Lawrence English - A pilgrim in the jungle

It's rare for so-called “transitional albums” to stand out as a highlight in an artist's career: but in those unusual cases when the exception proves the rule, they're almost always masterpieces. And that's exactly what happened this year with Lawrence English, an aesthete who has written unforgettable pages of contemporary ambient music, building – starting from his industrial origins – a soundscape in constant evolution, distinguished by an incredible poetic capacity set against a strictly realist form of landscape painting. Few have managed, as he has, to draw scenarios that are at once so earthly and concrete and so lyrical and evocative, fusing an “idealistic” and formal medium like ambient drone with the pure substance of field recordings. All this through a body of work that, in terms of collaborations and overall worth, speaks for itself. But this year the Brisbane sound artist has outdone himself, breaking free of the seemingly perfect boundaries he himself had drawn over fifteen years of intense activity, and throwing himself into that same exploration of the emotional-spatial impact of ambient music in which his friends Tim Hecker and Ben Frost have recently distinguished themselves. A turning point whose story, full of surprises, is just one of the many discoveries made during the virtual chat granted to us by this curious, brilliant, candid and tireless adventurer.

I want to start by asking you something about your latest album, which is also one of my all-time favorite ambient works. Tell me about the journey that led you to make it.

Honestly, it's a work born over a period of prolonged, burning anger, caused by a series of political incursions we've had to endure here in Australia, and which are actually present all over the world. In recent years, over here, we've had to witness a series of unacceptable attacks that have stripped us of the conditions needed to call ourselves a “livable” nation and, in my opinion, also of the values we worked so hard to earn. Our recent failures in respecting the human rights of refugees (and not only!) and the scandalous policies with which we're letting the Australian environment and ecosystem rot away have generated in me a frustration that, together with others, forms the beating heart of “Wilderness Of Mirrors“.

So, for the first time, can we talk about a “political” album of yours? What's the relationship, at this point, between the title and this concept?

The title is tied to two historical references. The first originates in a poem by T.S. Eliot, “Gerontion”, a wonderful and dense play on words. The second comes instead from the Cold War, where the CIA and the KGB challenged each other with false information (that is, misinformations, ed.), the result of which were precisely these cycles of responses forged on nothing at all. It struck me as a powerful metaphor, one able to reflect the way the music was created, and that's why I chose to try applying it to the album. The tracks were all born through a process of interaction: each part was recorded as a “response” to a previous one, and in each one a single detail changes – one more sound layer, one less. The result was rather curious: it happens that a sequence starts with a rhythmic or melodic element that gets lost over the course of the interactive development, forming, minute by minute, more and more a kind of harmonic spectre.

Where did you record and conceive the album?

It was, in truth, a very slow-burning process. It took me a long time to reach the point where I could consider it finished. During that long stretch I was working through a lot of very deep thoughts about the concept the album should be built around. I think it's very, very easy to make music today, but that this comes with an enormous responsibility for the musician: that of creating something that can truly engage and move the listener. I firmly believe that not everything needs to be published, to become public. The private sphere is still an incredibly powerful space, but one that lately nobody seems to take into consideration anymore. These questions, these doubts, play a fundamental role in shaping a record: and specifically for "Wilderness Of Mirrors" they made a crucial contribution, and will continue to do so with regard to its live translation as well.

And what instruments did you use to record it?

Actually, it was a matter of working with primarily acoustic sound sources, albeit heavily transformed and processed. The opening sequence, for instance, is played on a piano bowed with an e-bow (a guitar bow, ed.). Almost all the sequences were recorded within a very similar range, generating a fairly loud sound input, which in turn caused a chaotic saturation effect. To my mind, it's a way of coloring the sound right from its very first instance, so that there's no way to go back. That way you manage to create sound that starts out clean and becomes harmonically distorted over the course of its development.

In my view, moreover, this marks an important turning point in your sonic path. What do you think?

Given that these are purely subjective impressions, I think this record convincingly, and perhaps definitively, brings to completion a series of ideas already developed in other works, especially "Kiri No Oto" and "The Peregrine". Both, from my point of view, shared that same kind of aesthetic interest that I've also developed further on "Wilderness Of Mirrors", unlike, say, "A Colour For An Autumn", which was instead centered on a much more tonal flow. I think what makes "Wilderness Of Mirrors" so different from my previous work is its sheer impact, closely tied to live performance – both from my perspective as a musician and as a listener. The physical fullness, the sonic saturation of this record, largely have their roots in the live dimension: I focused a great deal on trying to convey, even on record, the sensory pressure that sound exerts when it propagates through the air in a dense, compact way – one of the qualities I love most about the live dimension.

My reading of the record, without knowing these details, curiously went in a completely different direction: that of a journey into the sacred, understood as a new form of "inner, emotional darkness"...

That really makes me happy! I believe that with music – all music – one has to have a strictly personal relationship, tied to the listener's inner self and, by reflection of the music, to the musician's own. It's something that re-embodies us within ourselves. When you hear a sound, the moment you perceive it is instantaneous and impossible to fully grasp, it's gone before you've even had the chance to think about holding onto it. And it can't come back, because the combination of conditions that generated it will never be repeated. So what really remains, once the sound is gone, is the memory of it, the recollection, an inner performance of all its complexities and variations. A special relationship, in short, that our sense of hearing allows us to build.

I also noticed, by the way, a number of elements in common with two of this year's most acclaimed ambient records: "A U R O R A" by Ben Frost and "Virgins" by Tim Hecker. My sense is that all three of you, each in your own way, have tried to work on impression and impact. But you, unlike them, have reached – perhaps consciously, perhaps not – an extraordinary balance between form and substance. Do you agree with that connection?

I think what links me, Ben and Tim is in fact a shared interest in the physical potential of sound, to the point where saturation is deliberately sought out and pushed beyond its limits. As far as Ben goes, "A U R O R A" works on the saturation of low frequencies and rhythm. Tim, on the other hand, has always focused on the collision between melody and harmony. I had the pleasure of being involved in both of these extraordinary records, for Ben as a kind of motivator and provocateur during post-production, and for Tim by helping him in the field to work on the sound sequences. I hold the deepest esteem and utmost respect for these two gentlemen, I think they're both creating breathtaking work!

What does this record represent in your artistic journey?

For me it represents, on one hand, the conclusion of certain questions and explorations into a particular aesthetic, and on the other, the beginning of a new approach to working with sound. This latter approach undoubtedly involves engaging with a socio-political-cultural sensibility that wasn't there before. The second-wave feminists were right: the personal is political.

Let's move on now to your other release from the end of this year, the collaboration with Werner Dafeldecker, "Shadow Of The Monolith". Where, when and how did you decide to bring this project to life?

Werner and I were lucky enough to be invited, in the summer of 2010, by the Argentine Antarctic Division to visit two of their bases. Andrea, who curated the whole thing, was incredibly accommodating and allowed us to organize ourselves to gather video and sound material. We stayed there for over a month, and we're still working through the flood of field recordings we collected. Besides this collaborative release, next year I'll also be putting out a solo record, "Viento", containing recordings from that experience, this time centered on recordings of the wind in Patagonia and Antarctica. I can't wait for these sound artifacts to finally surface too, because among them are some of the best recordings I've ever made – they sound tremendously cyclonic!

And how exactly did you (in this case, the two of you) go from raw recordings to the record's soundscape?

We wanted to reflect on and expand the sonic experiences we shared on site: from the incredible stillness to the geological noise, both underground and at sea, and we tried to trace a line connecting all of it. Some of the tracks that resulted are drawn from totally unaltered field recordings – the purest nature of sound in Antarctica can turn out to be surprisingly alien. An incredibly profound experience.

How did you divide up the work, and how did you balance each other's contributions?

One of the best things about collaborating with an artist like Werner is his open-mindedness and openness in terms of process. I think we were both focused first and foremost on making an intense, substantial record. That was the main driving force, along with the idea that everything should flow as organically as possible. The album is the result of material recorded and reworked by both of us. It was a pretty natural exchange, and I think a lot of the credit goes to Werner's generosity and openness. He's simply a genius!

Has your previous experience with the art of field recording been, in some way, an important resource for shaping these sounds?

Personally, I think the recordings made on that expedition were the culmination of a journey that had already touched many other places, including the Amazon and the Australian Outback. I was able to bring together a set of techniques and approaches that I've developed continuously over the past ten years. Still, I learned an enormous amount from this trip, and that in turn will be essential for future adventures.

Were you working on "Shadow Of The Monolith" during the same period you made "Wilderness Of Mirrors"?

No, actually most of the recordings for the work with Werner were already finished back in 2011. We both focused solely on that for a while, just before I started working on "The Peregrine". After that everything sat still until I met Michalis (Moschoutis, ed.) from Holotype, who told me he was interested in releasing it: we had no doubts or hesitation in choosing to put the record out through him.

Over the course of your career you've released records on a lot of different labels... Among those experiences, which was the best for you? And how do you manage your work with the wonderful Room40?

I have to admit I've been extremely lucky to make my projects with so many extraordinary labels. I think each one has, in its own way, been generous and impeccable with me. Of course, I've also had negative experiences, at least relative to the way I'm used to working: that is, placing more importance on the personal relationship than on the business side. The kind of work I'm interested in isn't the kind that's consumed in terms of commercial dealings, but rather one focused on mutual understanding and joining forces with the goal of creating the best possible situation for realizing each project. And that's how I work with Room40 too, and I honestly believe it's the "secret" that has allowed us to put our names on so many wonderful records. I believe so strongly in the artists I work with that I want to be the best possible "home" where their work can find a place.

Here in Italy we have quite a few artists moving closer to the worlds of ambient music, drone and electroacoustic music, which are more or less your own creative poles. Who are your favorite artists at the moment, or at least the ones you find yourself wanting to listen to most often?

That's a good one (laughs). I think the best thing I can do to answer you is just paste my top 10 of this year here, don't you think?

1. Scott Walker + Sunn O))) – Soused

2. Ben Frost – A U R O R A

3. Grouper – Ruins

4. Xiu Xiu – Angel Guts

5. Blank Realm – Grassed Inn

6. Alessandro Cortini – Sonno

7. Deru – 1979

8. Tujiko Noriko – My Ghost Comes Back

9. Earth – Primitive And Deadly

10. Andy Stott – Faith In Strangers

11. Swans – To Be Kind

12. Loscil – Sea Island

13. The Bug – Angels and Devils

14. Einstürzende Neubauten – Lament

15. Black Rain – Dark Pool

In my opinion, “Wilderness Of Mirrors” is a perfect record to perform in a church – I think I explained why earlier, so I won't repeat myself. What do you think? Where do you usually like to play?

I'd really love to be able to take advantage of the acoustics of a church or a cathedral. I consider decay one of the most important qualities of sound, and one of the most intense to work with. The architecture of a church would also be a vital element, just as much as the architecture of the performance itself. The early composers of choral music knew all this, and today all of us making music should keep these concepts just as much in mind.

Speaking of live shows, where are you right now? Do you have a specific tour planned for “Wilderness Of Mirrors”?

Right now I'm in Portugal for a few shows, and then I'll head back to Iceland to work on a project with Ben Frost. In January I'll be back in Europe for some dates celebrating Room40's tenth anniversary, and I'd love nothing more than to perform “Wilderness Of Mirrors” on those occasions. The dates confirmed so far are:

22/1 Prague, Spectaculare Festival (with John Chantler and Heinz Riegler)

23/1 London, Café OTO

28/1 Berlin, CTM

29/1 Copenhagen, Jazzhouse

31/1 Basel, HEK (with John Chantler and Rafael Anton Irisarri)

And to wrap up, what other projects are you working on at the moment?

I just received a commission from a contemporary art gallery in my hometown (Brisbane, ed.) that will keep me busy for most of the year. I've been working for a while with Jamie Stewart of Xiu Xiu on a collaborative project called HEXA. The first performance of this new creature will be in April, and I like to think we'll manage to put out a record before the year is over. Lastly, I'm starting work on the next solo record, which for now is still very much a work in progress, but those early stages are always fun regardless.

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