this journey of focus
        with him and we need to hear what happens next.
    
    
        It’s an endurance piece with occasional silent breaks for effect, but
        also presumably, to switch sticks/mallets/whatever. These moments are
        like resting phases between performing an exercise routine. A chance to
        sit and just allow the heart to relax before the next phase of activity.
        
        
    
    
        So often projects like these suffer from pretentiousness, especially in
        the liner notes. Thankfully for en this is not the case. Nate Wooley's
        thought-provoking written additions are an invitation to join the
        universal “quest for silence," claiming that Nillesen has found it. “But
        will we make the effort? Are we strong enough? And are we wild enough to
        be unafraid of what we may unlock?” It’s not so much about the literal
        moments of silence, moreso the respect for the silence required to
        really open one’s ears; to take the time to sit and simply absorb what
        we hear.
    
    
        There is really no better way to consume the en experience than by
        sinking into your favourite chair, putting on a great pair of
        headphones, cranking the volume up to 11 and closing your eyes. The act
        of listening is as meditative and as concentrated as the method required
        to produce it. One feels a connection - a knowing, trusting bond amidst
        the tension. In keeping with the minimalist aesthetic, the record
        contains only one track, commanding the listener to consume it the whole
        way through. Runtime is around half an hour. Even the very name of the
        record is minimised: the two uncapitalised initials of the artist.
    
    
        Cover artist Eva Jeske collaborated with Nillesen in 2022 on a work
        entitled “i will keep drawing circles until it becomes a picture." From
        her website: “an installative composition and performance for an
        electronically augmented snare drum and spatially distributed
        quadraphonic snare drum speakers.” The piece is a painted circle which
        appears to have been painted to mimic the motions of Nillesen’s
        technique, layering circles on top of circles “until it becomes a
        picture." But this work is not the one depicted on the cover - this is
        “Membrane;" an imprint of one of Nillesen’s own drum heads, picking up
        on fine details in physical texture, crackling pathways in stoney grey,
        like a drop of water on hot cement. Apt? You betcha.
    
    
        The subtle nuances in sonic texture, overtones, and kinetic “whistling”
        are earthy, rich, and as varied as wind through the trees. It is primal,
        grounding, and without getting too esoteric, some might even go as far
        as to call this “spiritual.” Certainly ritualistic, and vaguely
        metallic. Mechanical in execution, but performed by a human (or is he?)
        Intimate. Public. Private. Introspective. Outrospective. There is a lot
        of dichotomy at play for an LP with such a basic premise. It’s the whole
        package deal: A simple idea, well rounded from top to bottom, and
        perfectly executed. But where to from here? It’s hard to imagine how
        Nilleson could develop this skill any further - the 30-minute runtime of
        en feels just sufficient. Should one feel the desire to reconnect with
        his technique then there’s always the opportunity to replay it… but why
        get ahead of ourselves? For right now, we have this, and for right now
        there is nothing quite like it… and to top it all off, the cover is
        lilac.
    
    
        Simply remarkable. 
 






 
 
 
 
 
 
 

1 comments:
Love this review down to the lilac cover—Sarah Grosser has sublime taste and knows her shit, can’t wait to lend a hungry ear.
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