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Oleg Yaque (aka Viber Park)
Some new recordings have appeared from the Belarusian capital of Minsk, specifically through the netlabel Sgustok. First among them is a four-track deep house EP attributed to Viber Park and sporting the classic Sgustok artwork that we see below. This brand new stage-name actually masks the figure of Oleg Yaque, known to readers of FFM primarily through his recordings as Parametric.
Although Western observers might expect new, independent music-making from Belarus to be somehow tinged with sociopolitical concerns, Yaque has always used the resonant, wordless forms of deep house to conjure a different kind of social "immersion" - one that trumps anything stridently verbal.
Put differently - and as we noted before - he draws upon the "melancholy, dream-like and beautiful" aspects of a US house tradition that - in prior decades - would first mix looped samples from political speeches and then broadcast them to predominantly gay or Black audiences in underground clubs. This music, in other words, advocated an active, socially committed worldview that was rooted in forms of faith. Early deep house tracks were sometimes referred to as a "new" kind of gospel, since they drew both upon a soul heritage and the "preacherly" intonation of Black civic speakers.
Тhis same romantic search for a trusting realm led in the past to Yaque's description of his own output as "imbued with a kind of philosophical melancholy, being both dream-like and beautiful.”
Furthering that bittersweet worldview, the four compositions on Viber Park's "Omra" are seemingly named in honor of some vague, yet insistently mantric purpose. In other words, they're dedicated to minimalist forms of repetition in the material world - which are conducted in the simultaneous hope of spiritual transformation.
...sounds imbued with a kind of philosophical melancholy
Viber Park's meditative tracks come on the heels of a kindred DeepLimit release (from Dnepropetrovsk) and the work of a couple more Slavic artists, namely the Moscow duo Doyeq. The project's members are Sergei Kulikov and Vitalii Bragin (below), both of whom are also involved in parallel or side projects. Kulikov (b. 1985, below left) is a member of ambient outfit Tutty, whilst Bragin (right) spends much time working with the self-declared "psychedelic" ensemble known as “end_project.” Lower-case letters and little sounds.
Despite these blossoming offshoots, as Bragin's T-shirt shows, the duo retains a connection to Moscow's mainstream and/or modish dance culture, specifically though an enthusiasm for the Electronica Label. Glances and efforts are dispatched in various directions.
The quiet diligence we associate with Oleg Yaque is equally evident here. Such tight-lipped behavior, however, is arguably at odds with Kulikov's chosen career path, which - following high school - took him into the wordy realm of legal studies; likewise Bragin (b. 1983) has channeled his efforts into the field of sociology. Generally, though, both men stay mum, no matter how far we look; the modus operandi of ambient and/or minimal techno has been transferred to a minimal vocabulary, too.
Here's one example. If we look at Bragin's and Kulikov's PromoDJ page, the two members of Doyeq are asked to fill out their online profile with definitions of what they "Like, Hate, Recommend, Enjoy, Know... and Can Do." To all those prompts, they offer a one-word answer: "Music."
The (wordless!) instrumentals used to express Doyeq's commitment - as a second EP, entitled "Four" - are currently available on the DeepLimit website. What, though, might account for the widespread appeal of these gentle, repetitive tracks, either in Ukraine or Belarus? A look at the formation and raison d'etre of Sgustok offers a few answers.
This project has now grown into an aesthetically impressive magazine, dedicated to cultural issues in and around Minsk. Founded six years ago as a mere "experiment," Sgustok has now been taken to greater heights by its two (i.e., twin) founders, Denis and Dima Kovalev.
Dima and Denis Kovalev (Sgustok)
It's especially useful to consider an interview with the Kovalev brothers from 2009, just after FFM came into being. What, in other words, were the hopes and intentions of Sgustok when we first started documenting the musical landscape of Slavic and Baltic territories? From the outset, if one is speaking of Sgustok's musical aspect, the goal in Minsk was always twofold: to support the commercial potential of local club life and, simultaneously, provide readers with a supply of top-notch electronic downloads, free of charge.
A philosophical concern soon overshadowed any commercial goals, though: "Please don't be shy - send us your demo-material. We'll take a close listen to everything and consider each proposal that reaches us. Nonetheless, we do ask, please, that you first get to know our releases - and the concept behind them..."
Please get to know our releases first - and the concept behind them...
Even in those early days, the Kovalevs were pleasantly surprised by levels of international interest. They quickly received a wide range of musical submissions not only from Belarusian towns, but also from Germany, Argentina, and Japan. That broad appeal led to thoughts of business potential... with philosophical "concepts" somehow intact. The line between selling and selling out appeared clear.
From the outset it was evident that if Sgustok artists were ever to realize a commercial promise, it would have to be within pleasing formats! "If music's hard on the ears, then it's hard to sell, too. Various [local] labels that once began with an avant-garde sound have now shifted to the mainstream. We've heard that other music projects have completely closed down because they weren't willing to make that transition... They stuck firmly to their principles."
The Kovalev twins have tried to be more flexible.
The staff at Sgustok, shying away from any (deliberate, stubborn) distance between noise and niceness, aim instead "to make music for listening at home." Profit takes a back seat to comfort. Hence the explicit emphasis upon "deep- and tech-house, glitch, idm, abstract works, and ambient." That unobtrusive, domestic streak endures - in several senses. The Kovalevs have seen many friends and colleagues leave Minsk, in fact Belarus as a whole, and yet they remain close to the streets of their youth: "We'd like to do something for our country. We don't want to lose our roots. I reckon that if we left, we wouldn't be working in the cultural sphere any more."
More pressing - and less interesting - obligations would come to the forefront of attention. Such as earning a living. Whatever the label manages to sell, therefore, will fuel the local economy - and foster a precious soundtrack to restfulness.
We'd like to do something for our country. We don't want to lose our roots
Those magic, transformational sounds are very much in demand. The idea of calm compositions for an untroubled homestead often seems too good to be true - and, once again, we're avoiding any reference to politics or deliberate apoliticism, even. It's a simple matter of (rare) peace and quiet.
Several months ago, the Kovalevs were asked to attend an evening at which people could learn more about Sgustok - and how to launch a similar endeavor. Various individuals expressed their admiration online even before the function was on the calendar. "Well done, guys! I'm really glad that we have people like you here in Belarus. Thanks! I wish you creative success and all the best at work!"
The love was palpable.
Most of the responses, however, came from people who wanted to attend, but simply could not - due to a range of mundane, often material issues. Between the workday and precious repose lay a range of dilemmas - none of which are interesting, yet they remain almost impossible to avoid.
"I'd love to be there, but I'm held up at work"; "If only the ocean wasn't between us!" (said an emigree); "I want to take part, but I just can't make it"; "I'm stuck at home with a temperature!" Never mind politics: daily life does enough damage. Quotidian obstacles cause sufficient trouble - the kind of hassles that would endure whether one lived at home or overseas. And so both Sgustok and DeepLimit persist in their shared desire to cultivate a universal sensation of comfort, no matter one's address.
A place that's endlessly distant, yet peaceful and harmonious...
The folks at DeepLimit have set the bar especially high. They hope - sooner or later - that the tracks here from Doyeq will evoke (or maybe even effect!) "a journey through unknown stars. To a place that's endlessly distant, yet peaceful and harmonious..."
In the meanwhile, the hopeful mantras continue, all under the watchful eye of DeepLimit's mascot - a fish made from nuts and bolts. Surely nothing speaks more to a spiritual transformation than a metaphorical fish. From the center of Ukrainian industry - in several senses - the sounds of something better (and gentler) keep moving - underground.
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