So much to say....
Without kowtowing to the art industry, which so often revels in the superficially spectacular, Fescal goes his own way with success and deliberate devotion.
Music is like a cordial invitation to roam through the endless reaches of sensual experience with open ears. It sees itself as a constantly renewed invitation to reflect. It sensitizes our powers of perception and allows us to track down the subtleties of the particular in what appears to be ordinary. It opens up uncommon perspectives, which lead us to the heart of the priceless moment while showing us glimpses of vast horizons. It takes a definite stance against the strategies of superficial effects and the frenzy of our media-permeated civilization so overwhelmed by sounds and images.
Instead, it propagates a measured search for relevance and truthfulness.
Fescal is a mind with intrinsic aesthetic disposition: the combination of a virtually seismographic, sensitivity for sounds with a structurally oriented, analytical-critical compositional perspective.
What most of Fescals’ works have in common is the treatment of familiar or apparently familiar materials, but not in the sense of simplistic, brainless quotations, of a self-service dip into the well-filled coffers of the musical past in a practise that has long since become acceptable in a polite musical society.
Vividly he propels into our consciousness the fact that the sound of an uncovered drone or that of a field recording, for example, always projects the aura of a greater context along with it; obtaining qualities through a carefully conceived structural integration of traditional moments of intervals, tone colors or gestures.
The sounds are, in his own words, "taken doubly seriously: as historically familiar sounds and as sounds that can be physically and acoustically disassembled, and thus recomposed and reformulated"
This use of gestures, however, increasingly betrays its true nature as a superficial foil. The joints of the writing begin to fill out niches, and what one always subliminally sensed is now heard in reality: echoes of harmonics subtly flashing like lightning, or tension-laden stillness as a phase of intent listening or in expectation of the next event.
Often viewing composing as a means of directly confronting the idea or the imagination with something against, which, it must rub itself. Thus, so in the hope that "an idea can develop itself with more complexity when it is a kind of impediment to itself." Sounds reveal something akin to a breakdown or pulverization of form, including the overall formal design. Work proceeds to interrupt - or perhaps we should use the word, shatter' - it calls itself into question.
All the same, this breakdown of form also brings about a new florescence of musical shapes that have not yet hardened into convention, or at least have nothing discernibly conventional about them.
Music is like a cordial invitation to roam through the endless reaches of sensual experience with open ears. It sees itself as a constantly renewed invitation to reflect. It sensitizes our powers of perception and allows us to track down the subtleties of the particular in what appears to be ordinary. It opens up uncommon perspectives, which lead us to the heart of the priceless moment while showing us glimpses of vast horizons. It takes a definite stance against the strategies of superficial effects and the frenzy of our media-permeated civilization so overwhelmed by sounds and images.
Instead, it propagates a measured search for relevance and truthfulness.
Fescal is a mind with intrinsic aesthetic disposition: the combination of a virtually seismographic, sensitivity for sounds with a structurally oriented, analytical-critical compositional perspective.
What most of Fescals’ works have in common is the treatment of familiar or apparently familiar materials, but not in the sense of simplistic, brainless quotations, of a self-service dip into the well-filled coffers of the musical past in a practise that has long since become acceptable in a polite musical society.
Vividly he propels into our consciousness the fact that the sound of an uncovered drone or that of a field recording, for example, always projects the aura of a greater context along with it; obtaining qualities through a carefully conceived structural integration of traditional moments of intervals, tone colors or gestures.
The sounds are, in his own words, "taken doubly seriously: as historically familiar sounds and as sounds that can be physically and acoustically disassembled, and thus recomposed and reformulated"
This use of gestures, however, increasingly betrays its true nature as a superficial foil. The joints of the writing begin to fill out niches, and what one always subliminally sensed is now heard in reality: echoes of harmonics subtly flashing like lightning, or tension-laden stillness as a phase of intent listening or in expectation of the next event.
Often viewing composing as a means of directly confronting the idea or the imagination with something against, which, it must rub itself. Thus, so in the hope that "an idea can develop itself with more complexity when it is a kind of impediment to itself." Sounds reveal something akin to a breakdown or pulverization of form, including the overall formal design. Work proceeds to interrupt - or perhaps we should use the word, shatter' - it calls itself into question.
All the same, this breakdown of form also brings about a new florescence of musical shapes that have not yet hardened into convention, or at least have nothing discernibly conventional about them.
