Understatement: Feyorz, Treize, Thy Birds, ForeverLive, and Fantom Sea

The Uspensky Cathedral, Tula

Tula is a large city maybe 120 miles from Moscow and currently home to roughly half a million people. That fleeting sketch might suggest a modern, industrial setting, but the history of Tula also stretches back into the distant past, long before factories and power lines. It is often claimed that the region has been inhabited in meaningful ways since the fourteenth century, but social cohesion would only become evident once those scattered dwellings were placed within a fortress wall in 1530. 

Modernity in lasting forms came to Tula during the reign of Peter the Great, who decided to make the town a center for ironworking - specifically in order to accelerate the production of armaments. These connections of Tula with cannons, gunpowder, and loud noises would endure all the way to WWII, when German forces laid seize to the city, aware of its unique production facilities. A heroic defense would finally force the invaders back - and lead to decades of celebratory rhetoric from the Soviets. To this day, in fact, the streets of Tula are associated in the nation's mind with a proud, pugnacious heritage. It's easier to gain respect if you own a big gun.

That epic backdrop forms a striking counterpart to the new recordings from local producer Ilya Bodrov, creator of the Ritmo Sportivo beats/hip-hop label often celebrated on this site. Using his stage-name of Feyorz, Mr. Bodrov yesterday released a five-track, thirteen-minute EP with the title of "Afterhours Sessions, 01." That phrase explains to some degree the way in which these downtempo instrumentals were built. As opposed to the thunderous, often stately workings of Tula industry, Feyorz's output comes to us quickly, quietly, and on a whim.

Feyorz (Ilya Bodrov, Tula): "Afterhours Sessions 01" (2012)

The recordings were made approximately one day before their appearance online. The EP, in other words, intends to be the first in a series of publications reflecting swift, solo work conducted over the course of one night. The challenge is to see what eight hours of secluded, nocturnal effort can produce. "Industry" becomes a much smaller and more subjective process.

Given this emphasis upon brevity and lyricism, the tracks on "Afterhours Sessions" are all tagged with a specific time of day, as the clock ticks and sunrise approaches. Feyorz himself hopes that these maxi-singles will "show the process of inspiration in digital forms."  Or, in other words, the instrumentals are designed to document and then mirror the audible "transformation" of an idea, on this occasion between the hours of 00:10am and 06:50am on January 30, 2012. 

The process of inspiration in digital forms

The appeal of transformation and natural change - viewed from an apartment window (above) -  is just as evident in the new album from Dmitry Cholovsky (aka ForeverLive), who lives in the Ukrainian town of Nova Kakhovka. His penchant for acoustic, ambient instrumentals is often juxtaposed to a sense of frustrating distance from mainstream musical activity. As a result, the pastoral air of his catalog, rich in wistful solitude, is typically framed by a growing desire that it be noticed. A wide range of rhetorical styles therefore colors Mr. Cholovsky's social networking pages, all the way from introspection to frustration. Even stargazers like to be noticed from time to time.

ForeverLive (Nova Kakhovka, Ukraine): "Brightness of the Sky" (2012)

His brand-new album is now available from Kroogi, "Brightness of the Sky." That celestial imagery and escapist tone, however, is surrounded by various attempts at garnering interest. Reverie in the context of a performance art needs an audience, sooner or later. "Dear Friends," he recently said on Vkontakte. "I really need some of your feedback. Could you possibly write some sort of comment or send me a message? Something along the lines of: 'The music of ForeverLive is pretty good... even if nobody needs it. Yours, Yura (musician).' I need to know what job you do, please, so tell me whether you're a waiter, businessman, or the drummer of U2."

Could you possibly write some kind of comment or send me a message?

That self-deprecating tone helps to bridge the gap between hushed sounds and big dreams. Irony helps Cholovsky to downplay any unsightly or delusional grandeur and come to terms with career options - which are, to some degree, contingent upon one's address. According to a paradoxical - and positive - logic, one's willingness to shoulder a certain degree of modesty or self-mockery actually helps to magnify the object of one's musical attention. Instrumentals dedicated to the transformation of the Tula night or Ukrainian countryside are more engaging if offered by an unassuming soul.

A shrinking violet only makes the surrounding garden look bigger, so to speak. In actual fact, the debut release from ForeverLive was called "Insignificance." Listeners were offered the opportunity to "relax, fall asleep, or simply reflect" on the world around them. Those invitations to noiseless introspection are less persuasive when shouted.

Diamos Roll (Minsk)

And so we find some other instrumentals this week from Slavic musicians that are advertised not only by restrained or inward-looking figures, but also uploaded in virtual anonymity. We might turn, by way of example, to the Belarusian keyboard player Diamos Roll, shown above in Minsk and known primarily in his homeland for playing with the ensemble Cherry Vata.

Late last year, this same performer was discussed on FFM with regard to his mini-album, "Rosecode." Those solo efforts emerged not only from some lingering desire to fashion an independent mode of expression; Diamos Roll has also told the Belarusian press in recent months that touring as a one-man band should be considerably easier. It's certainly cheaper than wayfaring with an entire collective - and one is always open to last-minute, voluntary changes in the schedule. Solitude therefore has considerable benefits in a poor economic climate.

Attempts to express the sun, wind, sea (Diamos Roll)

And we shouldn't forget the evident romance that surrounds the very notion of a "solo" performer, especially one who operates under a pseudonym. It suggests a commitment to one's craft, away from idle chitchat - and the potential magic of that inspired retreat. The same trajectory, directed far from urban clamor, is now extended through a modest side-project - Fantom Sea - and a new EP. The tracks are simply titled "Image One," "Image Two," and "Image Three."

Fantom Sea (Minsk): "Image One" (2012)

The instrumentals are attributed to Diamos Roll in an almost unnoticeable manner; even the artwork suggests our composer might only be involved as a "producer," in the traditional sense of the word. This reduction of authorial grandeur simply foregrounds the unfocused "images" of some natural vista that's consistently sought - yet only vaguely determined. Atmospheres take precedence over concrete locations. Dreams trump drudgery - since they might take place anywhere.

Simplest of all the works on display here are the two miniature EPs from Moscow's Denis Dubovik, who until recently played in the now-defunct band MyHoliday. He is currently investing his efforts in the fledgling group Diatonique, but has still found time for two lo-fi side-projects. A couple of teeny recordings have appeared under the stage-names of Thy Birds and Treize. Once again, their author's name is barely visible. Not only does Dubovik create two semi-anonymous EPs in order to publish some aesthetically similar or unified works; he also is hard to find on networking sites, documenting himself merely as "Don Di." Fixed identities give way to fragmentation.

The collected instrumentals of "Treize" have now been uploaded, almost in silence, left to the whim of public memory, or simply placed to one side by their makers. They're neither claimed nor loudly promoted. It's not a matter of faint commitment, merely an attitude towards individual effort against the humbling backdrop of nature and other (grander) processes. All these recordings from Tula, Nova Kakhovka, Minsk, and Moscow are quiet for a reason. They're the sound of modest composers dreaming of something big.

An understated brushstroke will always make the canvas look bigger.

Treize (Denis Dubovik and "Shy" - Ksenia Dubovik): "Treize" (2012)