Macrogramma :: Magnetic Series (Lᴏɴᴛᴀɴᴏ Series)

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For Macrogramma, the medium evidently brings with it, more than nostalgia’s facile allure, in contrast to digital’s infinite possibility, an intransigence forcing definitive choices.

Matteo Mariano professes to have always had a deep connection with magnetic tape, identifying the medium closely with the late ’80s musical experimentation of his youth: ‘every recording, every edit, every sound etched onto those tapes represented my first naive steps into the world of music’ and, further, it was ‘a way to explore, to get to know myself and the sounds I could create.’ It all changed in the late ’90s with the advent of more immediate and versatile technologies (minidisc, HD recording) that made regular interaction with tape seem outmoded. However, part of the driver of its demise, its physicality, also proved to be key to its salvation; ‘but that magic, that physicality, was hard to replace,’ says Mariano, for whom the return of tape to the toolkit was avowedly somewhat slower than many post-digital experimentalists; more recent Macrogramma works have, however, sought more integral incorporation of tape elements—not as mere accessory, but as expressive end in themselves.

This is the context of Magnetic Series and its characterization as a ‘“quasi-concept” album, discontinuously composed over the past few years,’ built round tape manipulation, each track exploring the textures and sonic possibilities arising from the process; a set of tracks created 2020-2024 whose commonality is manipulation of tape in various forms—from cassette to reel-to-reel loops, slowed-down/sped-up tracks to an entire mix passed through tape. Mariano speaks of ‘an exploration of ghosts of the past, which I’ve carried with me for a long time as residual magnetizations,’ and these can be heard variously within the tracks’ contours: e.g. “Tape in A minor” bears spectral echoes of Eliane Radigue (and perhaps some of Phill Niblock) with their infinite sustain, while “Tape in G dorian” channels the spirit of Terry Riley. An analogy with photography may be noted, in that ‘some photographers swear film over digital. even though it is more expensive, fusier [sic], risk involved, requires patience and attention the results, some say, cannot be topped. this album’s magnetic tape manipulation is like that to digital.’ (artistreader, bc release page).

In closing, then, for Macrogramma, the medium evidently brings with it, more than nostalgia’s facile allure, in contrast to digital’s infinite possibility, an intransigence forcing definitive choices; it is, as Mariano puts it, ‘a creative process that permits no compromises,’ and, leaving the last word to him, ‘perhaps it’s this very unyielding nature that makes it so fascinating and valuable.’

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