Showing posts with label Chihei Hatakeyama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chihei Hatakeyama. Show all posts

CHIHEI HATAKEYAMA
"Scene" C40
(Constellation Tatsu)




Chihei Hatakeyama doesn’t play somber ambient guitar drone so much as he channels and soundtracks a ceaseless coastal fog sleepily drifting in from the Pacific’s serene bed towards all awakened ports. These gentle, airy, ambient ghost-shanties whispering eternally & without hint of anchor are the recycled mists of Sisyphean tears microtonally eddying & fluttering in binaural glisten, their atmosphere a stoic haunting in the most neutral way conceivable.

Scandinavia may have the hottest guitar licks on the planet, but Japan’s got the most chill, by far.

http://www.ctatsu.com/portfolio/scene/
and/or
http://www.chihei.org/

-- Jacob An Kittenplan

CHIHEI HATAKEYAMA
“You’re Still In It” C36
(Constellation Tatsu)




Constellation Tatsu has a knack for releasing brilliant works by young, Japanese, ambient-drone sound sculptors (see: Hakobune & Celer), and Chihei Hatakeyama fits the bill, 110%.

What strikes me most about this microtonal soundbath is my own subjective relationship with it -the content is dictated by mood- and I’ve perceived each side in so many different ways that I’m not sure where I stand on the schizophrenic-spectrum anymore. Maybe I can blame it on the tape? Let me plead my case!

At first, I felt bathed in droning, layered sunshine, perfect-temp breezes, ants respectfully tickling my toes, but never ascending past the ankle. Days later, I was trapped in a spiteful-god-directed, single ray of condemnation, trapped in time, Sisyphus waking with stretched hand to wrap knuckles against that goddamned pebble of doom. Yet, day after that, a calm, Equinoxious ambiguity playfully flirted with paranoia more than I’d meta-prefer to. The perceptions continue to evolve, consonance and dissonance cross-dressing into omniscient oblivion.

Another big plus, when turned up, is how frequency amplification varies greatly, depending on my position to the room/speakers. Since realizing this, I’ve longed for the capability to self-decapitate so that I might sway my head about the cabin and drink this wild ride up from yet another myriad of possibilities. Seems I’ve been living in Berkeley far too long.

and/or


- - Jacob An Kittenplan