Thoughts: Jürg Frey’s Weites Land, Tiefe Zeit: Räume 1-8, or, The Difficulties of Listening to Lowercase Music on a College Campus

In contrast to many traditional figures of classical music, Swiss composer Jürg Frey is not exactly known for loudness or grandiosity. And while many works by well-known composers aren’t exactly short, Frey’s pieces often dwarf them in scope – take, for example, last year’s archival release of L’âme est sans retenue I by Erstwhile Records; this composition stretches past the six hour mark. Weites Land, Tiefe Zeit: Räume 1-8 is shorter, but by no means brief. Originally created to accompany installations by the late artist Mauser from 2001 to 2002 (Olewnick), the album was released on 8xCD by b-boim in 2010. It consists of eight segments, each titled simply “Raum” plus the disc number, that were produced through heavily processed field recordings gathered by Frey himself. The processing results in the original sound sources becoming mostly unintelligible, instead blurring into ethereal, layered drones. If you haven’t heard the album, at this point it probably sounds like a pretty typical ambient construction. However, as is Frey’s tradition, the music is so quiet it is almost imperceptible at normal volume.

This use of low volume and occasionally complete silence to emphasize sound is a cornerstone of the philosophy of the Wandelweiser Group, of which Frey is a key member. The compositions created by Antoine Beuger, Radu Malfatti, Michael Pisaro, and others are often categorized as “lowercase,” a moniker that references their scaled down palette. Though I am no expert in many of these artists’ work, what I have heard has been both fascinating and gorgeous. However, the quiet and sparse nature of these recordings necessitates a very quiet listening environment, something not easily found on a bustling college campus. So Weites Land… has been, for lack of a better phrase, my “guinea pig album” for prospective listening environments, as I investigate various libraries and secluded areas around town to find the optimal space. And today I think I’ve found it; I was able to listen to “Raum 3” in the geology library’s almost complete silence, a favorable setting that allowed me to truly appreciate the subtle beauty that Frey has constructed. Music at such a quiet volume level requires a lot of focus, which causes a significantly increased perception of even the most minuscule dynamics and elements. In the future, if no one who works here objects to me spending hours upon hours at a time just sitting with headphones on, I’ll be able to experience a lot of cool stuff.