2nd CD release by 0/R, the collaborative project of Richard Chartier and Japanese artist Nosei Sakata (*0). While the first cd 0/r suggested a sense of chaos with its jarring and syncopated digital sound, Varied utilizes much more refined compositional techniques to create highly deliberate passages of whispering sine waves, extreme frequencies, and looping rhythms of noise and detailed sonic pops.
Stereophonically distributed rhythmic clicks are a familiar sound in the world of glitch. Once they provided an ironic commentary on analogue recordings: digital perfection reproducing the crackle content of dodgy vinyl and employing it as a rhythmic resource. Elevating the status of the flaws of music reproduction over music itself was tongue-in-cheek iconoclasm, and that, coupled with a return to musical fundamentals, made for a stripped down soundworld that was strangely familiar but fundamentally strange. Nowadays such methods can come over as cliched tiresome. But 0/r – Nosei Sakata (trading under the moniker *0, which means ‘multiplied by zero,’ ie: nothing) and Richard Chartier – create a largely abstract music which avoids traps set by familiarity. Chartier’s lowercase electronic compositions have been heard on a number of labels including Trente Oiseaux, Meme and Fallt. He’s the founder of LINE, whose products are described as “digital, conceptual, minimalist sound art.” Not just music, then. Should we listen to Varied with an altered mindset because it’s sound art? Are the aesthetics different, or just the terms of reference? Here, with Sakata, Chartier uses rhythm to a greater degree than on his solo recordings, although the results are far from motoric. And despite Sakata’s solo work being described as “compterised anti-music” exploring “the conceptual aspect of implied silence,” this collaborative effort is extremely musical. It makes telling use of space rather than silence – implied or otherwise. The cd’s nine pieces, all entitled “varied,” might constitute a suite, but it’s not a cohesive one, like the title suggests. Yet it works particularly well on shuffle play, in which the spaces around sound events are fractionally reconfigured. As the narrative possibilities increase, they become ever more elusive.
—The Wire, UK
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Second CD on 12k of the collaborative project of Richard Chartier and renowned japanese minimalist sine wave technician *O, aka Nosei Sakata. Less jarring in it’s realization then the out of press early title, this CD flows along abstract highways of delicate whispering sine waves, frequency tweaking exploration, looping low end rumblings, white noise and rhythmic detailed sonic pops. Still graceful enough for the 12k/line sound but with a nod to the mischief of Mego in places. A cut above.
—Boomkat, UK
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Implications of nothingness result in unexpectedly vast microcosmic experiences as Nosei Sakata (*0) and Richard Chartier again recombine into 0/R, applying their digitally enhanced senses of subatomic sound to VARIED minuscule situations. Like an audio-Rorschach of sonic molecules (or perhaps the emissions of a stuttering Morse Coder), the staccato microblits and increasingly chirpy humcycles of VARIED_03:43 are open to interpretation. Within a deep droning expanse, sizzlier VARIED_04:06 seems to brood in a scattering of firecracker fuses that never bang; eventually almost-music seeps in on brief swirls. Mesmerizing! In VARIED_06:48, periods of stillness are separated by recurring thumps, then ripples, sputters and occasionally, metallic little notelets. Between strands of popping particles and distant insectile thrumming, VARIED_05:00 also manages to let out a few muted chimes of near-tonality. Semirhythmic thumps are encircled by high tonal specks which chime in split-second intervals as VARIED_09:07 does whatever it’s doing longer than the others.
With all relevant cues stripped away, it’s hard to tell… but VARIED_03:26 exists in a kind of eerie droneworld of writhing electron mists. Low energies pulse from the heart of eighth-and-final VARIED_07:00 accompanied by indistinct murmurs… undeniably intriguing. Not-so-much virtual silence is semi-regularly interrupted by nanomechanical entities which chitter, pip and click t hrough VARIED teeny-tiny circumstances conceived and executed by the 0/R equation. I may not always know what’s going on exactly, but this time around I’m not frustratingly deaf to the enigmatic occurrences, so can enjoy their obtuse a nti-musical goings-on at least on that level. Dazzlingly indefinable and expertly accomplished despite my sometimes-sassy demeanor… A-
—Ambientrance, US
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the second collaboration with Japanese Nosei Sakata (*0) published with the nickname 0/R, a small labyrinth of microexplosions, almost unnoticed pyrotechnics, pops and creaking grains strategically placed in the space-time shoal which seem to have the precise destination to converge towards some alien melodic form.
—Blow Up, Italy
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This is the second installment of their collaboration: America’s Richard Chartier and *0, aka Nosei Sakata. They are both, each in their own way, radical composers. Chartier’s work is usually very low in volume and long in duration, Nosei is usually loud and rhythmic. Together they offer eight tracks, which is the best of both their worlds. From low end drones, to high pitched beeps and the looped samples of concrete sounds (like the musicbox in ‘Varied_06:48’), it’s not easy to access music. The dynamics are great, from the soft to loud, and the ideas per track minimal, but with enough action to keep you alert. A release that works best, I think, when played so loud that the softest volume is heard. The smallest details are revealed in there, and the tiny movements become apperent. The more rhythmic pieces, like the first and the fifth, hark back to the best of Pan Sonic or Goem, with a continous rhythm being played and the processing that takes place on top. One could easily conclude that this is indeed a varied CD of various approaches of microsound.
—Vital Weekly, The Netherlands
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0/R is *0 (Nosei Sakata) and Richard Chartier, two artists on the outer fringes of audibility. If you took their combined output (a dozen or so releases) and added all the sounds up, the results would still barely register on most stereo systems. In fact, Sakata’s 0.000 consists entirely of sound that can’t be heard by human ears, and Chartier’s Of Surfaces is almost equally inaudible. These guys, in short, have made careers out of creating music no one can hear. So, what aboutVaried? Well, it’s a lot more musical than earlier *0 and Chartier efforts, but that’s not saying much. Actually, it’s probably one of the most esoteric works released on the 12k label, a work that’s subsumed in the minutiae of grain synthesis, the crackly sand pebbles of sound that burp and chirp their way through so much electronic music today. That’s not to say that the work is too elitist to appreciate far from it. Although the sounds on this release are nowhere near as engrossing as those on Shuttle358’s Frame or Mokira’s Clickhop, there is a subtlety on this work, a graceful blend of fluttering ambience and burbling static.
Of Varied‘s eight tracks, one stands above all the rest: “Varied_06.48,” an amazing work and one of the most memorable songs in the 12k catalogue. The random clinks of what sound like window chimes float above and around vague hints of snaps, thumps, hisses, and bleeps. This is an ambient paradise that reminds me of an electrified Zen landscape of sound, only occasionally interrupted by showers of noise. It is, without question, a beautiful composition sparse yet soothing, erratic yet coherent, reserved yet unique. The other tracks, while nowhere near as beautiful as “Varied_06.48,” are replete with interesting and memorable moments. Some borrow elements of “6.48” but use these toward different (less interesting) ends. Some focus more on stretching and twisting particular noises until there’s little actual “noise” left. And some are simply interested in fiddling with sounds. “Varied_09.07” falls into the latter category. It has a minimal rhythm structure that sounds like a more melodious version of a telegraph. It’s a long song (as the “9.07” suggests), but it holds the listener’s attention (well, my attention) fairly well because the rhythm bends and weaves around a series of almost imperceptible low-frequency toms that shift and dart around your ears. It’s an interesting song because it seems so simple, so repetitive, and yet it is anything but simple and repetitive. It is, in short, a maze that you must follow to the end to fully appreciate. This is, without question, a subtle work, and a work that demands a great deal out of the listener. If you are willing to meet this work half-way- that is, if you are willing to sit and listen to each song, to follow the maze of sounds to their end-then you will be rewarded, as I was, with a great experience. If not, then you’ll be bored.
—Haunted Ink, US