A Closer Listen
In 2020, Francisco López released a 12-hour, 138-track set celebrating 40 years of sound art. This year, he has released an 11-hour album; so one might say his albums are getting shorter. A better way to put it would be to say that his albums are generous, and lend themselves to multiple modes of listening.
HIMAVANTA begins with a “short version;” 52:49 of sounds that cover all the bases of the longer version. This operates as an overture, opening windows to the listener. These field recordings were made in 2022 during Thailand’s monsoon season, when the artist travelled to multiple rain forests. Only occasionally does one hear the hand of López as he makes sonic choices: an unnatural shift here and there, a turn in the timbre. These are more apparent in the short version, by necessity. In the fifth minute, the sound of insects gives way to water, birds and (we think) monkeys, what one might call a classic rainforest biophany. One might view the different rain forests as songs, the short version as a medley; but it is also a story, as López chooses where each square of the sonic quilt will rest.
Some of the most exciting moments arrive as rain begins to fall. This is no ordinary rain, but a series of drenching downpours. The forest creatures continue to make noise, in the nineteenth minute nearly drowned by the deluge. A jarring transition at 23:45 means not that the rain has ended, but that the location has changed; from this point the sonic density and tension begin to increase again, with frogs and dogs in seemingly different worlds while the crickets and cicadas provide a treble drone. After ten minutes the drone grows so loud that one wonders if this is a studio enhancement; either way, one senses that the tension is again about to break. When the thunderclouds let loose, their cacophony is almost a relief.
After experiencing this exquisite hour, one is given nine choices of where to head next: a series of rabbit holes, each of them engaging in their own way. The eleventh minute contains some strange, dronelike sounds; one yearns to know more. In like manner, listeners in areas of drought might be drawn to the segments of thunderstorms; those in areas of flood may yearn for the drier moments; birders and biologists may gravitate toward the creature cries. Others – who simply enjoy sound art for its ambient properties – might choose the one that fits their current mood. There’s no right or wrong way to listen, as the album imitates the Choose Your Adventure books. The best part of the diverging paths is that one is able to zero in on a particular biophany and encounter its sonic wealth. Each journey takes approximately an hour to complete.
“part 2” is one of the most exciting, with non-stop action and a wide array of characters. While there’s a nagging suspicion that the dronelike sounds may be coming from industry, endangering the rainforest, the denizens seem not to notice. The wild barking of a dog suggests the presence of humans; the continuation of the sound despite a downpour suggests that the artist may be making a statement on the dangers from logging and other encroachments. The closing minutes contain some of the albums thickest precipitation; nature will have the final say.
“part 4” begins with some of the lowest frequencies and presents a variety of weather conditions, leading to an intense contrast and a rich avian symphony. The crisp drizzle allows one to hear the birds as they emerge to forage and mate. Soft, flowing water carries the segment to its end. Some very insistent birds approach the microphone in the closing minutes, chirping loudly and splashing in the nearby stream. “part 8” is another personal favorite, starting with the buzz of an insect and easing into the forest with a gradual rise of density and volume. My preferences reveal my tastes; some may prefer to follow the frogs and birds, while I prefer to seek the streams and storms. No matter what one’s preference, there’s a biophany to match.
The artist pleads with the listener to play these sounds on “decent headphones or speakers,” lest the intricacies and low end be lost. Even better than a superior sound system is the forest nearest one’s home, which features natural surround sound. López spent an incredible amount of time in the field capturing these recordings, then even more time mastering and arranging. To listen is to spend half a day in the rainforests of Thailand; but even more, the set urges listeners to connect with the immersive, majestic power of the natural world. (Richard Allen)
Sat Nov 02 00:01:04 GMT 2024