artist: ARSENIJE JOVANOVIĆ
title: Galiola - Works For Radio, 1967- 2000
catalog number: and/all2
release year: 2008
format: CD
status: back in stock for a limited time
title: Galiola - Works For Radio, 1967- 2000
catalog number: and/all2
release year: 2008
format: CD
status: back in stock for a limited time
FO A RM Projects, in collaboration with and/OAR and Alluvial Recordings, is pleased
to present this 80 minute collection of sound works, newly remastered and
accompanied by extensive notes by the composer.
Over the last 40 years, Serbian radio-art composer and film director Arsenije
Jovanović has developed a deeply personal style of sound art for radio broadcast. His
compositions are imbued with natural environments and human-centered activities.
They feel rooted in place - whether real, imaginary, remembered or dreamed.
Weaving voices, instruments, field recordings and manipulated sound, Jovanović
creates vivid narratives without a story. He takes full advantage of sound’s capability for
seamless morphing and far-flung association.
1. Prayer For One Galiola (1967)
2. Tombstones Along The Roadside (1967)
3. Prophecy Of The Village Kremna* (1990)
4. Les Vents Du Camargue (2000)
*Portions of this piece were used in "The Thin Red Line",
a film directed by Terrence Malick.
Comes packaged in a digipak with 12 page booklet.
Read more at the a/O blog.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BIO:
- Theatre, radio and television director, born in Belgrade, Serbia 1932.
- Writer and audio-art author, university professor - he taught acting at the Faculty of
Dramatic Arts in Belgrade until the start of the war in ex-Yugoslavia.
- Fulbright scholar and visiting professor at State University of New York at Albany.
- For eleven years, he was theatre director in The National Theatre in Belgrade, later
artistic director of The Bitef Theatre (Theatre in the Church), directing plays for
theatres both in former-Yugoslavia and abroad (Sheffield in England, Sofia in
Bulgaria, Albany in USA).
- Author of different sound installations - was in Berlin as a part of SFB participation at
Sonambiente event.
- Initiator of a sound workshop at Kunstradio (ÖRF, Wien).
- Initiator of a sound workshop at Media Arts Center at the University of Sydney 1999,
participating sound workshops in Finland (Oulu and Helsinki), and Denmark (Faeroe
Islands).
- Founder of the Adriatic Sound Factory, a moving sound laboratory settled for the
time being in Rovinj in Istria, Croatia.
AWARDS:
Apart from awards in his home country (formerly Yugoslavia, now Serbia), Arsa
Jovanovic received the following:
- Prix Italia in the category of stereo work for "Tombstones Along The Roadside"
(Venice, 1971)
- Prix Italia For "Resava Cave" (Venice, 1977)
- Premio Ondas for "Resava cave" (Barcelona, Spain, 1978)
- Premio Ondas for "Along The Long Long Street" together with Ms. Neda Depolo
(Barcelona, SPAIN)
- WDR Acustica International for "Faunophonia Balcanica" (Cologne, 1990.)
- Finalist award for "Homo Politikus Vulgaris" with P. Siren and A. Walligorska at New
York Radio Art Festival (New York, 1992.)
- First prize for "Concerto Grosso Balcanico", International Radio Festival in Rust
(Austria)
- Grand prix Radio France International with Ilinka Colic for "La parata" (Palmares,
France, 1997)
to present this 80 minute collection of sound works, newly remastered and
accompanied by extensive notes by the composer.
Over the last 40 years, Serbian radio-art composer and film director Arsenije
Jovanović has developed a deeply personal style of sound art for radio broadcast. His
compositions are imbued with natural environments and human-centered activities.
They feel rooted in place - whether real, imaginary, remembered or dreamed.
Weaving voices, instruments, field recordings and manipulated sound, Jovanović
creates vivid narratives without a story. He takes full advantage of sound’s capability for
seamless morphing and far-flung association.
1. Prayer For One Galiola (1967)
2. Tombstones Along The Roadside (1967)
3. Prophecy Of The Village Kremna* (1990)
4. Les Vents Du Camargue (2000)
*Portions of this piece were used in "The Thin Red Line",
a film directed by Terrence Malick.
Comes packaged in a digipak with 12 page booklet.
Read more at the a/O blog.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BIO:
- Theatre, radio and television director, born in Belgrade, Serbia 1932.
- Writer and audio-art author, university professor - he taught acting at the Faculty of
Dramatic Arts in Belgrade until the start of the war in ex-Yugoslavia.
- Fulbright scholar and visiting professor at State University of New York at Albany.
- For eleven years, he was theatre director in The National Theatre in Belgrade, later
artistic director of The Bitef Theatre (Theatre in the Church), directing plays for
theatres both in former-Yugoslavia and abroad (Sheffield in England, Sofia in
Bulgaria, Albany in USA).
- Author of different sound installations - was in Berlin as a part of SFB participation at
Sonambiente event.
- Initiator of a sound workshop at Kunstradio (ÖRF, Wien).
- Initiator of a sound workshop at Media Arts Center at the University of Sydney 1999,
participating sound workshops in Finland (Oulu and Helsinki), and Denmark (Faeroe
Islands).
- Founder of the Adriatic Sound Factory, a moving sound laboratory settled for the
time being in Rovinj in Istria, Croatia.
AWARDS:
Apart from awards in his home country (formerly Yugoslavia, now Serbia), Arsa
Jovanovic received the following:
- Prix Italia in the category of stereo work for "Tombstones Along The Roadside"
(Venice, 1971)
- Prix Italia For "Resava Cave" (Venice, 1977)
- Premio Ondas for "Resava cave" (Barcelona, Spain, 1978)
- Premio Ondas for "Along The Long Long Street" together with Ms. Neda Depolo
(Barcelona, SPAIN)
- WDR Acustica International for "Faunophonia Balcanica" (Cologne, 1990.)
- Finalist award for "Homo Politikus Vulgaris" with P. Siren and A. Walligorska at New
York Radio Art Festival (New York, 1992.)
- First prize for "Concerto Grosso Balcanico", International Radio Festival in Rust
(Austria)
- Grand prix Radio France International with Ilinka Colic for "La parata" (Palmares,
France, 1997)
REVIEWS
THE STRANGER VOL. 17 #34 (MAY, 2008)
Fans of cinematic electronic music should investigate Arsenije
Jovanovic's Works For Radio 1967-2000, released by and/OAR, one of
the leading labels for field recordings and experimental electronics. A
cult composer and theater director - his "Island Of The Dying Donkeys" is
a classic - Jovanovic blends everyday sounds into abstract yet compelling
soundscapes, the aural equivalent of filmmaker Michelangelo Antonioni
("Blow Up" and "Red Desert"). (Christopher Delaurenti)
Fans of cinematic electronic music should investigate Arsenije
Jovanovic's Works For Radio 1967-2000, released by and/OAR, one of
the leading labels for field recordings and experimental electronics. A
cult composer and theater director - his "Island Of The Dying Donkeys" is
a classic - Jovanovic blends everyday sounds into abstract yet compelling
soundscapes, the aural equivalent of filmmaker Michelangelo Antonioni
("Blow Up" and "Red Desert"). (Christopher Delaurenti)
VITAL WEEKLY #631 (JUNE, 2008)
The name Arsenije Jovanovic I heard before and perhaps even his music
- vaguely I remember a CD for La Legende Des Voix - but somehow,
somewhere it didn't really stick in my mind. He creates music, film and
writes books. I have no idea which is his most well-known side, but the four
pieces on this CD might serve as an introduction to his work with music,
through pieces composed for radio. That previous La Legende Des Voix
CD is no longer available, so this may bring new interest to his work, like
me, I guess. Two old works from 1967, one from 1990 and one from 2000.
There is of course a slight problem with this, which is that the texts are
sung or spoken in Serbian or Croatian (is there a difference?), which
makes it hard to follow what it is about, and that seems to be a bit of a
problem with pieces of music in which texts are important. I thought that
'Tombstones Along The Roadside' sounded like a religious work, with the
chanting of monks, but then I read in the booklet that its about the
tombstones of soldiers who died in the Balkan wars in the 19th century
(this is a 1967 piece). However listening to this I'd say it's hardly a
problem, since sound-wise this is all great stuff. Jovanovic creates very
imaginative pieces of sound - that transports the listener to another world -
using field recordings and lots of voices in the older pieces. The later
pieces are instrumental and have still a great power. Here the mind
wanders out further and can freely make associations with the music on
offer. Like I said, I heard of this composer before, but never could pin him
down to something - now I can think and I think its great.
(Frans De Waard)
The name Arsenije Jovanovic I heard before and perhaps even his music
- vaguely I remember a CD for La Legende Des Voix - but somehow,
somewhere it didn't really stick in my mind. He creates music, film and
writes books. I have no idea which is his most well-known side, but the four
pieces on this CD might serve as an introduction to his work with music,
through pieces composed for radio. That previous La Legende Des Voix
CD is no longer available, so this may bring new interest to his work, like
me, I guess. Two old works from 1967, one from 1990 and one from 2000.
There is of course a slight problem with this, which is that the texts are
sung or spoken in Serbian or Croatian (is there a difference?), which
makes it hard to follow what it is about, and that seems to be a bit of a
problem with pieces of music in which texts are important. I thought that
'Tombstones Along The Roadside' sounded like a religious work, with the
chanting of monks, but then I read in the booklet that its about the
tombstones of soldiers who died in the Balkan wars in the 19th century
(this is a 1967 piece). However listening to this I'd say it's hardly a
problem, since sound-wise this is all great stuff. Jovanovic creates very
imaginative pieces of sound - that transports the listener to another world -
using field recordings and lots of voices in the older pieces. The later
pieces are instrumental and have still a great power. Here the mind
wanders out further and can freely make associations with the music on
offer. Like I said, I heard of this composer before, but never could pin him
down to something - now I can think and I think its great.
(Frans De Waard)
MONK MINK PINK PUNK #15 (JULY, 2008)
Serbian sound artist Jovanovic has been producing radio plays — known
in Germany as Hörspiel — since the 1960s. Dozens of these pieces have
been only heard by the public once, when they were aired. Seth Nehil, a
friend and sound artist formerly of Austin now based in Portland,
interviewed Jovanovic for the FO A RM publication in 2006. More
importantly, he rescued 4 of Jovanovic’s treasures onto CD, which sit
nicely beside the CD of Jovanovic’s works released by Eric La Casa in the
mid-1990s. I think Seth and I both were captivated when Eric sent N D a
copy of this release. The idea of a radio play is virtually unknown in
America, where radio works are either the audio portion of theatre (Prairie
Home Companion) or boring journalistic stories with sound effects (the
banal reporting of National Public Radio). In Europe, the radio play
combines all forms of sound, music, sound effects, interviews, acting and
electronics into a slippery and artistic maze of meaning and personal
reflection.
1967’s “Prayer for One Galiola” collages electronic and environmental
sounds, acoustic instruments (cello, harp) and laughing and spoken
voices. Each of the sounds seems to answer the preceding sound in a
dreamlike cinematic way. I can imagine this being the soundtrack to a
Fellini film, due in part to the many repetitions of the name Galiola (the
name of one of Jovanovic's boats), which sounds Italian to me. The at
turns monkish and ominous male chorus, to my ears sounding like a
meeting of a secret Catholic society, adds to the Italian feeling. Also from
1967, “Tombstones Along the Roadside” presents a meditation on the
deaths of the Balkan soldiers who died throughout the first half of the 20th
Century and never received proper burials. Somber voice read from their
tombstones (over empty graves) and create voices of the dead from
beyond the grave over subtle electronic drones. None of the text is in
English, so much of the meaning behind the piece is lost to me: the liner
notes by Jovanovic help. The other two pieces were made later and
largely eschew text for atmosphere. 1990’s eerie “Prophecy of the Village
Kremna” was used in Malik’s film The Thin Red Line. Here drones, rattles
and wind noises merge into a slow moving mass, like a curtain separating
us from something awful. “Les Vents Du Camargue” from 2000 feels like a
remix of the previous piece, with similar elements mixed more
dynamically, mixed with bird and children noises recorded from a 12th
century church.
Jovanovic’s slow-paced works are necessary listening, I think. With this CD
and releases on Kunstradio and La Casa’s La Legende des Voix labels,
we have just just scratched the surface of this radio master’s varied works. I
used some of the promotional materials sent to us by La Casa in Monk
Mink Pink Punk #6, which is now posted online. (Josh Ronsen)
Serbian sound artist Jovanovic has been producing radio plays — known
in Germany as Hörspiel — since the 1960s. Dozens of these pieces have
been only heard by the public once, when they were aired. Seth Nehil, a
friend and sound artist formerly of Austin now based in Portland,
interviewed Jovanovic for the FO A RM publication in 2006. More
importantly, he rescued 4 of Jovanovic’s treasures onto CD, which sit
nicely beside the CD of Jovanovic’s works released by Eric La Casa in the
mid-1990s. I think Seth and I both were captivated when Eric sent N D a
copy of this release. The idea of a radio play is virtually unknown in
America, where radio works are either the audio portion of theatre (Prairie
Home Companion) or boring journalistic stories with sound effects (the
banal reporting of National Public Radio). In Europe, the radio play
combines all forms of sound, music, sound effects, interviews, acting and
electronics into a slippery and artistic maze of meaning and personal
reflection.
1967’s “Prayer for One Galiola” collages electronic and environmental
sounds, acoustic instruments (cello, harp) and laughing and spoken
voices. Each of the sounds seems to answer the preceding sound in a
dreamlike cinematic way. I can imagine this being the soundtrack to a
Fellini film, due in part to the many repetitions of the name Galiola (the
name of one of Jovanovic's boats), which sounds Italian to me. The at
turns monkish and ominous male chorus, to my ears sounding like a
meeting of a secret Catholic society, adds to the Italian feeling. Also from
1967, “Tombstones Along the Roadside” presents a meditation on the
deaths of the Balkan soldiers who died throughout the first half of the 20th
Century and never received proper burials. Somber voice read from their
tombstones (over empty graves) and create voices of the dead from
beyond the grave over subtle electronic drones. None of the text is in
English, so much of the meaning behind the piece is lost to me: the liner
notes by Jovanovic help. The other two pieces were made later and
largely eschew text for atmosphere. 1990’s eerie “Prophecy of the Village
Kremna” was used in Malik’s film The Thin Red Line. Here drones, rattles
and wind noises merge into a slow moving mass, like a curtain separating
us from something awful. “Les Vents Du Camargue” from 2000 feels like a
remix of the previous piece, with similar elements mixed more
dynamically, mixed with bird and children noises recorded from a 12th
century church.
Jovanovic’s slow-paced works are necessary listening, I think. With this CD
and releases on Kunstradio and La Casa’s La Legende des Voix labels,
we have just just scratched the surface of this radio master’s varied works. I
used some of the promotional materials sent to us by La Casa in Monk
Mink Pink Punk #6, which is now posted online. (Josh Ronsen)
GAZ- ETA #69 (OCTOBER, 2008)
From what I understand, "Galiola" is the first time Serbian theatre, radio
and TV director Arsenije Jovanovic has been made available to the
public at large. Four pieces presented here [two from 1967, one from
1990 and one from 2000] each range in their diverse approach to the
subject at hand. "Prayer for One Galiola" [1967] is a radio work the
composer dreamt up while he was hospitalized following a serious car
crash. Recorded in mono, the piece is full of dialogue that mixes in with
effects of water crashing all around. Sense of being lost and desperation
is evident throughout. Composed the same year, "Tombstones Along the
Roadside" is taken from a theatre production put on in a small, provincial
theatre. Many of the texts are taken from tombstones of soldiers killed in
battlefields, while others were borrowed from popular children's games
and songs. Barren in its appearance, the piece is a call out for reflection
and points the way to the holocaust that occurred in Serbia two decades
later. 1990's "Prophecy of the Village Kremna" was used by Terrance
Malik in the soundtrack to his film "The Thin Red Line". Based on an old
prophecy that foretells future catastrophes, the piece is overtly ominous,
dappled in nothing but the blackest shades of black. Its eerie sounds prop
the listener to pay close attention to the illusive gathering of sounds that
unpredictably appear out of nowhere. Final piece on the album is "Les
Vents du Camargue". Composed in 2000, this is a chapter of the
Jovanovic's acoustic diary. Recorded in Arles at the church of St.
Trophime, the sounds contained within the piece feature hollering winds,
cricket sounds, rattling of metal cans and muffled voices. Rich
experience has led each piece to stand completely well on its own
accord. Kudos to Seth Nehil for the fine work on excavating these
long-forgotten works. I'm salivating at the mere thought, knowing there's
more in the vaults. Perhaps someone will dig up further treasures soon?
(Tom Sekowski)
From what I understand, "Galiola" is the first time Serbian theatre, radio
and TV director Arsenije Jovanovic has been made available to the
public at large. Four pieces presented here [two from 1967, one from
1990 and one from 2000] each range in their diverse approach to the
subject at hand. "Prayer for One Galiola" [1967] is a radio work the
composer dreamt up while he was hospitalized following a serious car
crash. Recorded in mono, the piece is full of dialogue that mixes in with
effects of water crashing all around. Sense of being lost and desperation
is evident throughout. Composed the same year, "Tombstones Along the
Roadside" is taken from a theatre production put on in a small, provincial
theatre. Many of the texts are taken from tombstones of soldiers killed in
battlefields, while others were borrowed from popular children's games
and songs. Barren in its appearance, the piece is a call out for reflection
and points the way to the holocaust that occurred in Serbia two decades
later. 1990's "Prophecy of the Village Kremna" was used by Terrance
Malik in the soundtrack to his film "The Thin Red Line". Based on an old
prophecy that foretells future catastrophes, the piece is overtly ominous,
dappled in nothing but the blackest shades of black. Its eerie sounds prop
the listener to pay close attention to the illusive gathering of sounds that
unpredictably appear out of nowhere. Final piece on the album is "Les
Vents du Camargue". Composed in 2000, this is a chapter of the
Jovanovic's acoustic diary. Recorded in Arles at the church of St.
Trophime, the sounds contained within the piece feature hollering winds,
cricket sounds, rattling of metal cans and muffled voices. Rich
experience has led each piece to stand completely well on its own
accord. Kudos to Seth Nehil for the fine work on excavating these
long-forgotten works. I'm salivating at the mere thought, knowing there's
more in the vaults. Perhaps someone will dig up further treasures soon?
(Tom Sekowski)
BRAIN DEAD ETERNITY (NOVEMBER, 2008)
Criminally under-recorded, the music of composer and director Arsenije
Jovanović possesses the kind of remarkable qualities that, love it or hate
it, are going to finger the nerves of those who listen conscientiously. The
nearest thing to a blurred concept of “notoriety” for this artist derives from
the involvement in the soundtrack to Terrence Malick’s movie “The Thin
Red Line”, which in fact features Jovanović’s “Prophecy of the Village
Kremna”. That’s the longest and most suggestive vision in this four-
episode compilation, based as it is on an ancient Serbian prediction, a
numinous foretelling about “catastrophic events and apocalyptic
occurrences which will fall upon the homeland and its people”. A
sequence of haunting female voices, lingering nocturnal appearances,
distant moans, sighs and mumbles, humming low frequencies chipping
away at the tranquillity of a candid latecomer, likely to have
impressionable audiences sleeping rather uncomfortably should this track
be played at late evening.
Strikingly emotional as well is 1967’s “Tombstones Along The Roadside”,
described as a “national Danse Macabre” by the originator; initially
conceived as a theatrical stage act, the composition honours the
innocent victims of the Balkan wars from the end of 19th century to WWII,
portions of the texts taken from the gravestones of deceased soldiers and
subsequently transformed in monologues and hypothetical dialogues
between the sufferers and their tormentors. The remaining tracks are, to
some extent, not as much of evil-boding - but extraordinary nonetheless.
“Prayer For One Galiola” was born from an unpleasant incident as, many
years back, Jovanović found himself lost at sea in the dead of night, his
boat’s engine not working (he landed on a small island named Galiola
after hours of wandering in the waters), and also from an assortment of
hallucinations following a car accident that, somehow, were all
associated with this name. “Les Vents du Camargue” is the most concrete-
sounding affair, the main source being the Mistral that made impossible
an external recording at first and took the leading role afterwards, either
through its forceful blowing or via the psychological mechanisms that
were set in motion by the wind’s influence, the whole taped at the
Cathedral of St. Trophime in Arles. Still, this depiction doesn’t even
acquaint with a tiny bit of what this great piece sounds like.
Jovanović’s particulars are uniquely vivid, having the large part of this
music been written for radio broadcasts (and, in general, rarely
performed). The dramatic aspects are definitely predominant, often
disturbing; there’s a sort of bloodcurdling magnificence emerging in
several fractions of these sonic constructions which is both illogical and
inescapable, analogously to the attraction for the gruesome details of a
scene of death that many people experience. Here’s to hoping that more
of this body of work is unearthed, especially if the standards of
inventiveness are confirmed at this level of impressive consistency.
(Massimo Ricci)
Criminally under-recorded, the music of composer and director Arsenije
Jovanović possesses the kind of remarkable qualities that, love it or hate
it, are going to finger the nerves of those who listen conscientiously. The
nearest thing to a blurred concept of “notoriety” for this artist derives from
the involvement in the soundtrack to Terrence Malick’s movie “The Thin
Red Line”, which in fact features Jovanović’s “Prophecy of the Village
Kremna”. That’s the longest and most suggestive vision in this four-
episode compilation, based as it is on an ancient Serbian prediction, a
numinous foretelling about “catastrophic events and apocalyptic
occurrences which will fall upon the homeland and its people”. A
sequence of haunting female voices, lingering nocturnal appearances,
distant moans, sighs and mumbles, humming low frequencies chipping
away at the tranquillity of a candid latecomer, likely to have
impressionable audiences sleeping rather uncomfortably should this track
be played at late evening.
Strikingly emotional as well is 1967’s “Tombstones Along The Roadside”,
described as a “national Danse Macabre” by the originator; initially
conceived as a theatrical stage act, the composition honours the
innocent victims of the Balkan wars from the end of 19th century to WWII,
portions of the texts taken from the gravestones of deceased soldiers and
subsequently transformed in monologues and hypothetical dialogues
between the sufferers and their tormentors. The remaining tracks are, to
some extent, not as much of evil-boding - but extraordinary nonetheless.
“Prayer For One Galiola” was born from an unpleasant incident as, many
years back, Jovanović found himself lost at sea in the dead of night, his
boat’s engine not working (he landed on a small island named Galiola
after hours of wandering in the waters), and also from an assortment of
hallucinations following a car accident that, somehow, were all
associated with this name. “Les Vents du Camargue” is the most concrete-
sounding affair, the main source being the Mistral that made impossible
an external recording at first and took the leading role afterwards, either
through its forceful blowing or via the psychological mechanisms that
were set in motion by the wind’s influence, the whole taped at the
Cathedral of St. Trophime in Arles. Still, this depiction doesn’t even
acquaint with a tiny bit of what this great piece sounds like.
Jovanović’s particulars are uniquely vivid, having the large part of this
music been written for radio broadcasts (and, in general, rarely
performed). The dramatic aspects are definitely predominant, often
disturbing; there’s a sort of bloodcurdling magnificence emerging in
several fractions of these sonic constructions which is both illogical and
inescapable, analogously to the attraction for the gruesome details of a
scene of death that many people experience. Here’s to hoping that more
of this body of work is unearthed, especially if the standards of
inventiveness are confirmed at this level of impressive consistency.
(Massimo Ricci)
THE WIRE (JANUARY, 2009)
Pulling together four pieces from 1967-2000 by Serbian radio composer
Arsenije Jovanovic, Galiola is a brilliant but frustrating collection. The
two earliest works here, "Prayer For One Galiola" and "Tombstones Along
The Roadside", both produced for state broadcaster Radio Belgrade in
1967, are richly dense, emotive works, collaging imposing liturgical
incantations, orchestral fragments and clattering everyday sound effects.
Unfortunately, the texts, which are clearly integral to these radio pieces
are completely untranslated. This would be an oversight with an opera,
but here, where much is simply spoken word, it is maddening. The liner
notes are reasonably helpful on subject matter, explaining the works in
Jovanovic's own words - "Prayer For One Galiola" is apparently inspired
by a fantasy of an island in the Adriatic, while "Tombstones" is a
"national Danse Macabre" in memory of Balkan wars - but the information
just makes the linguistic impenetrability all the more frustrating.
Mercifully, this isn't a problem with the second half of the CD. "Prophecy
Of The Village Kremna", broadcast by Radio Belgrade in 1990,
abandons text altogether in favour of a swelling, 26 minute miasma of
drones and atmospheres. It's a tremendous, elemental piece, and the CD
is worthwhile for it alone; it was later used by Terrance Malick for The
Thin Red Line, although it stands perfectly well in isolation. The final
"Les Vents Du Camargue" (2000) sounds like variations on a similar
theme, without quite the same unnerving power but with its own more
allusive qualities. In all, Galiola is a fascinating record, but an on-hand
translator would be useful. (Owen Hatherley)
Pulling together four pieces from 1967-2000 by Serbian radio composer
Arsenije Jovanovic, Galiola is a brilliant but frustrating collection. The
two earliest works here, "Prayer For One Galiola" and "Tombstones Along
The Roadside", both produced for state broadcaster Radio Belgrade in
1967, are richly dense, emotive works, collaging imposing liturgical
incantations, orchestral fragments and clattering everyday sound effects.
Unfortunately, the texts, which are clearly integral to these radio pieces
are completely untranslated. This would be an oversight with an opera,
but here, where much is simply spoken word, it is maddening. The liner
notes are reasonably helpful on subject matter, explaining the works in
Jovanovic's own words - "Prayer For One Galiola" is apparently inspired
by a fantasy of an island in the Adriatic, while "Tombstones" is a
"national Danse Macabre" in memory of Balkan wars - but the information
just makes the linguistic impenetrability all the more frustrating.
Mercifully, this isn't a problem with the second half of the CD. "Prophecy
Of The Village Kremna", broadcast by Radio Belgrade in 1990,
abandons text altogether in favour of a swelling, 26 minute miasma of
drones and atmospheres. It's a tremendous, elemental piece, and the CD
is worthwhile for it alone; it was later used by Terrance Malick for The
Thin Red Line, although it stands perfectly well in isolation. The final
"Les Vents Du Camargue" (2000) sounds like variations on a similar
theme, without quite the same unnerving power but with its own more
allusive qualities. In all, Galiola is a fascinating record, but an on-hand
translator would be useful. (Owen Hatherley)
