Welcome to the world of HAUSCHKA, namely Dusseldorf pianist & composer Volker Bertelmann, whose intricately woven rhythms and textures gently skit the layered structure of techno without ever straying from within classical parameters.
The synthesised bleeps and breaks that define our modern sense of the 'ambient' however, are replaced by the soothing metronomic whirrs, clicks and ticks of what sounds like a clockwork version of heaven – the chaos surrounds, and engulfs the piano that is actually emitting half of this 'secret noise' together with what sounds like a string quartet. Bertelmann plays around as much with frequency as he does with tempo, so much so that my first reaction was: if Richie Hawtin had been classically trained, then this must be pretty close to what Plastikman may have finished up sounding like!
The key to the gentle drift and flow of this gorgeous and ever shifting collection of preludes is delicately marked out by the absolutely unique 'secret' sound of the 'prepared' piano – and for prepared, you may read 'heavily doctored'!!
Bertelmann's sense of the bizaare has seen him modify the instrument as we know it, in all kinds of baffling, even horrifying ways (Drawing-room farce: “Good Grief!! Look what young Volker's done to the baby Steinway!!” etc.). Everything from weaving guitar strings in with the piano's (which makes immediate sense of the rather abstract sleeve design), to clamping other bits down with cork, leather and masking tape are central to the overall effect, which takes beautiful mindless minimalism by the hand and leads it into stirring and unchartered territory.
It opens with typically intense strings in control – 'La Dilettante' serves as a reminder that this is first and foremost a classical composition – but you try to work out where all the pendulums are swinging from! The percussive off-beat of 'Paddington', by contrast, is built high up on the neck of a double bass reverb and is awash with incidental complexity in seconds.
By the time the arpeggio of 'Chicago Morning' is underway, it is possible to distinguish the bits of foil wrapped around selected hammers under the lid, as a warm brass arrangement floods the piece with abstract drama. A knocking wooden pulse adds chaos, and right down in amongst this I'm sure I can hear the splash of a synthesised jungle bass? Probably not, as it doesn't detract from the organic nature of these chiming vibrations - even if it is a head scratching guessing game you have no chance of winning, I challenge you to resist!
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'Belgrade' is almost ska; it's dominated by an atonal and repetitive trumpeting that bounces prior to the weightlessly animated 'Sweet Spring Come' (which is simply ska-titled), a freefall in high keys which may just be in double use as a muted zither?
I apologise if I've made this record sound like some kind of demented marriage of science and musical nature, but despite the crazy workings of this musical professor, there is no denying either the unswerving method in his madness, or the fascination it evokes. 'Room To Expand' is, admittedly experimental, as far as piano mutilation is concerned - but the delicacy of it all means that at no point are you ever in doubt about the origins of Bertelmann's inspiration. The orchestrated feel is primarily true to his principal vision and even though it's just abstract enough to let his love of pop music sneak in, you'd have to be very used to pianos to suss out where half of the noises come from.
Even then, would you really ask if that was down to Kit-Kat wrappers being stuffed in it's intestines? No way! 99% of the time that would cast huge doubts over your OWN sanity, with you at the head of the witch-hunt!
My guess is that the fragile and gorgeous music wash away your your concerns as you glance at the speakers, and your concerns will disappear along with everything else as you become absorbed completely in your own thoughts, making this release a superlative soundtrack to your sense of the unique. Completely out on a limb and utterly superb!
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