Hatami coaxes the seed out of its pod, through the soil and into harsh sunlight before a moment of silence preceeds a drawn-out keen to its withering, dessicated synthesizer threads crumpling and bowing downward.
Ambient landscaping of field recordings made around Sanandaj, Iran, expressing the growth and “sudden decline” of the morus tree, a medium-sized, short-lived mulberry, according to the Encyclopedia of Life.
On this brief, tiny disc Porya Hatami slims the hurly-burly of city traffic down into one, thin rushing stream as a deep, earthen tone rises below. With meticulous detail, Hatami coaxes the seed out of its pod, through the soil and into harsh sunlight before a moment of silence preceeds a drawn-out keen to its withering, dessicated synthesizer threads crumpling and bowing downward. The Waning Branches, a plaint to inevitability, is one of Hatami’s most precious and affecting works thus far.
The breathtaking packaging featuring cartographic details of Kurdistan, photographs and paintings is so intricately tucked and folded you may never get it back together again. Good thing it looks so good all spread out.
The Waning Branches is available on Wistrec.
