Easily the finest and most complete experience in the Seven Pieces series to date.
In 2012, Pepijn Caudron openly solicited submissions from friends and Facebook followers that should take the form of short audio recordings relating their dreams or dreamlike experiences, to be used as sampled source material in his next Kreng project. It was a genuine and welcome surprise to discover that the next entry in Sonic Pieces’ seven-part Seven Pieces series of old-school seven inch singles (sorry, that’s enough alliteration now) would be that release.
The discs in this gorgeous series are housed in individually numbered, handmade, silk-screened tri-fold cardboard sleeves, to which a printed inner sleeve complete with liner-notes is mounted. If you intend to actually play the disc rather than use the download code included in the package you’ll need an adapter for your turntable, as the vinyl features the jukebox style, extra-large central hole in the center. This aesthetic choice might be inconvenient for some, but it really does add to the authentic, retro feel of the series.
Kreng’s output usually takes the form of lingering, long form LPs full of creeping dread, chilling samples and complex narrative devices, which Caudron took to another level entirely on the lavish five-disc box set, Works for Abattoir Fermé 2007 2011, released by Miasmah in late 2012. At just under ten minutes, …And then in the morning is a stark contrast to his usual work, but blissfully no less effective. The liner notes explain Caudron used to suffer from horrifying, waking dreams and nightmares, the memory of which have inspired him for many years.
The name of the single and title track …And then in the morning is taken from a line of dialog spoken by Helen Chandler playing Mina in the 1931 version of Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’ starring Bela Lugosi. The sample is included here, and she describes her vivid “nightmare” of a red-eyed, vampiric visitation that left her physically drained the next morning against a backdrop of piano played by a listless and lonely figure with the distant chiming of bells, writhing through curls of mist and fog.
The haunted atmospherics of “Introduccion” describe a phantasmal, moonlit Flamenco dance though a cold, dank tomb, spectral vocal wails echoing, staggering improv piano echoing through its confines, the percussion a flapping, disoriented bat creature as it flits, darts and rebounds off the overgrown, ivy covered walls.
The ominously titled “The Baptist” concludes in surprisingly ambiguous, cathedralic style as Susana Meza softly recounts in short, broken sentences being blindfolded and silently driven to the ocean. At first this evokes anxiety and fear as the swathes of dark, moody strings seethe and simmer as if in the shadow of an ominous, floating black ziggurat. But it then becomes clear that this is actually a romantic journey, and soon the mise-en-scene luxuriates in soft, warm rain on a salt-sprayed beach, the roiling white-horses of the sea just visible in the fading twilight.
Seven inch singles are something of a niche market today, but …And then in the morning is easily the finest and most complete experience in the Seven Pieces series to date, its slight length working in its favor to create a perfectly self-contained minisode. An absolute must have for lovers of dark ambient, modern classical and Miasmah/Sonic Pieces collectors alike.
…And then in the morning is available on Sonic Pieces.
