OTOROKU Downloads

Download only arm of OTOROKU, documenting the venue's programme of experimental and new music.


Myriad interwoven textural fractures from Grace & Delete - aka no-screen laptop wizard James Dunn and bass clarinet boss Chris Cundy. "Dunn’s electronics are a masterclass in the resources of outdated technology. After being exposed to so much laptop texturing, the ear appreciates its limits. The electronics give Cundy’s contributions a jagged starkness, like coming upon a crude screenprint in an exhibition of digital printouts. The musicians are fully in control of their pitches and the music often proceeds by finding a harmony and then forcing it into crisis, unbearable tensions resolved into rhythmic exchange. Cundy also uses a Tinnitus Analyser to detect noises and elevate them into audibility. This provides the musicians with a stimulating randomness - the difference between the unexpected shapes generated by looking and drawing rather than simply doodling and reproducing habit, the eversame." - Ben Watson In The Screwtape Letters C.S Lewis defines music as a "meaningless acceleration in the rhythm of celestial experience," but it can also be a sped up inferno complete with the alien cries of the damned. Either way, the cat cannot get enough. She rolls on her back and flashes her claws in the air when this music plays. She is blown away by the concept of a bass clarinet; the longer a note lasts, the more she purrs; it seems to stretch her actual perception of time. She wriggles with pleasure; she twists and switches her tail; she forgets to close her mouth over her thirsty pink tongue. "Tinnitus!" she mews, "I have it! Come closer!" --- Chris Cundy / bass clarinet, alien toy James Dunn / electronics, tinnitus analyser --- --- Recorded live at Cafe OTO by Paul Skinner on Friday 9th June. Mixed & mastered by James Dunn. Words by Patricia Lockwood - Priestdaddy

Grace & Delete – 9.6.16

US guitarists, Eli Winter and Cameron Knowler have been playing and performing together since 2018 but there’s an easy, natural affinity in their playing and interactions that feels informed by a much older collaboration. This warm, joy-infused set, recorded at OTO in May 2022, combines cuts from their 2021 album, Anticipation, alongside solo tracks and an unexpected improvised group closer, where the two guitars of Winter and Knowler are ably joined by members of Shovel Dance Collective and Maxwell Sterling on bass. The back catalogues of both Winter and Knowler draw to varying degrees from the American folk tradition, and in this collaboration the bluegrass-tinged side of their work is unapologetically present. But the duo cast the net wide in their palette, not only in their references to the likes of Robbie Basho, Daniel Bachman, Jack Rose and the UK’s Michael Chapman et al (explicitly so, in the case of the latter two, with covers here of Chapman’s Caddo Lake and Rose’s Fishtown Flower), but also in the weaving through of jazz-inflected, improvised sections and intricate assemblages of shifting tonality, with nods to the 20th century American avant garde scene which at times approach the yearning dissonances of Harry Partch or the effervescent contrapuntal chord structures of Conlon Nancarrow. Hints, maybe, but more than enough to leave the listener in any doubt of the depth of the well these two are drawing from (and for those somehow still harbouring reservations over the extent to which Winter and Knowler are kicking against the hermetically sealed reverence that sometimes afflicts those working within the folk tradition, the title of the third song of the set should put these fears to rest). Ultimately, it’s the mixture of dexterity and space, weight and levity that ends up being so transfixing; conjuring a late summer pastoral haze, with Winter and Knowler’s eddies and whorls of notes carrying the listener effortlessly along like a spinning leaf on the brook. But the sweetness is never cloying, and the easy, seemingly effortless interplay between the two is never less than purposeful. There’s an unhurried focus to the duo’s playing, calm but deliberate in a way that slowly but surely draws the listener in. What leaves the deepest impression is the generosity of spirit in which these songs are offered up; something that the joyous reception that Winter and Knowler are given by an enraptured audience at the end of this set fully attests to. -- Eli Winter / guitarCameron Knowler / guitar -- Mix, master and cover design by Oli Barrett

Eli Winter & Cameron Knowler – 22.5.22

A total of 7 'vocal' pieces for soprano saxophone and piano, some written by Jan Rzewski and some by Steve Lacy. Frederic Rzewski and Steve Lacy met in Rome in the late 60’s when both were participating in Musica Elettronica Viva. Lacy dedicated his “Cryptosphere” to Rzewski - a tune full of a kind of micro playing that would dominate Lacy's playing after his time in Rome. Lacy and Rzewski shared a fascination with poetry and language, and here Rzewski and his son Jan recall moments from two records Rzewski and Lacy made together - "Rushes" based on Russian poems, and "Packet" based on poems written by Judith Melina of the Living Theatre. --- Frederick Rzewski / piano Jan Rzewski / soprano saxophone --- Frederic Rzewski in conversation with Evan Parker: "Steve Lacy. Well, the important thing about him was that he was a great composer. People think of him as a jazz musician, an improviser, which he was, but he was also a great composer. He wrote probably two hundred songs which nobody knows and he wrote pieces for all kinds of compositions for orchestra and so on. He wasn't just what it's fashionable to talk about, he happened to be a great artist and a great writer. He wrote tone clusters with dozens of notes. They looked like grape bunches - clusters of grapes! So, I was, you know, like any pianist - I would fake them. I would fake them, of course. What you don't learn in the conservatory but what I think any professional pianist knows is that you have to fake if you're going to play music of today, to play Steve Lacy. So I did that, but then in the rehearsal Steve would stop and he would say, "well wait a minute, that's not exactly right." Of course it wasn't right - he knew what he wrote you know. He was a serious composer and he wrote it down and he knew what he wanted to hear. And so I would have to really practice at it." Cover photo by Fabio Lugaro.

Frederick & Jan Rzewski – 10.1.19