The work of Belarusian folktronica ensemble Shuma (Šuma) is defined with an intriguing turn of phrase: "digital archaica." A new collection of remixes helps to explain that bond of tradition and hi-tech.
Moscow's Brinstaar stands behind a new publishing venture, Kota Records. Over the course of several recent interviews, he establishes an elegant worldview with which to counter the mainstream.
A few weeks ago in May, the Siberian city of Omsk hosted a festival of street art entitled "Spaces of Multiplicity" A regional sound artist quickly planned a celebration of noise in a pedestrian underpass.
For Western observers, many locations across a Russian map - with unpronounceable names and windswept railway stations - can appear unimaginably distant. In one of those lonely places we find SV Hutor.
"When I compose, I simply turn off my brain and surrender to a flight of fancy. It's something elusive. It happens all of a sudden, spontaneously... it's what you might call 'improvisation of the heart and soul.'"
Many hundreds of miles from Moscow, an ailing industrial town is home to some introspective, barely audible instrumentals. They celebrate friendship and community in ways that dismiss distance.
2muchachos, based in the town of Cherepovets , turn the crackle and rustle of a tape-music aesthetic into the soundtrack for small-scale botanical bustle.
"As I was writing these Empty Patterns tracks, I imagined all kinds of empty buildings to myself. They included large and vacuous halls, in the center of which a gramophone was playing..."
New electronic recordings from a range of outlying Russian cities draw parallels between their location and local history. A sense of distance transpires, both from cultural centers and the passage of time.
Within a number of Slavic electronic recordings this week, desire is an enduring theme. Alternatives to dull actuality are sought in local forests, on distant shores, or within classic literature of the Nineteenth Century.