Doyenne 001
Flora Yin-Wong / Susu Laroche
Doyenne 001
Boomkat Product Review:
Flora Yin-Wong's new label/publishing house Doyenne ("for new forms, objects & the divine feminine") debuts with a fine split from multidisciplinary artist Susu Laroche and Yin-Wong herself: deploying a side of Laroche’s killer dungeon dabke followed by Yin-Wong’s astonishing, subterranean fever dreams.
We're excited about Doyenne. FYW has promised that her new label will handle more than just music; the second release is set to be a book about the tradition of singing to spirits featuring contributions from YL Hooi, Cucina Povera, Christina Vantzou and Lucinda Chua, and after that Doyenne will release photography, metalwork, poetry and illustrations as well as music. But the first release establishes the imprint's sonic foundations, and who better to rise to that challenge than Yin Wong and her London-based French-Egyptian pal Susu Laroche, who is also well versed in releasing art across multiple mediums, from making her own tarot cards, to producing films made with music by Mica Levi and Blackhaine.
Like Yin-Wong, Laroche infuses her sounds with context - her previous releases were lashed to ideas about 19th century occultists, trance states, ancient poetry and gender-fluxing Georgian monarchs. The tracks presented here have been left to marinate in the same gooey cultural oils; 'Hold Your Tongue' is precariously divine, unfolding gracefully from gusty vocal twists into bewildering dabke murk. 'Hours' is more asymmetric and hooky, sounding uncannily like Fever Ray as if produced by Shackleton, casually drawing us into a cycle of ritualistic chants, hand drums and acidic synths that suggest a levantine cyberpunk parallel history, with all the high-minded artistic exposition that might suggest.
Flora Yin-Wong follows last year's installation-led examination of the harmony between Daoism, paganism and Catholicism 'Sacro Bosco' with two immersive oddballs that strike a balance between spiritual nihilism and emotional abstraction. And - honestly - she just gets better with every release. If her Modern Love album ‘Holy Palm’ emptied her archive of years worth of field recordings, the tracks here are on a whole other level of madness.
‘Acid / Answered Prayer’ opens into the most desolate landscape imaginable, with ungodly howls and found sounds gradually multiplying in intensity. It could all go power ambient, but instead our ears are directed to the thrum of strings buried somewhere way down in the mix, all sparkling beauty illuminating the rot around it. So many people try their hand at this sort of textural/gothic ambient - but very few have done it at this sort of primal, deeply believable level.
The side ends on a short coda that in the space of 90 seconds folds from splintered Bill Orcutt-style broken guitar strings and thumb piano and into a sort of music box lullaby swallowed by apocalyptic industrial electronics. it makes no sense, and therefore makes all the sense in the world.
It’s hard to get excited by new labels when there is such a glut of new ones emerging pretty much every day, but Doyenne has a real shot at being a thing. We’re locked.
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Edition of 100 copies, includes a download of the release dropped to your account.
Out of Stock
Boomkat Product Review:
Flora Yin-Wong's new label/publishing house Doyenne ("for new forms, objects & the divine feminine") debuts with a fine split from multidisciplinary artist Susu Laroche and Yin-Wong herself: deploying a side of Laroche’s killer dungeon dabke followed by Yin-Wong’s astonishing, subterranean fever dreams.
We're excited about Doyenne. FYW has promised that her new label will handle more than just music; the second release is set to be a book about the tradition of singing to spirits featuring contributions from YL Hooi, Cucina Povera, Christina Vantzou and Lucinda Chua, and after that Doyenne will release photography, metalwork, poetry and illustrations as well as music. But the first release establishes the imprint's sonic foundations, and who better to rise to that challenge than Yin Wong and her London-based French-Egyptian pal Susu Laroche, who is also well versed in releasing art across multiple mediums, from making her own tarot cards, to producing films made with music by Mica Levi and Blackhaine.
Like Yin-Wong, Laroche infuses her sounds with context - her previous releases were lashed to ideas about 19th century occultists, trance states, ancient poetry and gender-fluxing Georgian monarchs. The tracks presented here have been left to marinate in the same gooey cultural oils; 'Hold Your Tongue' is precariously divine, unfolding gracefully from gusty vocal twists into bewildering dabke murk. 'Hours' is more asymmetric and hooky, sounding uncannily like Fever Ray as if produced by Shackleton, casually drawing us into a cycle of ritualistic chants, hand drums and acidic synths that suggest a levantine cyberpunk parallel history, with all the high-minded artistic exposition that might suggest.
Flora Yin-Wong follows last year's installation-led examination of the harmony between Daoism, paganism and Catholicism 'Sacro Bosco' with two immersive oddballs that strike a balance between spiritual nihilism and emotional abstraction. And - honestly - she just gets better with every release. If her Modern Love album ‘Holy Palm’ emptied her archive of years worth of field recordings, the tracks here are on a whole other level of madness.
‘Acid / Answered Prayer’ opens into the most desolate landscape imaginable, with ungodly howls and found sounds gradually multiplying in intensity. It could all go power ambient, but instead our ears are directed to the thrum of strings buried somewhere way down in the mix, all sparkling beauty illuminating the rot around it. So many people try their hand at this sort of textural/gothic ambient - but very few have done it at this sort of primal, deeply believable level.
The side ends on a short coda that in the space of 90 seconds folds from splintered Bill Orcutt-style broken guitar strings and thumb piano and into a sort of music box lullaby swallowed by apocalyptic industrial electronics. it makes no sense, and therefore makes all the sense in the world.
It’s hard to get excited by new labels when there is such a glut of new ones emerging pretty much every day, but Doyenne has a real shot at being a thing. We’re locked.
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