Tag: composer

  • Ukrainian composer Heinali on preserving the sound of Kyiv: ‘I wanted to protect my city from harm’

    Ukrainian composer Heinali on preserving the sound of Kyiv: ‘I wanted to protect my city from harm’

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    The latest album by Heinali is a rather beautiful piece created from field recordings made around his home city – recordings from rail stations, the sound of traffic and birdsong, the dripping of water in a tunnel, the rumbling of trains on a track, the babble of voices in a shopping mall – all sliced up, manipulated, accompanied by synthesisers and transformed into a piece of compelling ambient music. What transforms this niche arthouse project into an urgent piece of work is the fact that the city in question is Kyiv. “These are recordings of a world that has disappeared,” says Heinali, AKA Ukrainian musician Oleh Shpudeiko. “The album documents a city that has changed for ever.”

    The album, Kyiv Eternal, was completed after the Russian invasion, but the project dates back more than a decade. “I bought myself a handheld digital tape recorder in 2012 and started to record sounds around Kyiv,” says Shpudeiko. “I had hundreds of these sound sketches on my hard drive when I had to flee the city in February last year.”

    He relocated to Lviv while the battle of Kyiv raged in the early months of the war, and briefly returned after the Russian army’s advances were successfully repelled. “Kyiv was more alive than ever, but I wanted to protect it from harm, to console it,” he says. “This was a city where I had spent 37 years of my life. So this album became a hymn to this part of my identity.”

    Heinali: Kyiv Eternal – stream Spotify

    Shpudeiko describes the audio loops he works with as “memory loops”. He explains: “When we remember things, we only remember certain parts. We might change parts of that memory in our brain: we’ll add or remove or amplify a piece of information. It is very similar to a musical loop. A fragment performed over and over again will change slightly with each repetition.”

    Kyiv Eternal is released exactly a year after the Russian invasion, and comes not long after the release of another Heinali album, Live From a Bomb Shelter in Ukraine, which documents a performance live-streamed from a Lviv basement as Russian missiles rained down upon the nation. That album featured music from a project called Organa which he has been working on for several years, in which medieval liturgical music is reconfigured for modular synths and non-classical vocalists.

    “Early music and contemporary music have a lot in common,” says Shpudeiko. “Medieval music is less about harmonic development and more about creating a certain atmosphere and a feeling. Drone and ambient music is the same. It is designed to invoke certain religious experiences, mystical experiences.”

    Shpudeiko is now living temporarily in Germany, one of hundreds of Ukrainian artists relocated around Europe (thanks to the support of Ukraine’s ministry of culture) who aim to preserve and further Ukrainian art in exile. He would have loved to have come to the UK: his English is flawless, London is his favourite city and he has long been influenced by British electronic artists such as Coil, Psychic TV, Current 93 and Death in June. But the UK’s asylum policy made this almost impossible. “It is incredibly hard to get a UK visa – it costs a lot of money and British embassies demand your passport for the duration of the application process, which can take as long as three months.”

    Oleh Shpudeiko pictured in 2020.
    ‘Early music and contemporary music have a lot in common’ … Oleh Shpudeiko pictured in 2020. Photograph: Ksenia Popova

    Shpudeiko was brought up in a Russian-speaking family but he rejects the myth – promulgated by Putin and his “Vatnik” apologists – that Ukraine’s Russian speakers are pro-Moscow. However, the invasion has changed his attitude towards the Russian language. “I used to read a lot in Russian. Things I wanted to read – the literature, or the books about music history or sound studies – were only available in English or Russian, never translated into Ukrainian.

    “But after 24 February, I haven’t been able to read a single Russian book. I switched off that part of my brain. It was quite painful. I still speak Russian occasionally in non-official situations, like with my family, but officially I only use Ukrainian or English. I think we have all had to put Russian on pause for the duration of the war. It is extremely traumatic for any of us to deal with even the greatest Russian culture right now, knowing what they did in Bucha or Mariupol. I understand that this is not a healthy reaction, but there can be no healthy reactions to war.”

    How does he see the war panning out? “I am the worst person to ask about this,” he says. “This time last year I was arguing with my girlfriend: ‘No of course there won’t be a full-scale invasion.’ Worst-case scenario was that there would be another active phase of war in the east. The Russians trying to take Kyiv seemed insane.”

    Will he be touring Kyiv Eternal? “My live shows are much more improvised affairs. I’m not sure if I should ever perform this material outside of Ukraine. It is so closely connected with my home town. Maybe it can exist as a sound art installation, but it is too personal to think of doing this live.”

    Kyiv Eternal is released on 24 February via Injazero Records.

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    #Ukrainian #composer #Heinali #preserving #sound #Kyiv #wanted #protect #city #harm
    ( With inputs from : www.theguardian.com )

  • ‘Pure terror in musical form’: Dead Space’s composer shares its unsettling secret

    ‘Pure terror in musical form’: Dead Space’s composer shares its unsettling secret

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    What does “horror” sound like to you? Is it the slow thump of a heartbeat, gradually speeding up as adrenaline and cortisol start to flood the nervous system? Is it the wet thwack of meat on metal as something, somewhere, gets rent asunder? Or is it more understated – a soft whisper in the ear when you weren’t expecting it, half-heard shuffling footsteps, the suggestion of a breeze when the air is supposed to be perfectly still?

    Dead Space, the horror game from EA and Visceral that launched for the PlayStation 3, Xbox 360 and PC back in 2008, managed to get into your head, and under your skin. Complementing the game’s extra-terrestrial, Cronenberg-esque body horror was the mental deterioration of protagonist Isaac Clarke; an engineer stranded aboard the USG Ishimura. He’s not a warrior. He’s not a soldier. He’s just some guy, on a ship teeming with hostile alien lifeforms, whose poor little brain is starting to unravel. For the entire game, you never leave his heavy, blood-soaked boots.

    “There’s a very simple technique I came up with that, to me, musically illustrated Isaac’s emotional state,” explains Dead Space composer, Jason Graves. “You can hear it in the very beginning of track four on the soundtrack, Fly Me To The Aegis Seven Moon, and it’s used throughout the entire score. It’s a slowly wavering, single note. Very anxious-sounding. That note builds and expands as the rest of the orchestra slowly dominates and overpowers it.”

    Graves’ technique for getting you to empathise with Isaac mimicked what the audio engineers were doing with the rest of the game’s sound. Dead Space employed breathing sound effects and a dull heartbeat in the background to keep you physically in-step with Isaac. The lower your health, the more ragged your breathing became. The closer to death you were, the quicker your heart would beat. You might not have noticed these things consciously … but chances are your body did.

    Dead Space’s aim was to expand the boundaries of a horror experience in gaming, taking on all the action beats of Resident Evil and Silent Hill and complementing them with the psychological thriller aspects of cinema. “Kubrick is famous for implementing classical recordings in his films,” reflects Graves. “His use of Penderecki’s music in The Shining was my lightbulb moment for Dead Space. I stumbled across the ‘all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’ typewriter scene one evening on television and thought ‘that’s what the score needs to sound like!’”

    ‘The closer to death you were, the quicker your heart would beat … Dead Space.
    ‘The closer to death you were, the quicker your heart would beat … Dead Space. Photograph: EA

    Graves explains the appeal of the scene; it was a natural, acoustic sound – a normal orchestra performing their instruments – but the techniques they were using made the instruments sound otherworldly. “Like musical necromorphs,” he laughs. “The key to this sound was musical chance, or aleatoric techniques.”

    “The point of aleatoric music is giving the player the freedom to decide what to play within a given set of instructions. It might be ‘play the highest note as loud as possible,’ ‘play random open string harmonics very quietly’, or ‘play these five notes as quickly and loudly as you can. These kinds of directions are incredibly fun for the musicians. They act like they are back in school. I had several takes ruined by laughing at the end.”

    As unlistenable as aleatoric music sounds, it made perfect sense to commit the technique to a horror game. Especially a horror game with the goal of featuring the scariest soundtrack the world has ever heard. “I spent many, many months poring over scores from the mid-20th century and studying their techniques, convinced that this aleatoric sound of cacophony and confusion was the key to unlocking pure terror in musical form.” says Graves. “After all, what is normal-sounding music but comforting repetition, proper form, tonal balance and tuned, enjoyable sounds? If you take away all those things, you are robbing the listener of every core value that makes music comforting and pleasurable.”

    Graves was intent on making you, the player, as uncomfortable as you could be. This wasn’t going to be your traditional score; the original brief he received, which asked for “modern, Hollywood action music with some horror thrown in”, had been jettisoned. This was a cold, new frontier now: “nothing repeats, there is no tonal centre – it’s literally every man and woman (in the orchestra) for themselves.”

    ‘Nothing repeats, there is no tonal centre – it’s literally every man and woman (in the orchestra) for themselves’ … Dead Space.
    ‘Nothing repeats, there is no tonal centre – it’s literally every man and woman (in the orchestra) for themselves’ … Dead Space. Photograph: EA

    Dead Space was a passion project for Graves. He devoted more than two years of his life to it, and he came away with “over nine hours of recorded technique from each individual section of the orchestra”. Control over each element was essential for how the final product would sound, and how the music would be fed into the game engine. “This kind of music implementation hadn’t been done in games before,” he recalls. “EA was using its own proprietary music engine and really pushing the limits.”

    Was it easy? No. Was it effective? Absolutely. Dead Space remains one of the most essential horror games – influential enough to justify a remake, which will be out next week.

    “All creative people have their ‘trial by fire’ moments,” says Graves. “Projects that transform how they creatively process and work from that point forward. That’s what Dead Space did for me. Literally, every decision about the score – conception, recording techniques, musicians, recording studios and implementation – were, for better or worse, up to me … Constantly trying new things and pushing boundaries, that’s how you grow as an artist.”

    The end result is an unsettling triumph, a curated, player-driven exercise in tension and technique designed to get in your head and stay there, long after you’ve finished playing.

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    #Pure #terror #musical #form #Dead #Spaces #composer #shares #unsettling #secret
    ( With inputs from : www.theguardian.com )