Boomkat Product Review:
Rupert Clervaux and Dania loop fragments of Verdi's 'La forza del destino' on this ambitious 77-minute album, spicing them with improvised vocals, tape delays, drums and shruti box drones.
Dania and Clervaux have been friends for some time now, and decided to collaborate last year after a mini-tour in the UK. The starting point was an unfinished drone piece that Clervaux had been working for some time on, assembled using sections of Verdi's supposedly cursed opera 'La forza del destino'. Passing the material through tape delays and adding sub bass and shruti box drones, he'd reached an impasse, so handed the composition to Dania, who added wordless vocals in her Barcelona studio. This helped the duo visualize the lengthy piece as a finished album, and the result is a continuous, steadily evolving hum of subtle harmony that's split into five movements.
The record begins slowly and as quietly as a whisper, showing its genesis with awkward splintered samples that sound almost formless until they're smudged into a billowing drone. It's a smart introduction, and while it's long (this first part stretches out over almost 22 minutes) it's intriguing to hear the development so nakedly. Dania's voice makes its entrance on the second segment, and the record's direction immediately shifts; drowned in reverb, Dania sounds as if she's wailing in a dewy cavern, the miasmic drones crystalizing on the walls.
The third part introduces drums, leaving the fourth and fifth sections to bring everything together. The fourth part is the album's gorgeous centerpiece, just over 12 minutes of soaring vocals that melt into the pillowy ambience, and the fifth is a delayed crescendo, reminding us of everything we've heard. Patient listening is rewarded with this one.