Words by David C. Obenour
Often times music finds inspiration from the sounds of the world that surrounds us. For all the unjointed and overlapping players, we tend to create or find rhythms and melodies. On his second collaboration with guitarist (amidst other instruments), Enrico Terragnoli and bassist (amidst other instruments), Danilo Gallo, percussionist and composer Filippo Sala was drawn to the oscillating movement of the tides. A warm crest of jazz breaks into a refreshing flow of post rock, naturally bringing together the three players across Maree’s ten songs.
Off Shelf: I am curious to hear of artists you find inspiring. There are so many sounds that your music touches on, I have to imagine your music collection is fairly diverse.
Filippo Sala: I’ve always listened to a lot of music, and of very different genres.
I was born at the end of the 80s and grew up listening to bands and musicians who were searching for a possible path by experimenting with genre blending. Today it’s normal, but when I was younger it was definitely something new! Groups like Mr. Bungle, the early Mars Volta, Naked City, John Lurie and the Lounge Lizards, John Zorn, Marc Ribot, Fred Frith and many other lesser-known experiments stimulated my research and broadened my horizons. I loved Led Zeppelin – my first true love, Don Cherry, Naná Vasconcelos, Steve Reich, Jimi Hendrix, Radiohead, Ornette Coleman, Arvo Pärt, Igor Stravinskij, Ali Farka Touré, Damon Albarn, Talk Talk, Tortoise – to give a quick list of the best known, touching the most disparate genres. In general, I like music that surprises me and moves me!
As for the other players on this record, in Italy Enrico and Danilo have left an indelible mark on the history of alternative jazz music. They were members and founders of Gallo Rojo, a musical collective and independent record label devoted to borderless, exploratory music, which was fundamental to my musical growth.
Maree, like many of my other works, is indeed a record with a great many influences.
OS: This is your second album with Enrico and Danilo. How did Rifugi help define what you wanted to explore on Maree?
FS: Rifugi was born in a moment of strong expressive need; it’s a first record made much more “from the gut,” and we played many concerts with it that were fundamental because they allowed us to get to know each other better musically. That experience helped me understand which musical aspects to bring out and which writing strategies might be best suited for a second album. I learned that writing for such eclectic improvising musicians requires a considerable work of subtraction and a clear understanding of the musician you’re playing with.
Maree is therefore inspired by our way of playing, which is very dynamic and alternates masses of sound with rarefactions. To all intents and purposes it’s a second chapter, a continuation of Rifugi. I really like this, because it lets me explore different imaginary worlds with each record while keeping a coherent sound.
OS: What is the balance of composition to improvisation that came in forming the songs of Maree? What did that process look like?
FS: The evocative image of the tides was what allowed me to write and organize all the music in advance. We rehearsed it, played a few preview shows, and finally recorded it. The balance between the written and the improvised parts may seem rather fluid, and that’s exactly what I wanted to happen. The compositional architecture of the whole record however, is very organized. My goal was to look for a sonic flow, a common yet heterogeneous wave.
The music I write for the trio is made of clear, simple ideas, in which the rhythmic, melodic and timbral components are the pivot. The pieces are often to be understood as guides: once the right sound is found, the music comes to life.
OS: How do you think being a drummer affects your approach to composition? What are you more aware of or where do you otherwise find value or interest?
FS: I like to think of myself more as a musician than as an instrumentalist. The drums are the instrument I’ve played since I was a kid; composition came later, and it’s a path I’m very passionate about and want to explore ever more deeply. For this reason, I’m trying not to separate these two souls.
Unlike the other members of a band, the drummer has the advantage of observing the group from another perspective. This gives him a broader overall view, a trait that has much in common with the work of the composer. In my specific case, at the origin of the creative process, it comes naturally for me to work through images or sensations, which I then translate into notes mainly using the piano – an instrument that unfortunately, I don’t master as well as the drums.
When developing an idea, I sometimes like to use compositional strategies. Drawing on both classical and alternative techniques. In parallel, I think about the instruments to write for and – since this is music with a considerable improvisational component – about the qualities of the musicians who will perform it, in order to bring them to the exact point I’m interested in exploring.
Finally, I consider the time available and the circumstances, and I organize the work.
OS: I was unfamiliar with the podophono before this release. Can you talk a little about Enrico’s instrument and how it adds to your sound?
FS: The podophono is Enrico’s own invention and his exclusive instrument, so it’s only natural you couldn’t have known it! In reality, it’s nothing more than a small keyboard connected to his guitar’s effects chain, which allows him to play two instruments at the same time. Everything you hear on the album that reminds you of keyboards, noise, or certain loops is played live with that device. Enrico is a very ironic person: I think he calls it “podophono” simply because he has great respect for pianists. [laughs]
OS: The credits also have Danilo listed as playing “objects” — can you share some of those objects and what inspired you to explore and include them? Were there other objects tried that maybe didn’t perform as thought or desired?
FS: I believe there’s a small misunderstanding in the credits: the use of objects refers to the first record, Rifugi. There, Danilo did indeed play a series of toy percussion instruments: in the track Keef and in the introduction of Piscina d’inverno. It was his choice.
On Maree, instead, Danilo played a balalaika, the double bass, and a flute, in addition to the electric bass. He’s a musician with an impressive evocative ability, and he can be overwhelming on all of his instruments. Enrico, besides playing the banjo, also plays maracas on Crepuscolo: we create an interesting sonic interweaving by combining floor tom, woodblock and maracas over a simple 3/4 rhythm.
On the album’s last track, Mr. Winter, I overdubbed claves, woodblock, whistles and maracas. They work perfectly as a background in that track, which is inspired by the beautiful sequence in Wim Wenders’ film Lisbon Story. In the scene, the protagonist Philippe Winter – who in the film is a sound engineer and sound effects artist – entertains a group of children by challenging them to recognize the scene noises in a movie; a horse riding, a fire lighting up, a lion roaring, all that he artificially reproduces from behind a wall with his “instruments.”
OS: Now that the songs have been recorded and released, does that shape boundaries that maybe otherwise wouldn’t be there?
FS: It’s true, and in fact I should have played better! [laughs]
Joking aside, every record creates boundaries, just like every painting, every text or artistic form that gets immortalized forever. But it doesn’t worry me: we’re not forced to reproduce that music live exactly as we played it. On the contrary, we like to do the opposite: to shape it in our own way and play it as we feel it in that moment, while keeping its structure. In a sense, we try to find a different key every time.
The recording studio is a place I enjoy spending time in; there I can fix the ideas I’ve worked on for months, or possibly experiment with new ones. It too is a space where you can take an extremely creative approach, both in the performance phase and in post-production. Immortalizing this kind of music means fixing ideas that set a firm point in a given moment, the same way you take a photograph.
OS: On the other hand, now that you’ve had more of a chance to perform these songs live, how have they evolved since this recording?
FS: The pieces always evolve, and in different ways. We like being able to link several pieces together without interruption. To do so, we’ve added intros or outros that we had cut from the record for editorial reasons, or because they didn’t work in that context. People who come to our concerts say that, unlike the album, the live show is much more direct, powerful and communicative: it hits harder.
I think being able to offer the audience a more “orderly” listening experience on record, and live versions that are always different, can make sense. On stage we rarely bring out all the instruments used on the record, but the evocative contribution they gave to the pieces isn’t missing in the live shows.
My absolute favorite live version is the one we do of Le cose semplici, though I also love the improvised coda of Carillon.
OS: In the same way that an athlete is skilled but still finds joy through performance, I have to imagine that “play” is a very apt descriptor to how you all make music together. What parts of playing together do you find most enjoyable?
FS: Thank you, Dave, I take that as a lovely compliment. Yes, I think “playing” together comes quite naturally to us.
Playing live with Enrico and Danilo is a privilege: you never know what to expect; every time it’s a different concert. There’s always a high level of mutual listening and of risk. The pieces often get turned upside down, and I find that a splendid thing that keeps the music alive. Then there’s a generational exchange between us: we were born in the 60s, 70s and 80s respectively. This gives the music an extra push; it’s also why all these musical influences flow together. And then there’s mutual respect and esteem. The part I love most when I play live with them is precisely not knowing where I’m going, but being sure that, somehow, we’ll come out of it.
OS: In illustration and layout, both album covers feel related. Is there an aesthetic you want to convey in how your music is presented? How would you define that?
FS: The covers of both albums were made by Davide Lorenzon of Aut Records. For Maree I expressly asked for artwork very similar to Rifugi: I wanted to convey an idea of continuity from a visual point of view as well, a bit like they used to do in the old days. Recently, at an exhibition, I saw the 70s covers of Miles Davis’ albums and it was wonderful to observe the concept that tied them together. The same goes for Talk Talk, for example.
I need to lay out my ideas very clearly, partly because in recent years I’ve written and produced a lot of music for different groups. They are, of course, different projects. I see them as microcosms for exploring specific sound architectures, forms and orchestrations, moods and emotional scenarios, which nevertheless stem from a single musical vision. With Pulsar Ensemble, for example, I focus mainly on percussion; on my solo album, Tribù, I explored prepared drums and electronics; with Il Trieste we explore a whole dark minimal-progressive side. With Danilo and Enrico, we play freely on the boundaries. The trio definitely has its own sound and character, but I have no idea whether it can be called an aesthetic line. If so, I’d rather someone else be the one to say it…