Seasonal Diary I: Radical Tenderness

Radical Tenderness opens with Ned Milligan’s Two Woods, where the percussive backdrop of falling raindrops pound out smooth, lulling rhythms. These pearly-like passages seamlessly continue in Lieven Martens’ explorations, who examines the phenomenon of echolocation calls in Hidden Music. Made purely with bat sounds, he manipulates the frequencies to make what is not heard in everyday life audible. In Below Below by Perimeter O we stay with the repetitive pace of winter melancholy, resulting in a mix of longing and capitulation, yet gently leading us towards slowness and contemplation. The feeling is enhanced by High Heaven where Vazz spins a tale full of yearning, painting a rebellious vision of earth parched and dry under the pure blue sky, all of this with perversely icy precision and guitar chime reminiscent of invisible rain. In Tiny Lives, Liew Niyomkarn maneuvers everyday life by switching to survival mode, where in a mysterious ghostly whisper she finds her place of comfort. Maria Moles’ Starlings Gap, Morning Fog closes with heavy synths in counterpoint to delicate piano, bringing the two worlds together and leaving the listener with a lingering feeling, akin to a cold breeze kissing your cheeks on a frigid day.

The subtle textures, phasing harmonics, and vibrant soundscapes of these sonic acts embody a radical form of tender gesture that can embrace much more than what is at arm’s length.