The Wire issue 237
MATTIN & MARK WASTELL - VAULT (CD by
belasca’s “vault” is another fave thing. the collaborative project of mattin (computer feedback) & mark wastell (amplified textures) whose interaction stands probably to some of the most delicate obscurities I came across the last few months. ok ok ok, probably some might think that am overacting, but speaking of mattin & mark gotta admit that their approach is something that works perfect w/ my senses & subconscious. vault’s a cd where obscurity gets a different meaning sounds can come out of nowhere or can given the feeling of an amplified thing that stands in the middle of nowhere. also since mark is been into the amplified textures things I believe he creates atmospheres of such subsonic density or sparseness that give me the feeling as if an infant is trying to create something with plaster or something like that. the same am given at times from mattin at least (as holds for mark too) for some of his releases. no matter how silly it might sound. now thanks to their intimacy both mattin & mark work as infants in my humble opinion over here however not to create a drawing of a certain improv symmetry but instead a canvas of an unnamable abstract improv darkness as was spawn out of their subconscious. it’s up to you if you’ll enter the vault or not…
Dusted Magazine (by Jonathon Dale)
Paris Transatlantic (Paris)
Belaska is a duo also featuring Wastell and Spanish (he'd probably prefer Basque) sound artist Mattin on computer feedback, and as its title suggests, Vault was recorded in a disused safety deposit box in the City of London. Complete with a twenty-page booklet containing some elegant photographs of the performing space and a couple of texts (which just manage to avoid being mildly pretentious), the disc also consists of four tracks ranging in duration from 9'00" to 14'46". Site-specific improv is an exciting area of new music, but the majority of releases of the genre (if one can call it such) have so far concentrated on outdoor spaces - the excellent series of sound postcards on the Ouïe Dire label, the work of Afflux (Jean-Luc Guionnet, Eric La Casa and Eric Cordier). Vault is a claustrophobic and at times scary experience - who hasn't at some stage had a nightmare of being unable to escape from a confined space? - Mattin's at times vicious buzzes and feedback squeals and Wastell's disturbing scrapes and rumbles are literally captured (shot out to Tim Goldie for his excellent recording), and the vault itself becomes an all-too-real participant in the adventure. —DW
(San Francisco) n.18 Sept. 2004
probably hear something akin to Belaska's Vault CD (w.m.o/r) every time
us slams our knuckles on their aquarium glass. A tantalizing, almost
licentious document of Mark Wastell's and Mattin's anti-natural
congress with a decaying cube or armor, Vault is not field recording
pitty fuck. Belaska's fetishism craves stretch mark subwoof, and their
London EC2 box, as much as treasure haven as ever, delivers boom
containment. Profoundly obese hoot lingers in tourniquets, receding
incrementally toward vanishing points between amplified claws picking
at warts and herpes sores. The trainyard glides through the freeform,
unstated rhythms of triumphs fantasized by excited macaques, which is
most of the time; Rotten Piece rewards surrender with Stonehenge-worthy
rites inside rings of synchronous digeridoo-and-bagpipe smear (a neat
trick for a solo stick-cellist).
reviewed by Massimo Ricci. June 2004
E M P T Y no audience newsletter of the no audience underground (France)
Belaska 'vault'-w.m.o./r-CD in a PVC envelope
/I hear many-a-thing about industrial music and how the genre died as such in the mid eighties just around the era rock bands started pretending they were doing industrial music (Ministry, anyone?) I have no precise idea whether industrial is or isn't still alive but what strikes me as true among the what's said about it is industrial is intellectual music. By intellectual I by no means am saying it's elitist or it should be (p)reserved for/to a chosen few, simply that the concepts behind it are as important as the actual music, no-music or anti-music industrial projects make or used to. This ambient-percussive-low-end piece of a disc was recorded inside a safety-box inside the bowels of an abandonned bank building -maybe 'the heart of' would've been more elegant, but definetely bowels is more accurate- using computer feedback and amplified textures (sic) and abusing the natural reverb and resonance of the ancient metallic money chamber. Now tell me again industrial isn't intellectual.
Jazz Word & One Final Note
By Ken Waxman
Going beyond expected instrumental tone and textures -- and even instruments themselves -- is the focus of many younger improvisers, and these two CDs show just how far this concept can be stretched.
Connecting these two is the inventions of London’s Mark Wastell, who usually makes his mark as a cellist, but on First Meeting plays Nepalese prayer bowls, gong and amplified textures, and on Vault just the last. His partners on the former are fellow Brit Graham Halliwell on alto saxophone and feedback and German Bernhard Günter on electric cellotar, while the latter is a duo with Barcelona-based Mattin on computer feedback.
Wastell who often plays in a trio with harpist Rhodri Davies and bassist Simon H. Fell, and Halliwell, who is in another band with Fell, move from microtonalism to out-and-out reductionism here. Two of the tracks are labelled [plus] and two [minus], and these designations are very important. [Minus] tracks are purely improvised, while the [plus] tracks build on pre-recorded tapes of electronic sounds put together by Günter, an electroacoustic composer, who also plays the unique electric cellotar, a bowed, five-string baritone guitar.
Only the ultra discerning may be able to note the differences in these highly abstract situations. Wastell’s metal bowl resonation and the wiggling, whistling tones from Halliwell’s feedback-modulated saxophone connect with thumps and bumps in the [minus] section to produce hypnotic themes.
Lengthier by far, the [plus] tracks introduce more sounds to interrupt quiet, contemplative textures and long periods of silence. Sometimes you hear mechanized clicks and buzzes followed by intermittent chirrups and breaths that seem to come from within Halliwell’s mouthpiece. Or dense, unyielding timbres give way to hissing static electricity, crossed wire interference and squeaking reverb from a ring modulator. At points, the output is so faint that you may question its existence, elsewhere it’s loud enough to producing pulsating rattles. You can hear errant, split-second reed vibrato and paltry tongue slaps swallowed by ascending sine wave loops. Pinched single tone intersect with electronic spicatto and gong pealing, yet nearly all of the really abrasive sounds are buffered by utter stillness and echoing tones.
On the second CD, the aural situation that arises between Wastell and Mattin is even more transcendent. If optics are to be believed, it was also recorded within the premises of a former bank vault. Mattin, who has worked with some of the prime theoreticians of reductionism such as trombonist Radu Malfatti and guitarist Taku Sugimoto, describes the interaction between the central and the peripheral on the four tracks here as having an intermezzo-like resonance.
Well perhaps, but the overriding resemblance is more a recorded and manipulated thunderstorm. Throughout, rumbling, atmospheric percussive tones meet up with shuddering sine waves -- not to mention what resembles the aural replication of floor sweeping. Although the screeching, undulating reverb that arises from crossed-wire interference isn’t that common, the dense buzzing output of computer sequences is frequently interrupted by unconnected hisses and scrapes.
One track features what you’d hear if a conveyer belt is suddenly plugged into a wall socket -- and the resulting rumbles and drags from items moving on it. Loops are intercut with percussive bumps and a single crack that could be that of wooden pool cue hitting a ball. Separated by silences are dissolving hisses that could result from radio wave interference as well as more substantial textures that suggest rough sandpaper dragged across a resistant metallic surface. Melodies and notes shouldn’t be expected, but at intervals, spray can-like airy whooshes and assembly line loops take on certain rhythmic contours.
Definitely not for everyone -- especially those whose idea of noise and music have definite parameters -- these CDs aren’t designed for an evening of lazy, easy listening. Instead, they propose and showcase inventive ways musicians are expanding the concepts of sound collection and dissemination.
auf abwegen # 34 (Cologne)
Auch wenn beim Duo Belaska fur die Beteiligten Mark Wastell und Mattin nur die Angaben '' amplified textures'' und ''computer feedback'' vermerkt sind, klingt Vault doch wie die Feldaufnahme von Randgierbahnhof Koln- Deutz. Es rumpelt und Knirshcht in Basslagen, hallige Metallgerausche streifen den Horizont. Fast schon industrielle Asthetik, Baby.
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