#gargarin

Realized in a Hamburg studio over three days in 2019, Sur quelques mondes étranges (loosely translated to On Some Strange Worlds) offers a glimpse into Noetinger's practice, existing primarily in a realm of looping sonic textures that might rather elicit connotations of a sculptor chiseling away at their material than a person working with the abstract notions of sound. Comprised of two sides of shorter tracks, one side-length 18-minute piece and one side of 21-second lock grooves, the end effect of Sur quelques mondes étranges feels more like a smorgasbord of what Noetinger is capable of than a definitive statement of his musical priorities.

This might have to do with the fact that more often than not Noetinger works within the framework of improvisational collaborations. On Sur quelques mondes étranges we find him alone in the studio traversing various predetermined structures and sound strategies. Using reel-to-reel tape machines, radios, sundry electronic devices and prerecorded material, Noetinger's process might involve starting a piece with a tape loop or building the atmosphere of his improvisation from a more specific sound object. He does this in the piece Steinmeck, which revolves around the cryptic incantation of that word. In each piece, the overriding density of the music pulls the listener in, challenging them to find their way through the many layers of sound.

To get a better idea of the prevailing atmosphere on Sur quelques mondes étranges, imagine Daphne Oram with a bad headache at the BBC Radiophonic Workshop composing soundtracks for a collection of J. G. Ballard short stories. Initially recorded only a few months before the onset of the Covid pandemic, the tracks on Sur quelques mondes étranges, with titles like Tonalités cosmiques pour anorexie mentale (Cosmic Tones for Anorexia Nervosa), Assault, Histoire d'un conflit (History of a Conflict) and Le bouffon moderne (The Modern Jester), work like harbingers of the dystopia to come. Recorded without any overdubs through room microphones and performed over tube-powered speakers, the material's analog tonal quality achieves a very live and spontaneous feel, giving us the sense of being right in the room with Noetinger as he performs.

Though the shorter pieces over the first two sides might provide a useful overview for people who aren't yet familiar with Noetinger's work, they don't really do justice to his improvisational process — something that needs more time to develop and unfold. As a result, these pieces often seem truncated or at the very least severed from what might have been more interesting long-form excursions. Thus, one is left with a mildly exasperated sense of wanting to hear more development than afforded by the confines of these relatively brief tracks.

Side C's excellent 18-minute Eine andere magische Stadt (Another Magic City) goes some way in abating this sense of dissatisfaction — but it also leaves one longing for more pieces of this duration. As it is exactly in this long-form context that Noetinger's work really shines, allowing one to get a better sense of how he moves through the accretion and dissolution of his material. And in this sense, Side D's collection of lock grooves (Zwölf Stationen — Twelve Stations ) seems like a frustratingly poor use of vinyl real estate. Another full-side piece like Eine andere magische Stadt would have certainly been more welcome than these snippets, which, quite frankly, seem more like an excuse to fill an empty side of vinyl than anything else.

In a sense, Sur quelques mondes étranges puts the cart before the proverbial horse, giving us many short answers but not providing a space for us to ask the deeper questions required to navigate the mystery of Noetinger's work.