Ooopopoiooo

Theremin and Pelton turbines. Credit must go to the organisers of the "Combin en musique" festival for the stroke of genius behind this pairing: musical electromagnetism and hydroelectric power, namely the surrealist theatre of Ooopopoiooo alongside the plant facilities at Valpelline (with the over 100 million cubic metres of water held by the Place Moulin dam). We're at the foot of the Grand Combin, the massif on the border between Switzerland and Valle d'Aosta. Since 2018, "Combin en musique" has become synonymous with a relationship between music and territory built around the idea of combination, of interweaving. And for the grand finale of the festival's 9th edition, that interweaving is entirely powered by electricity.

The sun barely filters through the grey clouds as the diminutive figure of Valeria Sturba and the Lynchian mane of Vincenzo Vasi appear on the lawn facing the plant: they are the two protagonists of the Ooopopoiooo project, "Dadaist surreal pop for theremin, voices and electroacoustic bric-a-brac". Valeria cradles a sky-blue electric violin, Vincenzo fiddles with the mixing desk in his glittery silver-sequined T-shirt, and here comes the swinging jest of "Il topolino va" (an old-fashioned melody laced with retro-futurist interference, always teetering on the edge of nonsense). It's one of the key tracks from "Elettromagnetismo e libertà", the duo's latest release (dating back to 2019 by now): a title that is already an artistic manifesto, dedicated to "defeating the monotony of the lobotomy of our times". Vincenzo's mutterings provide counterpoint to Valeria's soaring voice, while the live-recorded loops stack up hypnotically, in the manner of Andrew Bird's solo work.
Amid toy instruments and offbeat humour, the celebrated Sturba & Vasi outfit always puts virtuosity in service of play: no qualms about pairing the squeak of a plastic chicken or pig with a tribute to Luciano Berio... The deranged alliterations of "Bar Berio", however, provoke a reaction from up above: not the classic thunderbolt – there was probably already too much electricity in the air – but a few drops of rain, yes. And so, setting up a gazebo to shelter the instruments becomes the occasion for yet another tightrope-walking improvisation to entertain the crowd ("They're putting up the gazebo!").

The invisible waves of the two theremins at centre stage evoke abandoned radio stations, jazz clubs for ectoplasms ("Mood Indigo"), the crumpled covers of old Urania sci-fi paperbacks ("Spacsio"). But also the cries of fantastical creatures, as the two masters of ceremony use a dragon and a hippopotamus puppet to give voice to their ghostly instruments...
Despite a pink Barbie keyboard that insists on acting up, Ooopopoiooo offer a few previews from the new album in the works (including a lopsided nursery rhyme about mental associations that instantly lodges itself in memory), before launching into the anarchic little march that gave the previous record its title: “Elettromagnetismo e libertà/ La terra conferma gravità/ Lo spazio nel buio essenza/ La vita è nostra sofferenza/ Celebrare e volare/ Senza corpo è la morte”. Would you believe that the tune is credited to none other than improvisation master Tristan Honsinger?

Unfazed by the risk of anathema, the duo even announces a piece of sacred music: it sounds like a children's tune, but what emerges is the incipit of Pergolesi's "Stabat mater", transfigured into the soundtrack for some apocryphal Dario Argento film. The ideal accompaniment for the last light of a late-summer day, reflected on the plant's windows as shadows envelop the silhouette of the Grand Combin.
But there's still one surprise left before the goodbyes: Valeria Sturba begins singing a melody full of longing in Russian, plucking the strings of her electric violin; Vincenzo Vasi joins her on bass with a whistle carrying spectral echoes. It's the nostalgic song of the blue train from Cheburashka, the favourite Soviet cartoon of Mr. E: anyone who has seen Eels With Strings live knows it well, because a night like their appearance at the Conservatorio di Milano isn't forgotten even after twenty years... This time, climbing onto the roof of that carriage lost in the steppe is none other than Lev Sergeyevich Termen himself, the legendary inventor of the theremin (no, don't believe Vasi when he tries to convince the audience that he was the one who invented it...). The spirit of the man who chose to be called Léon Theremin hovers over the valley, blows through the plant's great turbines, and slips in among the electronic circuits of the oscillators. Long live electromagnetism! Long live freedom!

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google