Composer and keyboardist Léo Dupleix works at the intersection of composed and improvised music, frequently exploring unusual tuning systems and creating music that blurs genres and eras. This new trio—with Dupleix on harpsichord along with cellist Félicie Bazelaire and clarinetist Juliette Adam—tackles a beguiling set of his compositions, with harmonies that evoke some radically different signposts, whether Arnold Dreyblatt’s Orchestra of Excited Strings or cycling minimalism á la Terry Riley. The three musicians constantly shift timbres, with one of them often dropping out for extended spells, and the five-movement work alters pace just as much, giving the performance an almost psychedelic sense of dislocation. Bazelaire and Adam are phenomenal together, their braided long tones producing halos of exquisite overtones, while Dupleix’s harpsichord work allows the music to connect with Baroque traditions as well as contemporary drone, usually in some peculiar admixture where no one concept prevails. The graceful melodies soothe and soar, the interplay is rigorous yet airy, and the harmonies tingle, all perpetually unveiling new blends, rhythms, and melodies. Somehow the music feels warmly familiar and totally otherworldly at once, and it’s hard to imagine a better way to praise this work.
Clara de Asís, Richard Comte, Lauri Hyvärinen, Fredrik Rasten, and Denis Sorokin perform selections from fourteen Léo Dupleix compositions for solo guitar on the nineteen-track, 54’ Préludes non mesurés. Melodies of deliberately paced and deliberately placed tones and chords of tones occasionally combine at the overlay of their attack and decay for singing harmonies. Of the fourteen pieces the performers realize seven, only one of which would not allow comparison across performers and only one of each acoustic and electric that would not allow comparison across kinds of guitars. Mélange sequencing makes disorienting straight-through listens possible alongside those by piece and by performer. More than the melodies hear performer personalities and signatures in articulation, speed, spacing, and instrumentation. Fredrik’s breath and deep-chested guitar resonance. Denis’ muddy, bluesy sound. Lauri’s arachnid dissonance. Richard’s clarity. And Clara’s bold attack, string buzz, contingent sounds, and extended durations. Making time malleable makes the performers audible.
If you asked Fredrik Rasten to sit down and play you a tune, he surely could; he picks some sturdy ones on Alasdair Roberts’ latest LP. But if you asked him to play what’s on his mind, he’d strum a chord. Then he’d do it again. After a spell, you might notice an accumulation of varied tones rising from the chord, instigated either by subtle variations in attack, or simply by the overtones stirred by twelve strings vibrating in close proximity. That’s pretty much what happens on Delve II, with one added variable — the spinet (a sort of parlor harpsichord) of Léo Dupleix. Dupleix’s brittle, quicker-decaying sounds are the barely submerged rocks that make Rasten’s oceanic strums by turns shallower and more turbulent. This is minimalism boiled down to its essence — one idea, tested from every angle, with every weaker aspect steamed away.
The works I heard so far from Leo Dupleix (1988, Paris) were all in the realm of electronic music and improvisation, but here he presents a piece of music that works, I guess, with a score and is performed by Suidobashi Chamber Ensemble, Ura Hiroyuki and the composer. "The 7 musicians in the ensemble are "re-grouped" into 3 duos, while the snare drum part serves as the backbone for the ensemble. Each duo uses specific tuning systems, deriving from prime number partials in the harmonic series: 7th for guitar and bassoon, 5th for clarinet and viola, and 11th for flute and sine tones". The whole piece has seven parts, separated by a bit of silence. The instruments are flute, clarinet, viola, bassoon, guitar, snare drum and sine tones, and the latter handled by the composer. The piece was recorded live at Ftarri and is a beautiful, minimalist piece of music. It seems as if each section is the same but it is not, as small changes occur. In each part, there are smaller sub-parts to be noted and in each, there is a variety of sustaining notes to be heard. It sounds quite composed, even when the piece was rehearsed only a couple of hours before the concert took place. There is an interesting shift in dynamic to be noted within this piece and these players, subtly changing within each part, so it seems. It has both modern classical music feeling to it and yet also something more improvised. This is quite a beautiful release for quiet days and silent streets.
Yet another configuration featuring French tenor saxophonist Bertrand Denzler, Plateaux is unlike many of the barbed Free Music sessions he’s recorded with bands such as Hubbub and Trio Sowari. With Paris-born Léo Dupleix, who composes notated music for the likes of the Suidobashi Chamber Ensemble and uses sonic elements to improvise, the disc is mostly concerned with the overlap among lowing reed pitches and the vibrations produced by a bass drum and digital organ. Creating together since 2017, the duo works through three tracks where the texture of the undulation is more important than movement. Although there are brief identifiable split tones and tonguing on some parts of the tracks, Denzler’s instrument is less prominent than Dupleix’s, since the ranks, stops and pressure available from the dual keyboards are more adaptable to constituting undulating drones than a saxophone’s reed. While ratcheting echoes, cross-saw-like buzzes and expanded tremors are usually combined within the expositions, the tunes aren’t without diversity. Compressed silences mark shifts in the timbres and as tones are emphasized as they accelerate and diminish, slight differences become apparent. It’s similar to how a careful examination of the line and brush strokes in a supposedly all-black painting reveals slight variations. Along with these almost hidden differences, there’s a sense during the tracks’ evolution, that palimpsest-like other sonic layers lurk beneath the placid surface. During a couple of sequences what seems to be replication of the doors closing and train starting of the Paris Métro can be heard. But while jolting that’s just part of the unfolding narrative. Similarly while there’s a touch of Phantom of the Opera-like dual keyboard excess and some reed flattement, the purpose of the session isn’t to promote individuality. Instead a clue to the function comes from the definition of “Tessiture” the final track’s title. Described as the most comfortable range to create characteristic timbres Dupleix and Denzler have done just that. Without reliance on melody, harmony or rhythm, they’ve come up with a fascinating program of hypnotic variations.
Meditative. Enterprising. Industrial. Cavernous. All are fair descriptors of Fire Disposal, the four-part LP debut from power trio Tandaapushi. Throughout its forty minutes, the rhythmic churning of keyboards, cymbals, throbbing bass, electronic effects, bells, beeps and more both demand its listener’s attention while lulling them into a state of altered consciousness.
The album came about following a rendezvous between European students of various disciplines of music. Having met in Brussels, keyboardist Léo Dupleix, drummer Louis Evrard and bassist Laurens Smet form the nuclear mind meld from which the band’s trance-inducing drones emanate.
The suite that makes up the length of Fire Disposal cascades along, skipping past barriers of genre effortlessly. That’s not to say that the music is easy listening, or that tasteful, nuanced playing takes a backseat for the sake of group cohesion. Laser-like keyboard patches decimate a deep, groovy backbeat here and there, before gradually receding into the ocean-like noise spectrum and fading. More on that later, but suffice to say that — regardless of the session-like quality of its players — this is no “smooth jazz” number.
Indeed: Dupleix’s electronic texturing tends to define a wide swath of the sonic landscape, which is what this project feels like it ought to be – the exploration of sonic undertones by way of pounding bass and intuitive yet catchy drum fills. In particularly “thick” spaces (the first five minutes of “Part IV” demonstrate this perfectly) Dupleix is content to lie back on a rhythmic loop, allowing drums and bass to chase one another round the beat, thoughtfully adding ’70s electric piano (“pianet”) fills.
With these three musicians on board, Fire Disposal has been described variously as “avant rock” (Jazznyt), as well as minimalist and “free” jazz. The segments of music from Tandaapushi’s first album may be described as such, but they may also be described as super- and sub-sonic textures for introspective imagery and, indeed, meditative journeying.
Again, don’t be lulled into thinking that this album backs into corners occupied by otherwise underwhelming or wallpaper-like “easy” listening. Its massage-like qualities, wild oscillating, and frenetic, deep vibrations will conversely spike into killer buzzsaw waves of Tesla coil feedback, bursts of treble-propelled energy sparking away.
Fire Disposal is at times like listening to the sounds coming from the backdoor of a sketchy, poorly-lit laboratory, perhaps one abutting the city morgue, with the outline of some shady figures doing some strange work within. For all the dark tones they produce, these players have a serious charm that keeps us comfortably lulled while conscious, awake and looking out for that next errant spark of electricity.
Captivating grooves and drones by a new power trio from Belgium. Let me present you the crew. Leo Dupleix (keyboards) studied at the Brussels Royal Conservatory, and has his base in Tokyo. Mainly working as an electronic musician in the contact of improvised and experimental music. Laurens Smet (bass) comes from Antwerp where he visited the conservatory, and works in jazz and improvised combinations like Bambi Pang Pang. Louis Evrard (drums), influenced by contemporary music, hip-hop and everything in between, operates in many different contexts. They met in Brussels and discovered they had a common interest that is now demonstrated on their well-balanced debut album as Tandaapushi. Drone rock with a well-chosen, coherent outlook. In their pulsating structures they move very convincingly towards their goal. Minimalistic on the one hand, they do their thing with fantasy. The bass playing of Smet effectively complements the beats and rhythms by Evrard. Both supply a solid floor for the fine sound textures by Dupleix. This results in truly hypnotizing, trance-inducing music, that somehow picks up where kraut rock bands like Can, Neu and Faust stopped. Released on the Danish Jvtland label of Martin Vognsen.