Daniel Barbiero and Cristiano Bocci create a sonic masterpiece
I have heard music that stirs emotion, that evokes imagery, that stimulates thought and conversation, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard another piece of music that has forced me to rethink completely how I’m going to write about it.
Non-Places is the second collaboration between Washington DC based double-bassist and composer Daniel Barbiero and electronic composer and bassist Cristiano Bocci, of Italy. I pray it will not be their last as these gentlemen have found a powerful artistic synergy for which I have no basis for comparison.
This avant-garde compilation is presented as a concept album, the concept being the exploration and expression of “non-places,” public places “that impart a sense of anonymity or displacement to those who pass through them and use them to their own ends.”
The opening track is titled “Berlin Subway” and while I have never been on a Berlin subway, I have been on subways, in airport terminals and bus stations, the kinds of places where thousands of people mill through daily, aware of each other without really “seeing” each other, and in the midst of this onslaught of humanity there is, to the observer, an ironic loneliness that is beautifully captured here.
The mournful strains of the bass, set against the backdrop of subway station sounds, and counterpointed by the sparing application of some instruments I recognize (and many I do not) creates in my mind a scene so solid and well-defined, a feeling so visceral, that though I have never been on a Berlin subway I cannot help but feel that I know the place.
In the bio portion of the literature accompanying the CD the phrase “sound artist” is used. At the time it seemed like an unusual expression, but having been exposed to the work now I can say there is no single better term to describe what these men are for although they are both highly accomplished musicians in the traditional sense of the word, what they do here is more akin to a painter with a broad palette of tints, dabbing at the canvas, subtly altering brush strokes here and there, building layer upon layer to create an image that captures the essence of the subject.
I am no cinematographer—I know nothing of the art—but I wish I could capture on film the imagery this composition, all of these compositions, creates in my mind’s eye. Frankly, I would love to see a live performance of the pieces with graphic artists lining the stage, sketching and painting in response to the sounds. It is one thing to appreciate art for what it is, but art that inspires the creation of more art is a rare thing indeed and that is what these men have captured here.
There are other pieces on the album, of course, each just as masterfully done, but I have chosen to focus on the one because, for me, what is far more profound than any individual piece is the technique by which the whole was created. That may be a failing on my part, it might have been more appropriate to deconstruct each piece with “this is this” and “that is that,” but I am simply overwhelmed by the subtlety and scope of the craft.
The combination of ambient sound, layered with the musical interpretation of the instruments and then expanded upon through electronic manipulation (Bocci is a master of this) creates a soundscape that is not so much heard as experienced.
The album is available on Acustronica label (at acustonica.com) and there is an accompanying essay by Barbiero, “Atopia: Soundings from the Non-places,” published at atreidolia.com. If you would like to experience a new frontier of music as art, I highly recommend investigating further.