It is an intriguing combination; bass clarinet, electronics and percussion and one that renowned improvisers Lothar Ohlmeier, Isambard Khroustaliov and Rudi Fischerlehner utilise with equal parts aplomb and care, imbuing their sensitive imagery on In The Gloaming with space and time.
The sounds initially are tentative, sussing out the spaces between one another then allowing them to merge when the time is right. The warm clarinet probes the air like a sleepy snake as electronics skitter, vaporous in their aftershocks. The percussion is edgy but all around, respect is key and the friendly interplay evokes absence and renewal.There is much silence and the interplay is reactive, like friends suggesting one thing and then trumping with something else. An awkward, limbless gait, initiative taken by one and then like an obverse solo leads a stumbling dance or changing of angle that draws the others back in. For some reason, I see sullen, tropical skies, impending rain, a relay race of sudden rhythmic throbs and random essence.
The electronics are like some strange new language which the percussion tries to interpret on behalf of the clarinet which sings a counterpoint, mugged at points but always accessible. There are points of great integration which only prepare you for the corresponding dropout, a sense of submersion and a glimpse of their thought processes undiluted. The clarinet in its warmth tells a series of strange fairy-tales; and the percussion and electronics in their abandon aim to fill in gaps, describe details and paint a curious half-seen scene.
For something so abstract and improvisational, there is a satisfying spread of sound and variety of mood on In The Gloaming, with room tone a step up from silence leading all the way through to a distant saturation. It makes you think, but also makes you feel — and that can only be a good thing.
-Mr Olivetti-