Posts Tagged ‘soothing’

Kyiv Dispatch – 17th July 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

For those of us who have never lived through war – domestically, that is – it’s hard to imagine what life is like. Living in the UK, I have the privilege of not having experienced it: both of my parent were born at the end of the second world war and lived under rationing as children, but they didn’t grow up living in fear of bombs falling. And while I look out into my back yard and see the brick and concrete bomb shelter which I use to brew beer, it’s beyond my conception to imagine what it must have been like to live in a time where I would actually have to take refuge in it, although the part of York where I live – or nearby – was bombed in 1942, with numerous some 94 people killed and 238 injured by some 84 tonnes of bombs, dropped in just 90 minutes.

But the fact is that life goes on – because it has to. And art is still made – because what else are artists to do? The title of this release is a little confusing, but the text which accompanies this release, which is particularly powerful, and speaks of the effects of war on the citizens of those countries stricken by war sheds some light on the questions of artistic ownership. It also highlights the fact that wars are waged by governments, not the people. and so we learn how ‘In 2022, with war in Ukraine raging, the composer Valentin Silvestrov was forced, at the age of 85, to flee Kyiv, abandoning his home studio. Silvestrov is one of the leading figures of the Ukrainian musical avant garde, active from the early 1960s onward and for Evgeny Gromov, Ukrainian pianist, researcher and curator, his forced departure was a tragedy, his absence keenly and personally felt’.

The notes go on to explain how this prompted him ‘to hasten the release of this double album, on which Gromov performs key piano works by Silvestrov, from his early, modernist period to his later, more beautifully accessible pieces. The sense of urgency is not just because Silvestrov is approaching ninety years old but also out of the daily sense of mortality felt by all those living in Kyiv. Hence also the founding of the Kyiv Dispatch label in 2022, dedicated to showcasing the full spectrum of Ukrainian new music. Both artistic and existential immediacy underpin the album, as Evgeny Gromov explains: “A great deal of Silvestrov’s music simply does not exist in sound. It exists as scores, as reputation, as a name but not as a lived, performed body of work. There is still no real tradition of its performance. For decades I have been working with this music across its full range, from the early avant-garde works to the later Bagatelles. In a sense, I am its performing extension. And at a certain point it became obvious: if this is not played now, systematically, insistently, it will remain absent.’

This is significant. How much art, how much thought, is lost in time due to an absence of documentation? This, then, is more than a matter of the impacts of war, but also a question of legacy, and of ephemerality.

Recorded in just four days, Moments Of Silvertones is Gromov’s urgent, even desperate, attempt to capture and document the work of Valentin Silvestrov, and we are all fortunate that he has. ‘Five Piano Pieces 1961’ is dramatic – essentially neoclassical in style, in places playful, in others feeling more moody, while ‘Triad 1962’ is very much more geared toward the delicate side, but again revealing a levity which counterbalances the shade.

The expansive ‘Piano Sonata No 2’- extending to almost sixteen minutes in duration, is a magnificently balanced work, and entertaining, playing with the tropes of jazz and minimalism as well as classical music with some bold hits resonating as hard as falling down a flight of stair, and evoking the spirit of silent movies – although it’s a fair way from Laurel and Hardy. Because it’s as a bygone age, and as much as we may wish to remember it fondly… we are increasingly drawn by nostalgia, as we cling with ever-increasing desperation to a past which felt to much better, so much easier, but, despite its focus on compositions from the 1960 (in its first half, at least), while also being devoted to preserving the more recent past (the ‘Bagatelles, Op.’ pieces dating from 2003-2006), Moments Of Silvertones is ultimately a collection of pieces which are delicate and soothing. And despite the conditions of its recording, nothing could be further removed from war or its soundtracking. This is what it means to be human. Moments Of Silvertones is an album hat needs to be heard as a reminder of this – and also because it’s an example of magnificently poised composition and beautiful musicianship.

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Valentin Silvestrov – Moments of Silvertones, Evgeny Gromov digital cover

Human Worth – 6th November 2020

Christopher Nosnibor

Evan Gildersleeve’s debut solo single, ‘Mortal’ is an absolute masterclass in suspenseful, atmospheric instrumental music. While incorporating ambient elements, the mellifluous piano work is clearly structured, albeit subtly as it drifts, the notes reverberating in the rarefied air. It’s deeply evocative, resonating on a level that’s at the innermost point and therefore beyond specific articulation.

That ‘Mortal’ emerged from a very personal space, with Evan’s creative process in its formation being a journey through challenges with mental health and the impact of lockdown renders it all the more poignant. While turbulence and trauma are completely removed from this soundtrack, it’s perhaps telling in itself, serving as it does as a refuge from all of that.

It may be a mere six-and-a-half minutes long, but ‘Mortal’ captures something special and moreover, has the capacity to slow time, drawing the listener into a slow suspension, with the most soothing effect.

This is music that requires you to put down the phone, step away from the keyboard, disconnect social media, the TV, all streaming news, dim the lights and breathe slowly. The video features some remarkable visuals likely to assist in soothing a crowded mind – and with proceeds going to MIND, it’s pretty much one of the essentials of 2020.

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Opa Loka Records – OL1902 – 10th May 2019

Christopher Nosnibor

Monsta is a solo project by Boaz Bentur, bass player and producer from north of Israel combining elements from psychedelic music, electronic and experimental.

III is Bentur’s second release as Monsta, and comprises two (very) long tracks, ‘A3’ (28:00) and ‘B3’ (36:54). According to the accompanying text, ‘This album is a part from a series of live psychedelic/meditative sessions performed in special locations and atmospheres when people are lying down on the floor with eyes closed’.

At first, there is nothing, and I forgot I’d even started the thing playing. Then, after a minute or so, a vague sound, barely audible… then something resembling the sound of a distant plane…. The continuous hum swells in volume, but changes barely, if at all. Over time, echoic rumbles and soft, nebulous drones spread to fill the air. Besides this, not a lot happens. But one senses the purpose behind the music here is about anything but events, what happens or doesn’t happen, but about the sensations it inspires. And that sensation is incredibly soothing, as the sounds somehow render time an irrelevance and lift the mind out of the body into a state of great calm. You don’t step out of time, as much as slowly float above it, the bonds of corporeal existence gradually loosening as you slide into another dimension.

Around 18 minutes into ‘A3’, you realise it’s still going and that the echoing notes and vespers that tinge the air have changed, although it’s impossible to describe how or why. There just seems to be more… space. More echo. This feels more controlled somehow, more composed, note consciously layered, the reverberations more formulated, but it still feels and sounds fluid, and every layer of vaporous drone seamlessly transitions into the next. And consequently, you’re actually feeling relaxed, ok.

Yes, by you, I mean me. I’m not really listening: because Monsta III is ambient to the max. I’m pottering about doing other things, reading news items and Facebook comments, but as ‘A3’ tapers into the turning contrails of ‘B3’, I’m vaguely aware that this is ‘background’ music at its best. My heart rate is normal, I’m not twitchy or anxietised, and without my doing breathing exercises. I’m light, at ease. Vaguely bewildered, uncommonly separated and approaching a certain contentment.

And even now, the title remains a mystery.

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