is a review that is juxtaposed with dialogue from the artist based on my
the artist. All quotes below are those
of Mario Rechtern.
CD’s in 2002 on his label l.abop)
l.abop is multi-reedist, Mario Rechtern's
foundation. It has mutated from a Laboratory of (H)Armonic Basics and
Open Products in the 80-ies to a forum for improvised action during the
90-ies. It is inspired by the "open rehearsal black music orchestra" of
the University of Wisconsin where he played in the 70-ies. It is an lsg-austria/vienna
registered label carrying his name .
The cover that appears as attractive
animal skin, earth/brown and rain/blue, presents the elements: earth and
rain dances …with ,of course , fire and wind .This is all that we are
and all that engulfs and surrounds our bodies. It is a wilderness of
sound between the human and the electronic and frequently one cannot
know the difference. There is a suggestion of incidental music,
but with a high and low tension that makes casual listening impossible.
bravo! Sounds and samples recede and resurface creating an
orchestra out of two.
i grew up with that statement, not just about my sound..
I had a lot of sounds to penetrate, ask
questions and do not let the
listener have any peace- if he wants that : he go in the mountains and
for the real...i said long time ago ( i lost a friend on a glacier
switzerland when i was 17),
but as a general statement to saxophone
I had to hide my first sax from my parents
(while officialy playing
violin (and clarinette- that was allready nice of them to concede that
and had to practice in the forest at night....).yet at 28 i was
playing concerts or was sitting in in jazzbands, that were very quickly
by a policeintervention - of course because of loudness , but all
musicians agreed: that is not the reason--- there is s.th. else ---again
down into your review - you describe, what a lot of people in
europe do not support: their culture here is bio and wellness while at
their kids rip off the legs of the flies they get hold of and their
parents might do other things to each other while unseen....
if frank wright was steelworker in detroit he is the best address to
express what i mean and what i call real bricks in music. ever heard a
Sometimes I imagine this music as a satire of hip hop tracks
with its humourous squeeks and scratches which is charming in the dada
sense. There are some turkish as well as chassidic flavored melodies
on some tracks. The endings are often suddenly cut at a busy moment
which is startling if you're listening.
things that look like ironic onto hip hop etc or the mixing of dry and
or putting up the low and high against the middle
casual listening impossible was very intentional even the dada sense
(there is another concert CD on a Schwitters
hermetologies about and within the eclectic electronic music scenery )
turkish (persian) and chassidic colour is fact and my musical
basics(origin) and reference. the endings were cut off harshly after
weekends and thoughts about fading out or not- i made georg come 60 km
listen to this detail and help on decision. hahaha : one might have
search through every locker untill one found the transmitter that
sounds like my life: the research of lost times. yes thats it, what i
and thats why this turkish and chassidic. we had a good review at
times being but a lot of people did not like it and got mad on the
At times I get lost in
the texture, contemplating the tapping of plants and animal sounds in
motion or rain coming down. Reeds become sand and wind with
flagellating plant stems.
Machines click in the background amidst
screams and seals in heat with wailing hyena vibrato and metal circular
saws (the reverend Frank Wright was a steel worker) that turn into
There is an uplifting feeling as the pure saxophone/percussion duet
emerge from the the bubbling samples, a kindred beauty with John
Coltrane,Albert Ayler and Frank Wright. Occasionally it sounds like a
tiny cassette player hidden in a metal locker in a row of lockers in an
empty metal room. One might have to search through every locker until
one found the transmitter
like some GI pirate
radio in Vietnam. My contemplation keeps bubbling to the surface and
making me laugh.
Without these human voices the jungle would seem lonely. Music is
mysteriously ideology. There is no peace, only the joy of hunger and
fulfillment, continuity and exquisite form.