Artist: MARTENS MOANA, LIEVEN
Title: The Volcano, The Night That Precedes All, And A Hymn For Paul Gauguin
Label: No Basement Is Deep Enough
"A historical song, miming the season of the moon. Where, in an orchard of damp respiration, we listen to the breath of a supreme figure. Who is clearing nine paths. Who is singing a floating cycle through the shrubs.
The shaping of the tide. When the white bird is about to warble stepping stones. Stones on where we will sit and roar. And salmoura will scatter, mixing salt with water. And this salt will carve our skins. And our vessels will be liberated from the silt. And our ballads will flock and smite. And we will invent, the useless light.
Hear, the melodies grow ripe on the stem. Scent, the fragrance of the blossoms fills the air.
Paul Gauguin felt lonely. Therefore he journeyed to a village at the other side of the island, to find himself a wife. The locals complimented his arrival with a banquet. There was some singing and some talking. Various fruits, vegetables and meats were shared. And afterwards he rode his horse back to his shanty. Taking home with him a beautiful, and young, ornamental person. A few months ago, I sat in a bar in the heart of darkness, being Paris - France. Drinking Pastis with five Tahitians who did not look like they fell out of a Gauguin painting. Drinks and laughs were shared. And in the end I asked them to sing a traditional song. Thus we went outside, and under a useless light the Tahitians sung towards the night. I pressed the recording button, and took home with me, this ornamental song. The Himene Tarava is a French Polynesian musical tradition, being sung by groups or choirs – which can be fairly large - in a rhythmal, polyphonic way. A notable element is the change in pitch at the end of each phrase. Furthermore, the chants are accompanied by handclapping and, or rhythmic staccato syllables, sung by the male members of the group.
When the night of static balance is being flooded by the day of evolution. We use the icon of the volcano as a reminiscence. And as a fortune-teller. On the Maldives, lava means “a song”. A combination of tones that precedes everything, attends everything and comes after everything. Magma (I), where the voices mime wayward lines and movements of the unsettling thrusts in the magma chamber. When the female strength manifests. The Eruption (II), a transitive and ascending sound, increasing its vigor, bursting into an ecstatic silence. The ocean of silence. The expiration, Alle Menschen Werden Steinen (III), where the birds and frogs sing the gong. And where the lava’s path embraces emblems of pahoehoe. We are born into this ocean of silence." - Lieven Martens Moana.
“Ltd. to 65 hand-numbered copies and comes in an effusive eruption of Magia and Medronho.” - No Basement Is Deep Enough.