The frightening ubiquity of artificial intelligence can be enough to concern any artist who possesses even a modicum of creative dignity. However, acclaimed Canadian composer Andrew Staniland offers a refreshing deployment of innovations; one that, in the words of a recent press release, “emphasizes rather than approximates humanity”.
In collaboration with the Memorial ElectroAcoustic Research Lab (MEARL) at Memorial University College in St. John’s, Newfoundland, Staniland has been working for the last several years on the digital instrument JADE, a versatile tool that, according to the press release, “expands upon conventional tactile means of performing music, employing sensors that measure environmental traits such as humidity, temperature and elevation as well as ones that can read brain waves in real time.”
Experimenting with JADE, and through a commission from Kittiwake Dance Theatre in St. John’s, improvisation workshops took place where the dancers would individually wear an EEG headband and experiment with movement. At the same time, brain waves were “sonified” in real time. Recording these results in MIDI and audio, they became the six “Dancer Portraits” on The Laws of Nature. The title suite, meanwhile, is a more involved composition, turning the material from the portrait series into six interwoven movements.
With all this backstory and exposition, one might dismiss such a concept as cold and clinical until they hear the results. The 12 tracks on The Laws of Nature are a warm, adventurous sonic ride, one that takes process-based composition and execution to new levels. The opening notes of “Dancer No. 1” invoke the jittery notes of upright piano sounds over warm washes of sustained notes, gently guiding the listener into the experience. “Dancer No. 2” incorporates a more exotic electronic atmosphere, bringing to mind bits of vaporwave and subtle hints of dance beats.
As the movements progress, Staniland introduces slabs of spacey, ethereal vocalizing, orchestral moments dotted with piano and cello, tense, music box-inspired melodies, and widescreen, cinematic sonic imagery. By contrast, the title suite is more composed and also more eclectic: while “Interweave” is a percussive, light industrial stomp, “Duet” is a far more experimental pairing of percussion and voice.
While “The Web” brings to mind an intergalactic take on Laurie Anderson, the closing title track packs an emotional punch with an almost gospel-flavored melody that’s carried along by thorny strings, percussion, and an odd aesthetic that perfectly pairs wild, unconventional arrangements with heart-tugging chord sequences.
The relatively short run times of each piece help the songs remain fresh, and the mix of ambient and experimental textures opens up the album’s possibilities. Listening to all 12 sections of Andrew Staniland’s new album, one gets the sense of an artist who is uninterested in boundaries or hurrying a song’s progression for the sake of moving on to the next one. These songs live in their respective moments, and they are moments to be savored.