1. shizuka ni furu ame
Radu Malfatti - composer
Cristián Alvear - guitar
Purchase shizuka ni furu ame by contacting Malfatti at email@example.com
shizuka ni furu ame marks the first time that composer Radu Malfatti has written a piece for Chilean guitarist Cristián Alvear. That this is the first time Malfatti has composed something for solo guitar since 2003 (though, that was for electric guitar) is perhaps telling. On Alvear's previous recordings, it was clear that he very much understood the spirit of the Wandelweiser collective and on shizuka, it's very apparent that he still does. Across these 54 minutes, Alvear performs in a delicate but firm manner, realizing Malfatti's score in a way that highlights the potency of silence. I've listened to this record every day for the past month and throughout the many contexts I've heard it in, one thing remains constant: the use of silence on shizuka ni furu ame is the most affecting I've heard on any album all year.
shizuka will sound familiar to those who have heard Malfatti's works but as with all of his compositions, there are enough differences here that allow for the piece to stand on its own. The most obvious difference is, of course, the use of classical guitar. Its timbre is warmer than the strings, electronics, and trombone that have characterized previous b-boim releases. Malfatti takes advantage of this by having Alvear play dyads. As they're plucked and allowed to resonate, the weight of their relative consonance and dissonance is perceptible. Throughout the record, these dyads are repeated multiple times. Periodically, a single note is plucked after one of these chords, signaling an ensuing change in the dyad that will be played. The new chord is always similar to the last: one of its notes shift one semitone while the other stays the same.
This gradual transformation may seem tedious but the extended silences that bookend each dyad grant a freshness and vigor to each chord Alvear plays. As a result, the most crucial element of his performance is not what chords he plays but when he plays them. Alvear plucks his guitar frequently enough to set expectations of his continued playing. However, he appears at irregular intervals, creating tension during periods of silence. He strikes a perfect balance between consistency and unpredictability, and it's what makes shizuka so enthralling. This phenomenon is easily understood when looking at the waveforms of various Malfatti recordings.
These waveforms come from pieces that are all characterized by an interplay between instrumentation and silence. The first fifteen minutes of each piece are presented here and are representative of the entire recording. All waveforms are on the same scale for both time and amplitude.
When listening to zeitschatten and friedrichscofquartett, one can figure out the structure of the composition as it progress. If one listen isn't enough, one will know the grouping pattern of both pieces upon subsequent revisits. Conversely, the rate at which instrumentation appears on die temperatur der bedeutung, l'effaçage, and nonostane II doesn't lend itself to a specific and recognizable pattern. One engages with those pieces without foreknowledge of when silence ends and instrumentation begins. Consequently, there isn't a large sense of anticipation that one feels when listening to them.
When Alvear plays a consonant chord on shizuka, it feels like a warm and inviting embrace. That one could be waiting anywhere between 20 and 110 seconds for its return is the key to the album's success and replay value. I've found that when listening to this album in a quiet location, these passages of silence have an incredible sense of urgency. This is true even when relatively dissonant chords are played since one is still awaiting, albeit long-term, the arrival of more consonant ones.
When listening to shizuka in a more active setting, Alvear's entrances are still surprising and effective. When he plays a chord, one is likely to trace the event of it slowly fading into the environment. We as listeners are led into these 'external' sounds and are encouraged to interact with them. It's a clever move because I've found myself forgetting an album is even being played during these silent passages. Hearing Alvear's guitar has, on a surpiringly large number of occasions, left me dumbfounded as to how such a thing could happen. It's a bizarre but fascinating occurrence, and Malfatti's instruction to play the piece quietly helps to make it a regular one.
There's a lot more to shizuka ni furu ame than one would expect. Considering how minor the differences are between this album and other Malfatti records, I'm left astounded by how singular this record feels in his entire catalogue. Simply put, it's fantastic. Malfatti's compositional ingenuity is unmistakable here and Alvear's realization is extraordinary. It is, undoubtedly, one of the best releases from either artist and one can only hope that these two collaborate more in the future.