Machtelinckx/Gouband/Leroux/Rasten - porous structures II (LP)

Belgian guitarist Ruben Machtelinckx lives in a world of sound. He interacts with his fellow musicians, deploying the most refined, delicate sort of interplay, as if collectively painting clouds for the ears. Diffuse harmonies, grainy textures, and rhythms that drift like fallen leaves offer a deeply meditative, gorgeously colored environment that the guitarist is helping to shape, but he’s also basking in the tones vibrating and shimmering around him. The music slows down time, forging an environment without boundaries that billows like smoke, constantly reshaping every fragile tone. It’s Machtelinckx’s sweet spot, but as much as he surrenders to the sonic ecosystem, he’s deftly aware of its subtle activity, rigorously participating in its real-time creation and development.

Back in 2019 he explained the motivation for his long-running, open-ended Porous Structures concept, saying, “We’re trying to achieve a state of being. It doesn’t have to go anywhere or have a direction.” At the time he was exploring the idea alongside reedist Joachim Badenhorst, fellow guitarist Bert Cools, and French percussionist Toma Gouband. Some of the music on the group’s 2019 Aspen Edities album was composed beforehand but even the fully improvised pieces featured Badenshort’s reeds and ghostly falsetto voice cutting through this dreamy sound world, nascent melodic strands that seemed to emanate from the collective resonance itself. Five years later Machtelinckx has remade the project, which continues to feature Gouband’s sui generis sonification of organic materials like stones and tree branches. The new quartet is rounded out with a pair of distinctive guitarists, long-time Belgian collaborator Frederik Leroux—Machtelinckx’s partner in the tender duo project Poor Isa—and the Berlin-based Norwegian Fredrik Rasten, a more recent creative partner with whom he also maintains a duo.

“What remains is the choice of acoustic and fragile sounds, comprehensible to the listener but with an undercurrent of tension and complexity,” says Machtelinckx. “What is new is the intertwining of acoustic guitars. The melodic voice is exchanged for yet another stringed instrument, resulting in a group sound in which individuals are barely distinguishable. The classical roles of an ensemble are abandoned: the three guitars weave a web in which the percussion moves freely. The quartet makes use of microtonality and plays a stubborn game of endless, subtle variations.” In some ways this assemblage furthers his earlier statement that the music doesn’t need to go anywhere, and indeed, on first blush the three pieces on this album appear to levitate. Still, when one digs deeper that claim isn’t entirely true. While the music doesn’t usually feature any traditional sense of propulsion, the performances definitely go somewhere.

Theoretically three acoustic guitars are indistinguishable from each other, but each musician has his own personality and style. The stacked guitars create a vertical sort of tension. Each player simultaneously adheres to a collective timbre, but within those limitations they can’t help but express a certain aesthetic essence. While I can’t identify who does what, there’s no missing the thrilling way individual aesthetics peek out in short, elegant flourishes; the humid harmonic churn giving way to poignant snatches of melody, only to dissipate as quickly as they formed. Machtelinckx’s decision to eschew a more conventional melodic voice gives Gouband greater freedom than with the previous line-up, which led to a change in the studio process. “I wanted all the details of the acoustic guitars, and at the same time I wanted Toma to be able to play full force,” Machtelinckx explains, so to preclude potential sound bleed and balance issues, the percussionist played in a separate room from the guitarists, with all of them listening to one another on headphones but without being able to see one other. Instead, the communication all came from listening. “The first Porous Structures album had some compositions of mine to steer the music in a specific direction. With this ensemble I did not feel the necessity to do this. We had a couple of conversations about different directions the music could go, and made some decisions before we started, but that's it.”

The sidelong opening piece “In my earliest memory I see trees'' is a marvel of deceptive stasis, where the music absolutely reflects “a state of being.” As the three guitars float on delicately intertwined arpeggios, single-note runs, and fleeting harmonic clusters, Gouband punctuates, prods, and caresses the action, sometimes inserting the sweet tintinnabulation of chiming cymbals, sometimes accentuating the drifty guitars with rustling friction, and sometimes pulling on the reins with a sudden stuttering tom-tom tattoo. The group does create something far more driving in “Falling forward becomes a walk,” which cleaves to the titular suggestion of gravity fomenting a kind of motion. Gouband is decidedly active and the guitarists toggle to three-way riff-oriented spontaneity—a kind of forceful walking in place. The quartet might not be moving from point to point, but it is sizing things up and pushing against edges. Tuning differences impart dizzying clouds of harmony on “Void of Narration,” the arrival of bowed guitar expanding the palette so that the slow motion entrance of Gouband on a quietly shimmering cymbal initially feels like a halo of the strings.

Astonishingly, this recording was the ensemble’s first ever performance together. “I feel that there can be something magical in a first meeting,” says Machtelinckx. “When you record a first meeting there is a sort of extreme focus and awareness of time, a gentle way of exploring each other and the music, a conscious doubt that I find very interesting.” It would be hard to disagree.

Peter Margasak

Berlin, March 2024