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ku-editions

paris


 

ku001

sampladelic hashashins

bodysong e.p.

not available

archived


ku002

mashimi

manifesto 1

not available

archived


ku003

sarabande cubiste

not available

archived

(new edition here)


ku004

sarabande cubiste ambient

not available

archived

(new edition here)


ku005

ma shi mi

the oldham loop

not available

archived


ku006

ma shi mi

filho da puta

not available

archived


ku007

bibliotecha obscura

this digital special edition

includes

ku009

a muse's noise

not available

archived


ku008

karl wolf

onanist works

not available

archived


001D

protyv

available on DL store



 

 ku010

un jardin ambulant

cph321 + eerohz

not available

archived






jonathan s. cotterell

 

 

 

 

 photos (c) wassily blossfeldt 2012

 

 

 

 

  

‘la mort d’espoir’ has a double meaning as a title. it is ‘the death of hope’ or, as i discovered after i titled the album, and because french language is predisposed to these entendres ‘the hopeful death’. so the latter is kind of positive and the previous bleak. both meanings, now, are interlaced. i actually like to talk about these things. there is another story that made me choose the title. it has got to do with the composition ‘mort’ by janá%u010Dek. you must check the facts because my memories sometimes play me tricks. it is a story of death and hope. this tune is the second and last part of the sonata titled 1.X.1905 and it is a cry of despair and anger the composer as a man of ideals and of courage also, i think. apparently on that date a young carpenter was killed by bayonet while demonstrating in favour of a czech university in brno. the sonata is a reaction to this assassination but janá%u010Dek wasn’t happy with it so he threw it to the volga. he regretted doing it so, and for years it was forgotten until the pianist who premiered the work said she had a copy of the original manuscript! you must check the dedication on the music sheet when finally janá%u010Dek published the work, i can’t remember, but it has to do with an anti-colonial fervour, against oppression...

["the white marble of the steps of the besední d%u016Fm in brno. the ordinary labourer františek pavlík falls, stained with blood. he came merely to champion higher learning and has been slain by cruel murderers."]

 

it is a feeling, a sentiment of honour and of revolt we miss very much nowadays. the artists of 2011 seem to be sheep, and utterly depolarized , apolitical, which disgust me immensely. so the title means something else, that from fight and death creation and beauty may arise, but it is a difficult think to explain.

 

 

 

I’ve been homeless for one year and a half and i slept where i could, in the rain or in any hole i could find. in the last months of being homeless i found this half abandoned big house in the suburbs of paris, in antony to be precise. there was a kind of badly kept mansion-like garden and in between palm trees and unkept flower beds there was a cranky old shed where i found a wardrove filled with bedsheets and blankets. being winter it was precious and warm, though my mental and physical state was deplorable, not having food or shelter... nevertheless i found out that the house wasn’t abandoned at all and some nights of the week a light would lit and a piano would play for hours. sometimes a very fine playing and more often the melodies where slower and out of tune, really slow and depressing. it was a very big comfort being the only person in the suburbs of paris to be the audience to this anonymous player. the sound came into the shed through the garden, the rain and the wind, distorted because the piano wasn’t well tuned; so it would arrive to me half ghostly half gothic-like. three of the pieces in the album come straight from those lonely nights. the satie, janá%u010Dek and the improvisation on tunes by decaux.

 

  photos (c) wassily blossfeldt 2012

 

actually this work is or could be a remembrance of those nights. by the way i never met or discover who was playing in the mansion. therefore another possible explanation to the title of the recording, ‘the death of hope’. though i was hopeless and depressed, there was a warm feeling being in the dark listening to the ghost piano. there was no hope for me at that moment but in a way i think it was the magic of the music reverberating in the air that put me on my feet again.

 

the album was recorded in analogue equipment at la chatte and in quick sessions, no pre-production or really strong ideas or concepts, which i abhor anyway. one day in the outskirts of arles we visited an old church and there was a priest playing the piano, a relic of a pianola, really. because karl had the laptop with him he suggested we record a track with the pianola. the priest acquiesced and we recorded ‘gymnopedie no. 3 – lent et grave’ in one take, really. mistakes and all. the rest of the album came as an addendum to that first recording. i must say that my playing on the satie piece is appalling, but i decided to keep it as it is. memory... la chatte is a theatre, well, a small room really, for about forty people where the owners stage plays, performances and live music. we play there frequently, actually almost every week, in any of functions said, we improvise for plays or performances and sometimes we play with other people.

 

it is a very cosy place and full of marvellous people, it has ambiance, a memory, as i was saying. even if what we do there and in this album is not that good it presents a moment and a memory. It is obvious that we treated the piano but when i play it there it seems time slows down, or evaporates... i don’t know really...

 

  photos (c) wassily blossfeldt 2012

 

it became my project only because karl [wolf] didn’t feel comfortable in doing something so ‘ambient’. a label that we both despise, anyway. coming from arles we drove past antony and the old mansion and i remembered the story of my homelessness and the ghostly piano. it was him actually that suggested i record some piano tracks just for fun and to the memory of me wanting to be a concert pianist. i never felt confident to be a pianist, anyway... the name decaux sprung immediately to mind, he is one of my favourites and the ‘clairs de lune’ precedes shoenberg atonalism by years and years, like satie decaux’s was a man of himself. because i cannot play the piano so well and because the dictatum of the moment so it demanded i recorded dubbing a rhapsody and improvisation of these ‘moonlights’ and the imagination took advantage, so the ‘improvisation solaire’ came into existence. improvisation is actually a very strange thing, and you do not envisage what i mean without practising it... meaning? it all depends on your education, culture, habits, practices, obviously, and then you, i, think, i will improvise. no, i won’t. what i will be, do and play is based on the dogma of the past experiences. i think electronics are the answer nowadays. place a keyboard and a pre-programmed sampler on it. you do not know what it contains, it is like a game – you do not know what IT IS ON THAT. but then when you discover what it is there, you just go back to the clichés and you yourself are programmed to the previous experiences, so it is a catch 22. i fucking hate these fucking interviews, you know, really! when benjamin [silva-pereira] wanted to talk about the bêdeux’s work i just refused, and karl [wolf]. we really do not like this media thing, even though i realise it is necessary, sometimes. we do not want to be famous or known even... give me wine, please, give me wine, there is nothing else outside of it, as the poet would say, you know? meaning... who cares what the others think of your work? it is shit? well, monsieur, viola, it is nevertheless a work of art, but it is shit! what changes? the value of the work registered? if there is anything i can say is for you to do, and listening is to do! that is why i liked the invitation from the catalogue [of wonders] and benjamin, he couldn’t give a shit about my opinion! he liked the shit we done, so he wanted a document of our work. i am sure we didn’t sell a single copy of a fucking single tune we ever made, but bless ben that persisted with to allow him to release our shit! he thinks he is not, but he is a punk, a fabulous skinny little inward punk! before ben we never allowed our work to be even recorded! improvisation with electronics or not is a risk, a pre-calculated risk. obviously we know the game, the method and the tactics... we do not want to know them, but we do. What else!? the world is very boring, actually.

 

  photos (c) wassily blossfeldt 2012