Reviews

Loop

With his debut album, Justin Varis, the Los Angeles-based musician behind Claudia, inaugurates a new musical direction for Sheffield's Audiobulb Records. Claudia showcases minimal ambient electronica that makes exemplary use of musique concrète techniques.

We've Met Before, When We Were... interlaces out of tune piano filigree, low voltage electronics, somnolent tonal smears, the repetitive sequence of domestic appliances and household articles (sewing machines, tooth brushes, tennis balls, cutlery), faint streaks of noise and a merry menagerie of acoustic instruments. With this record the listener is allowed a privileged glimpse of the shape of things to come from Audiobulb.

Textura

Claudia's We've Met Before, When We Were … represents a dramatic departure from past Audiobulb releases. On his debut album, LA-based Justin Varis largely frees himself from conventional time structures and rhythms, opting instead to sculpt eccentric sound settings from found sounds and acoustic instruments. The resultant audio narratives meander dramatically, especially when he gives three of them extended running times, the longest 17 minutes in duration. Varis builds upon musique concrete traditions to create an album of deeply idiosyncratic and explorative sound studies.

The album sometimes approximates a visit to Claudia's workshop with Varis delightedly demonstrating the myriad sounds his noise-making objects and toys produce. In “Holding Hands/Arm In Arm,” he electronically processes piano note repetitions and incorporates scissors sounds, the swishing noises of a toothbrush, a woman's lecturing voice, hammering, and tinkling melodies. “Me & My Tornado (Part B)” could even be the audio record of a technician's audition with the candidate showcasing his entire catalogue of sounds: percussive pops, poured liquids, squeals, horns, whirrs, et al.

Such playfulness is interesting but only for so long and Varis wisely shifts the focus during the album's later pieces. He radically stretches and warps piano playing throughout “Things Getting Better Here, Miss You Dearly” in a way that recalls Institutional Collaborative, Terre Thaemlitz's collaboration with Jane Dowe. To his credit, Varis never bludgeons the listener with noise but rather quietly and patiently shapes his narratives, confident that the listener will be engrossed enough by the material to stay focused. Varis generally succeeds though the journey can be wearying when the ever-changing scenery demands one's constant attention for a full 74 minutes. Still, just when one expects fatigue to set in, specifically with the arrival of the penultimate 15-minute epic “Just Ask Me,” Varis entrances the listener with the album's most becalmed setting, a lovely paradisiacal evocation where time feels wholly suspended. 

Igloo Magazine

Critiquing a musician's work is as subjective as looking at a piece of art and doing the same. Personal taste, preference, and tolerance all play a role in whether or not the sounds you take a listen to are appealing. 

That said, I guess I'm never going to jump on the bandwagon of music like Claudia's. Whatever you'd call it sub Glitch or scratch Glitch, or some other term for the electronic subgenre… it's not for me.

We've met before, when we were… is the debut release of Justin Varis on Audiobulb Records. It's nine tracks of disjointed bleeps, astringent clicks and harsh non-sequiturs. And while I'm sure there are plenty of electronica-philes out there who will enjoy this CD, it just lacks the soul and the flavor that I'm partial to.

This is not music for those who need a hook, a beat, a groove, or a pleasant background soundtrack. It's a mish-mash of noise, a collage of samples put together with no apparent rhyme or reason. Hey, I appreciate a musician's artistic license to experiment and do whatever moves them. I just can't appreciate this particular effort. My ears demand something less harsh and experimental. But that's just a matter of personal taste.  

Sonic Curiosity

his CD from 2006 offers 74 minutes of experimental weirdness. Claudia is Justin Varis, a young composer from Los Angeles who pursues a highly eccentric sonic vision.

Instrumentation varies, and the uses are never predictable or conventional. Piano notes may be jammed between metallic tapping. Vocal snippets float in a sea of low voltage electronics, contrasting found sound with cybernetic aggression. Fragmentary plucked guitar notes are sliced into an atmospheric milieu of halting inconsistency. Chittering diodes are coaxed to provide sporadic tempos.

There is little cohesion or flow involved here. Varis' intentions seem dedicated to random structure with an accent on incarnate strangeness. Melodic elements coexist with atonal aspects. Single tracks jump all over the place, as if refusing to restrain themselves to any one focus. Although jarring, the result is very symbolic of modern life.

Vital Weekly

Behind Claudia is not a girl but a boy: Justin Varis from Los Angeles. I have no idea about what else he done in his life, but 'We've Met Before, When We Were' is his debut album and even when it's in realms of computer music, and perhaps even a bit ambient and atmospheric at times, this is quite an unusual album for Audiobulb Records. It's not the usual rhythm machines and ambient textures, but sounds culled from daily life, like tooth brushing, tennis balls or sewing machines, along with some real instruments, such as piano and guitar and a bit of computer processing, make this more like an audio diary than a piece of music. Sometimes the 'experiments' are a bit too simple and the sound drops in and out, like there has been some kind of recording mistake, but no doubt this is deliberate. It's all a bit too long free form for me, with not much idea of sense or direction. Just what is the idea behind all of this, other than showing some skill with the microphone and basic computer operation. But towards the end, the final two tracks, Claudia starts to make music, to compose and that is quite nice, it's something he should do more. Perhaps next time...

Hissig

Justin Varis, også kalt Claudia, er en lavmælt mann. Hans første utgivelse inneholder i stor grad små, simple motiv spilt på piano eller gitar, som manipuleres av elektroniske effekter. Med en amatørs begeistring kan han gjenta et knippe toner i nærmere 20 minutter på «Holding Hand/Arm in Arm». Fremdriften skapes ved hjelp av elektronikk og kollasjer av radiostøy og kjøkkenutstyr brukt som perkusjon. Det er noe beundringsverdig over artistens ønske om å fullstendig frigjøre seg fra konvensjonelle strukturerer, og konstrastere instrumentetenes klang opp mot konkrete hverdagslyder. Allikevel kunne jeg ønske at han i større grad unnlot de tilfeldige forvridningene på tonene, eller den overdrevne oppkuttingen, som i motsetning til den naive spillemåten, virker noe påtatt og overdrevet.

Claudia har en noe surrealistisk tilnærming til musikk. I beskrivelsen på Audiobulbs internettside nevner Varis blant annet «a nice seewing machine», som får meg til å tenke på førsurrealisten Comte de Lautréamont (som egentlig het Isidore Lucien Ducasse). Han er berømt for setningen: «Like vakkert som det tilfeldige møtet mellom en symaskin og en paraply på et operasjonsbord». Den blir sjelden presentert i den opprinnelige konteksten, der sammenstillingen av mostridene element ble brukt til å beskrive en ung gutt som den ultimate antihelten Maldoror var ute etter. Sitatet er i stedet blitt et slags epos for den surrealistiske bevegelsen. Ved begynnelsen av 1900-tallet malte de bilder med objekter og skikkelser som hadde lite med hverandre å gjøre, eller skrev dikt der ordene som fulgte hverandre ikke skapte meningsbærende setninger. På samme måte kan Claudia på sporet «Holding Hands, Arm in Arm» la den repeterende pianotonen avløses av fragmenterte setninger om paralelle linjer og lyden av noen som pusser tennene.

Jeg har aldri vært så nær en annen person at jeg har kunnet høre han eller henne puste gjennom nesen mens vedkommende børstet tennene med tannkosten, og det er heller ikke uten grunn. Vi har alle intimgrenser, og selv om dette er en ganske ubetydelig ting, så ville de fleste reagert negativt om man la øret helt inntil nesen deres mens de pusset tennene. Når jeg lytter til Claudia får jeg innimellom følelsen av at jeg trenger meg inn i noe privat, som egentlig ikke var ment for allmenheten. Store deler av We've Met Before, When We Were styres av en intern logikk som jeg ikke helt klarer å tyde.

Ikke alt føles derimot som å kike inn i et fotoalbum med bilder av en familie du ikke kjenner. «Things Getting Better Here, Miss You Dearly» er en potensiell sonate som i stedet blir skåret opp og satt sammen igjen på en fragmentert måte. Men som med beskrivelsen til Lautreamonte så gir det på en eller annen merkelig måte mening. «Just Ask Me» er det vakreste sporet på hele platen, der pianotonene er gnidd utover til hammerens slag mot strengene forsvinner fullstendig. Tilbake flyter bare ressonansene forbi, som regntunge skyer, og man kan ikke annet enn la seg bevege.

Med denne utgivelsen viser plateselskapet Audiobulb en vilje til å la de virkelig eksperimentelle artistene få slippe til. Musikken er vanskelig, men ikke ugjennomtrengelig. Varis er kanskje lavmælt, men han har funnet sin egen stemme. Han roper ikke høyt nok til å hevde seg i toppsjiktet, men materialet, og da spesielt de siste 25 minuttene lover godt. Jeg ser definitivt fram til vårt neste møte på disseksjonsbordet.