Monk Illuminating A Manuscript — Man Is Only Breath And Shadow
The album Man Is Only Breath And Shadow is no exception to this focus, released through the inimitable Altar of Waste label on a limited run of twelve unnumbered copies. The CD comes in a heavy fold-over cover that houses a paper sleeve, there is artwork on both the back and front of the cover and also imprinted on the disc itself, with the sleeve entirely black - the entire set housed in a clear plastic bag. The images here are as to be expected from the rest of the projects output - old medieval imagery of monks at their parchment with their quill, a black bat against a white moon and three monks preparing a holy man's corpse inside his coffin. The projects very first release came back in June of last year and immediately began turning some heads - it was not long after the first string of self-released albums that labels Altar of Waste and Fall Into Void both picked up releases from the project and I would not be surprised if we are yet to see even more reputable 'Houses of HNW' delivering us more.
The project, I feel, is best summed up by the quote used in its Bandcamp description: "He who does not know how to write imagines it to be no labour, but although these fingers only hold the pen, the whole body grows weary." These delicate, quiet and superbly minimal walls remain impactful in spite of their minute scale and really aid the sense of morose contemplation that the thematic content suggests. In looking up this quote I discovered only a publication about 'copying' in the context of Perec and Warhol that has a small section on "the Age of the Scribe", in it the quote is literally attributed to an anonymous monk who left this message on the corner of a page they had been scribing. The anonymity of these scribes, their thankless task, the great labour they felt - these attributes serve well to reflect artists working on the fringes to this day - included among these the artist behind this project himself as well as the artist at the wheel of the label. I cannot stress enough how amazing Cory's attention to detail is when it comes to the packaging and presentation of releases - this album in particular serves as a great example of how he is able to keep things simple yet evocative - remaining true to both the label and the artist aesthetic in tandem.
The CD features two walls, one comes to half an hour exactly while the other runs a little longer at 34:40. An hour in two parts seems to be a favourite for a number of HNW artists and I can see why - although I myself tend to prefer it when artists choose the unorthodox route of weird timings, small walls, and so on. I decided to listen to the album on a CD Walkman that I have mentioned in a past review (one I received as a gift) with some nice headphones - this meant I had much less capability to ramp up the volume than if I had to decided to play the CD aloud from speakers. As such, the intended 'quietness' of these walls really became apparent whilst listening and, in my opinion, benefited it greatly.
The first track, 'breathing is a form of waiting' begins with a gradual fade from nothingness towards a subtle, soft shredding. As I listen closely and attempt to immerse myself I can't help but catch myself thinking about the sounds relative to how I create my own HNW and how this wall feels very much like a 'remnant', something not exactly whole, like a shadow of a sound. Listening, I recall walking up to my room - returning upon having left HNW recording aloud - and gradually hearing the creeping swell of static. This wall feels like those first, initial crumbles accompanying the deep bass hum, where the walls presence is not readily apparent but just on the cusp of being so - and as time went on in the opening minutes, I was surprised to find that I continued to think of things that I was relating to the sound, rather than completely 'zoning out' due to the immersive nature of the sounds. The quietness keeps the wall as seeming 'creeping' throughout whilst also removing the listeners ability to keenly discern definitive shifts or changes in the walls development, creating an implied uniformity that you are constantly uncertain of as the wall seems to ebb and flow. The spurting crunchiness of the wall seems to suggest a mechanical quality, while this aforementioned uncertainty implies something organic and monotonously pulsating - this strange coupling of opposites come together to serve the purpose of allowing the listener a rich, delicate world of sound on a microscopic scale. The wall closes with a short fade much like the one it began with, disappearing as softly and eloquently as it appeared.
The second track, 'ink is the shadow of the mind', begins in much the same manner but presents us with a slightly deeper tone of crunching, punctuating by a palpable medley of more than one layer of stratum. The movement between these layers makes up an interesting and noticeably discernable pattern of shifting changes that, while they might in fact be uniform, seem to present something that the first wall was lacking. The interplay of these patterns here couldn't help but remind me of listening to a downpour of rain from a window - with the different pitches of rainfall competing at odd rhythms, some lands in puddles, some on the metal surfaces of cars, some on stone roofing. As such, this wall, while seeming a bit muted compared to the last as it is deeper, also seems more lively and agitated. It is interesting that it is most likely these qualities that pushed me into much more of a 'stupor of immersion', one I was unable to achieve listening to the prior track. I wonder if it was perhaps on some level intentional, that the track which openly references 'waiting' was unable to plunge me fully into the therapeutic depths of static immersion I'm used to from most HNW, and the track which openly references "the mind" did so very quickly. It's most likely a total coincidence - as monotonous and uniform as these sounds seem at surface-level, I think there is really something very subjective when it comes to their ability to affect the listener. A great HNW or ANW album tends to get me thinking about how wall noise is made, how it is received and other such questions and this album did exactly that - I can only apologise for my tendency to ramble! Often this album was able to keep my mind alive in ways that I find utterly impossible to properly describe with the written word - and I can't help but think how this very experience of being unable to creatively illuminate my listening experience with words relates back to the themes of the release and the project itself. While it might appear I was successful in this review, I can guarantee you there are numerous aspects I was completely unable to translate.
It is unsurprising that the release is now long sold out from the label - although the artist may still retain some copies - having appeared in such a small run. I would recommend to anyone who is a fan of subtle, minimalistic ambient walls to pursue this project heavily - and to keep an eye out for the next physical edition to show up. I would also recommend you spend some time to look over the label's storenvy site (which currently lists 353 products, some sold out), as there are still some great titles in stock - the label is unfortunately coming towards the end of its days but it has had an amazing innings. This album was the 546th of the label catalogue!