There are times when the creative process is enriched by limitations. The challenge to produce meaningful work within the confines of this or that restriction can be inspiring; under certain circumstances, it can even define the work.
A fine example of this is Luca Forcucci's The Waste Land, in which the internationally recognized artist and researcher takes a six-minute field recording from a documentary film he's never seen and turns it into a 37-minute soundtrack. Forcucci's WordPress site attributes the project to his interest in "perception, subjectivity and consciousness," and lists the great avant-garde composer and musician Pauline Oliveros as a key inspiration.
Fans of her work will feel right at home in Forcucci's new soundscape. Beautifully recorded (and mastered by Taylor Deupree), these three pieces reflect a mature, refined artistic voice that's been recording since 2000.
The cassette's title track launches into a white noise/heavy industry combo right from the start, followed by a delicious electronic hum. There's no aggression here, though; the sounds are passive, sort of half-lazy. It's just another day at the office, even if you can't fathom what kind of hellish workplace this piece invites you to inhabit. "Voices from the Coal Mine" has a similar feel, as banging metal overpowers non-descript PA announcements, making for the album's harshest work. Counter-intuitively, "My Extra Personal Space" takes the listener outside, and treats us to church bells, birdsong and running water. It's a lovely contrast to the oppressiveness of the previous two tracks.
If there's a complaint to be lodged, it's that the work lacks an obvious musicality. But then, that's hardly the point. The Waste Land is a success, despite — or perhaps as a result of — how little the artist had to begin with. (Crónica)