Strolling round Warsaw has an uncanniness distinctive amongst Ecu towns. Its very structure creates a type of phantasm; after the town’s outdated the city burned to the bottom in International Warfare II, its electorate got here in combination to reconstruct lots of its ancient websites, even reusing rubble from structures that were misplaced. Artwork through the Italian panorama artist Bernardo Bellotto have been used as a reference level, his use of digicam obscura providing extremely detailed depictions of buildings that were lowered to ash. However this similar approach led to slight inaccuracies, inflicting dissonance for individuals who consider the town because it in reality stood prior to the conflict. Seeing those centuries-old structures constituted of reminiscence in individual, one encounters a bizarre sensation: Is that this actually the way it felt to face subsequent to, say, the town’s Royal Fort when its paint was once nonetheless contemporary? Or is that this nearer to a reimagining of that feeling?
Staś Czekalski’s debut likewise sees Warsaw thru a surreally half-simulated lens. Recorded upon shifting to the town from Poznań, the album paperwork the Polish composer’s explorations of Warsaw, uncovering new wonders round each nook. Czekalski’s song has a lullaby lilt—his marimbas playfully bob up and down like tadpoles, whilst dinky MIDI guitars strum as though plucked from a daydream. Czekalski colours his song with a an identical restrained contact as Mondoj labelmates Piotr Kurek and G.S. Sultan, calling to thoughts the meditative grooves of Andras Fox crossed with Kate NV’s silly-brained workouts. Gently carving sparse shapes from silence, Czekalski we could each and every sound soar off the others like floating items in an outdated desktop screensaver.
Przygody interprets to “Adventures” in Polish, and Czekalski imbues his song with this wide-eyed sense of looking out, fixating over each small sound like a kid turning over pebbles. On “Pogoda ducha,” he jams out on a easy pizzicato motif, layering one click-clocking woodblock after any other over its delightfully cartoonish echo. Czekalski relishes within the clean surfaces of his MIDI tools, whether or not it’s the nylon spa guitars that drift thru “Koniec lata,” or the Casio-like keys of “Dim Front room,” which putter alongside over novice drum machines instantly from the GameCube technology of Animal Crossing. The additional the album is going alongside, the higher the empty house turns into: the pan pipes of “Mini Farmer” and “Muzeum Ewolucji” appear to name out into silence, their unnaturally breathy tone taking over an absurd psychedelic tinge.
