Panegyric 2024
Aeolus:
One Hour Duduk Meditation
In and out of one’s psyche, master of the winds scopes the inescapable sound behind a reverie.
Theo Travis may not be famous for his forays into folk, but the Brit’s work with SOFT MACHINE, KING CRIMSON and GONG- must strongly suggest, even to the uninitiated, that there’s no genre frontiers to his sonic experiments – and, what’s important, that his experiments are often located on a non-flaming end of dynamic spectrum. Here’s why, not opposing the view of duduk as the saddest instrument in the world but finding such an opinion rather limited in emotional terms, because the aural output of the Armenian instrument is also uplifting, Travis went exploring its possibilities. And the online success of his first hour-long attempt to harness the variety of moods inherent to this musical device proved Theo’s standpoint. Spectacularly so – enough to dive deeper and come up with “Aeolus”: a temporary pinnacle of his mastery of the form.
Travis’ idea was to present his composition as an axis of a surround mix he created with Steven Wilson, and the Blu-ray part of the album’s package does include the multidimensional panorama, alongside the high-definition display of “Ancient Soul, Modern Times” – the same mesmeric melody Theo charmed his YouTube audience with – only it can deduct from the overall wonder instead of enhancing one’s experience. While the very nature of spatial audio will contradict the meditative aspect of “Aeolus” by offering a false recursion, or self-reference, via inviting the listener to fathom the depths of their inner cosmos in the course of immersing their senses into external sound, the piece’s stereo variant ought to provide a perfect environment for an exercise like this. As cinematically exciting as James Last’s “The Lonely Shepherd” and as evocatively adventurous as Miles Davis’ reading on “Concierto de Aranjuez” – and, perhaps, duduk must be located between pan pipes and trumpet in the wind instruments array – the ever-shifting tune enfolds every fiber of those who lend their ears, and their entire psyche, to the tone-rich top line and to the ethereal backdrop, where flute passages and electronic shimmer blend to stage expectancy of rapture.
Unhurried, albeit never slow in unfurling its feelings – yes, plural, for there’s a whole gamut of spiritual layers – but never effusive either, and sometimes deliberately unfocused, if not amorphous, “Aeolus” fills the room and mindspace yet doesn’t leave the expanse without air. It’s a living and breathing entity which sometimes loses amplitude in favor of intensity that could be hellishly glacial had it not been so warm and so high on emphatic empathy, and sometimes tightens its grip on one’s cerebral cortex to bring forth the most majestic perspective of existential balance – this sublime equilibrium of bliss and anxiety. And though Theo Travis would go on to take “October Moon” to a two-hour mark, “Aeolus” is bound to remain the standard his further explorations should get measured against.
*****
