A Closer Listen
What a joy to see the release of The Amazon – Where the Moon Wept, a happy dream come true for Izabela Dłużyk and a wish fulfilled for our readers, who will remember the artist from her albums Soundscapes of Spring and Soundscapes of Summer, recorded in her native Slovenia. Blind since birth, yet possessing a “particular sensitivity to sound,” Dłużyk is the field recording version of Marvel Comics’ Daredevil. Her lifelong wish: to travel to the Amazon and experience its immersive sounds. Thanks to a crowdfunding campaign and the good people at LOM, she was able to visit the Peruvian rain forest’s Tambopata National Reserve, and to return with this album chronicling her adventures. Those who have not yet visited the Amazon can hear vicariously through her ears.
The double disc is divided into day and night pars, “Encounters at Daylight” and “Whispers from the Dark.” The accompanying liner notes operate as a travel journal, beginning with the story of the unrequited love between the Sun and the Moon, whose tears were rejected by the ocean and became the Amazon river. And so the journey begins.
These are pure, unadorned field recordings, as close as possible to being there. Dłużyk is up and out before dawn, drinking in the last of the evening sounds. The final cries of the tawny-bellied screech owl give way to the awakening of the red howler monkeys. While one species rules the night, the other appears in the day, introducing a brand new biophany. But neither of these can compete with a surprisingly subdued dawn chorus. Dłużyk writes that the rainforest runs on a tight schedule, like bands at a festival; because there are so many birds that they would drown each other out, each has its own place in the lineup. Returning on a different day, she finds the field dominated by clay-eating parrots, who accumulate in number and sound until they are dislodged by a herd of white-lipped peccaries.
Dłużyk’s research is as impeccable as her ear. In “Late Morning” alone she identifies “the three-striped rocket frog, imperial tamarins, white-throated toucan, screaming piha, dusky titi monkeys, Spix’s guans” and many more. Her ear is so good that she can identify not only the yellow-romped cacique and the Lawrence’s thrush, but the species they imitate. In “Out of the Blue,” a dronelike sound emerges, those peculiar howler monkeys, reverberating like Tibetan throat singers. Pihas communicate in “The louder, the better,” some of the now-familiar characters make their final plea for someone with whom to spend the night, squirrel monkeys grab an evening snack and perhaps another for the overnight, the parrots fly to roost, and as day turns to night, the biophany flips like a record, the “Frog chorus at dusk” like the first track of an Amazonian Side B.
Dłużyk calls the Amazonian dusk and night “the reign of frogs and cicadas,” writing that again, the players change hour to hour. “Frog chorus at dusk” serves as an overture to the twelve-hour night. If New York City is the city that never sleeps, the rainforest is the environment that never sleeps, as proven by these pristine recordings: multiple species of frogs, owls, and finally the pale-winged trumpeter and Northern olingo. The quarter-hour “Tropical Storm” closes the album, a reminder that these storms can last for days, but that they provide essential nourishment for flora and fauna alike. The moon may be weeping, but her tears are put to good use. When the deluge ends and the thunder subsides, the forest creatures reemerge to compare notes, to forage and to mate.
Many times movie directors have traveled to the Amazon, shot hundreds of hours of footage and distilled them into two and a half hour films. Few of these films have had as many characters, as much coherence, as much raw energy and authenticity as The Amazon – Where the Moon Wept. One need not see in order to have vision, and on this album, Izabela Dłużyk has constructed a compelling narrative that brings new life to an already lush soundscape. (Richard Allen)
Mon Sep 09 00:01:19 GMT 2024