Vladislav Delay “Tummaa” Review
Published by Close Bracket/Open Bracket. Written by Chris Lawes.
Sasu Ripatti is nothing if not multi-faceted. Since 1997 he’s released more than twenty albums through various guises and groups. His output covers vast swathes of the musical landscape, from his techno leanings as Luomo and Uusitalo to the more ambient and experimental territory of his work as one third of the Moritz von Oswald Trio.
As Vladislav Delay his experimental side is released from its small, perforated cardboard box and allowed to work it’s way through the studio like some kind of heavily drugged cable-gnawing mouse. Tummaa, his ninth album under this moniker sees Ripatti diminish his electronic influences, taking to live percussion and forming an electro-acoustic trio with Craig Armstrong (keys) and Lucio Capece (reeds). The resulting creation does away almost entirely with rhythmic structure and instead focuses on the atmospheres it is possible to realise when musical themes are governed by texture rather than timing.
This isn’t to say a sense of progression is absent in the tracks. The eleven minute Toive builds layers of electronic and organic harmonies, a menacing steely beat gradually thumping through the mix until around the three quarter mark, where all the elements unexpectedly combine in a payoff of syncopated dubby richness that snaps the focus from timbre to rhythm, leaving the listener unsure of whether to bounce around wildly with everything they’ve got or shit theselves with fear. Like John Cage or Luciano Berio’s works from the 50s and 60s this album is more a case of noises being explored through raw, instinctive methods, allowing the composer to capitalise on the uncertainty induced when standard formats are disposed of and calculated chaos is given a go at the instruments.
The great thing about this album is the way that nothing is left untouched, every single noise is fair game for being tweaked and rubbed and the amount of control over these components that Ripatti exhibits in the studio is simply staggering. You’re hearing a producer and a musician who’s at the top of his game, totally fearless and carving his way through a sonic landscape that’s completely his own. Mechanical and organic are effortlessly melded to form huge, overwhelming waves of harmonic opulence juxtaposed with disconcerting stabs of discord and rhythmic flashes, elevating the tracks beyond standard ambient comparisons.
Tummaa validates the claim made by John Cage that music is “an affirmation of life – not an attempt to bring order out of chaos nor to suggest improvements in creation, but simply a way of waking up to the very life we’re living.”