********* Michael Vernusky's intriguingly titled Blood That Sees the Light is an eclectic mix of tracks ranging from lush electronic soundscapes to sharply defined acoustic instrumental pieces. Binding them together is Vernusky's sonic palate, which tends towards haunting environments that slowly flex between rich consonances and crackling dissonances. Though a number of tracks create subtle timbral drifts which morph though various permutations, there are enough striking and well placed instances of abrupt onslaught that that one hesitates to relax too deeply into the swirl. Indeed the organization of the tracks on the disc as a whole seems to reflect an awareness and careful planning of this parameter. From the beginning of the opening track, which definitely falls into the lush dreamscape category but includes a beautifully handled moment of striking abruptness, we are put on alert that this is not music intended to flow graciously by. The darkly dramatic sensibility of the sound as a whole is immediately observable in the artwork that adorns the carefully designed packaging. The CD booklet exchanges the standard text based program notes for much more evocative collages of dark, semi-focused photographs accompanied by beautifully somber paintings of color-clouds. These photographs reveal the performer of the composition to which they are connected, which for the electronic pieces of course consists solely of machinery. I should probably mention that program notes do in fact exist for most of these pieces, as I discovered while exploring Vernusky’s website (www.alasseis.com). However, since the composer obviously made a conscious decision that these were not necessary for the listening experience, I decided not to read them before writing this review. Of the six tracks on the disc, I will focus on the four that include electronics, two of which are for tape alone and two for solo instrument and tape. The title track, Blood That Sees the Light, is perhaps the moodiest piece on the disc. One of the more arresting elements of this track involves the above-mentioned abrupt jolt, which occurs early on (after the first minute of nine), and is never repeated. This has an interesting effect on the listener – a certain tension of expectation is created which serves to increase the uneasiness of an already tense and restless piece. Indeed there are several moments where the music appears to build toward another such entrance, and its denial is very effective in enhancing the discomfort. Now kindly forget that you read this when you listen for yourself…. Overall, Blood… can be divided roughly into two sections, based on the quality of the sounds at play. The first part utilizes gradually shifting clusters, while the second part includes more concise gestures and adds elements of noise and metallic sounds. This creates a refreshing expansion of the palette approximately half way through the piece. The second track, Tanah, is for “flutes and electronic sounds”, according to the CD booklet. Placing these two pieces back to back provides a nice bridge, as Tanah begins in a similar vein as Blood…. The opening noise gestures are soon revealed as breath sounds of a flute as they begin to take on more pitch, creating a breath-sound chorale. The addition of the flute itself is deftly handled with multiphonics that easily blend into the existing sound world. The flute, once it has solidly emerged from the underlying texture, is well balanced throughout, and easily fades in and out of the foreground as it trades prominence with the electronics. When in front, it tends to lock onto and repeat short motives, an effect which further emphasizes its momentary detachment and allows it to drift back into the texture as it relinquishes its hold on the gesture. As the acoustic instrument fades away, the electronic sounds tend to become more agitated to fill the space created. The fourth track (after Arc, for solo piano), Means and Meditations, provides a distinct contrast from the previous material, especially Blood…. The piece is much more frenetic, relying on shorter gestures and sudden movement. For this piece, the CD booklet is uncharacteristically forthcoming, providing a wealth of textual information about the song: “an experiment in texture and momentum.” In all seriousness, this does give a fair description of the most interesting and salient developmental aspects of the piece, the form of which tracks these two parameters. The aforementioned frenetic material, which tends to be quite noisy, gradually gives way to ghostly echoing sounds with longer individual lifespans, though this process is by no means linear. By the end of the piece, we have returned to the original sound world, giving the piece a roughly ABA form. Aside from the surface interest of the textures themselves, it is the non-linearity of the transformations that provides the piece with its formal appeal. Selah, for guitar and electronics, again provides a sharp contrast with the previous track. The electronic part tends toward much purer, almost sinusoidal tones which swell and recede while the guitar moves freely about this harmonic tapestry. Vernusky, a guitarist himself, controls the instrument confidently and with fluency, though the part shies away from virtuosic display. Initially the two sources are independent entities, but they soon begin to influence one another’s behavior. As part of this process, the electronic sounds begin to take on more qualities of the guitar, reacting to it occasionally in imitation. The sounds throughout are for the most part quite delicate, both on the part of the electronics and the guitar. Overall, the textures tend to create a simple, clean surface – a characteristic that is often difficult to handle but is accomplished nicely in this case. It should also be noted that this disc is the first release from the relatively new Quiet Design Records label (http://www.quietdesign.us/), run by Vernusky himself. This has the makings of an interesting little label, with three releases on its roster thus far. Though Blood… certainly lies within the realm of “art”/concert music, Quiet Design does not appear interested in restricting itself to this genre, and I look forward to further releases. --P. Bloland, from the forthcoming SEAMUS Journal ********* When people think of Texas, they don't often think of experimental music, but Austin-based composer Michael Vernusky is quietly countering that perception, taking his unique music across North America, to Europe & Japan. Four years in the making, his debut LP showcases meticulously detailed performances of his emerging talent. Listeners new to his sound are likely to remark at how well he balances electronics and acoustic languages. The music takes you along an emotional journey through passages of meditation, despair and hope. The ethereal spaces, lushly dissonant harmonies, walls of noise, and the varied instrumentations demonstrate a musical language of a refined and impassioned taste. If only Ambiances Magnétiques was based in Dixie... Triage Music International ********* More info can be found at www.alasseis.com