Ainu Mosir
Subtle, soft-focus drones and plaintive cinematic textures on this gorgeous soundtrack from Miasmah alum and Stars of the Lid collaborator Clarice Jensen.
Artistic director of the American Contemporary Music Ensemble Clarice Jensen has carved out a niche for herself in recent years, building on the bedrock laid out by Jóhann Jóhannsson, Max Richter and Nico Muhly infusing experimental ambience with a blush of widescreen melancholy. On this brief soundtrack to Takeshi Fukunaga's "Auno Mosir" she strikes a hopeful tone, layering prepared muted piano tones over eerie drones that move carefully away from the grim doom of her ace 2018 Miasmah debut "For This From That Will Be Filled".
The movie itself details a teenager's coming of age as he questions his culture in an indigenous Japanese community, performing rituals in a repetitive spiral to appeal to tourists. Thankfully Jensen avoids any iffy appropriative moods, building instead purely on her own established sound and allowing nauseous drones and precise, wailing strings to lay out the film's narrative. Short but very sweet indeed.
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Subtle, soft-focus drones and plaintive cinematic textures on this gorgeous soundtrack from Miasmah alum and Stars of the Lid collaborator Clarice Jensen.
Artistic director of the American Contemporary Music Ensemble Clarice Jensen has carved out a niche for herself in recent years, building on the bedrock laid out by Jóhann Jóhannsson, Max Richter and Nico Muhly infusing experimental ambience with a blush of widescreen melancholy. On this brief soundtrack to Takeshi Fukunaga's "Auno Mosir" she strikes a hopeful tone, layering prepared muted piano tones over eerie drones that move carefully away from the grim doom of her ace 2018 Miasmah debut "For This From That Will Be Filled".
The movie itself details a teenager's coming of age as he questions his culture in an indigenous Japanese community, performing rituals in a repetitive spiral to appeal to tourists. Thankfully Jensen avoids any iffy appropriative moods, building instead purely on her own established sound and allowing nauseous drones and precise, wailing strings to lay out the film's narrative. Short but very sweet indeed.
Subtle, soft-focus drones and plaintive cinematic textures on this gorgeous soundtrack from Miasmah alum and Stars of the Lid collaborator Clarice Jensen.
Artistic director of the American Contemporary Music Ensemble Clarice Jensen has carved out a niche for herself in recent years, building on the bedrock laid out by Jóhann Jóhannsson, Max Richter and Nico Muhly infusing experimental ambience with a blush of widescreen melancholy. On this brief soundtrack to Takeshi Fukunaga's "Auno Mosir" she strikes a hopeful tone, layering prepared muted piano tones over eerie drones that move carefully away from the grim doom of her ace 2018 Miasmah debut "For This From That Will Be Filled".
The movie itself details a teenager's coming of age as he questions his culture in an indigenous Japanese community, performing rituals in a repetitive spiral to appeal to tourists. Thankfully Jensen avoids any iffy appropriative moods, building instead purely on her own established sound and allowing nauseous drones and precise, wailing strings to lay out the film's narrative. Short but very sweet indeed.
Subtle, soft-focus drones and plaintive cinematic textures on this gorgeous soundtrack from Miasmah alum and Stars of the Lid collaborator Clarice Jensen.
Artistic director of the American Contemporary Music Ensemble Clarice Jensen has carved out a niche for herself in recent years, building on the bedrock laid out by Jóhann Jóhannsson, Max Richter and Nico Muhly infusing experimental ambience with a blush of widescreen melancholy. On this brief soundtrack to Takeshi Fukunaga's "Auno Mosir" she strikes a hopeful tone, layering prepared muted piano tones over eerie drones that move carefully away from the grim doom of her ace 2018 Miasmah debut "For This From That Will Be Filled".
The movie itself details a teenager's coming of age as he questions his culture in an indigenous Japanese community, performing rituals in a repetitive spiral to appeal to tourists. Thankfully Jensen avoids any iffy appropriative moods, building instead purely on her own established sound and allowing nauseous drones and precise, wailing strings to lay out the film's narrative. Short but very sweet indeed.