Various Artists: A Simple Procedure

A Simple Procedure is a celebration of the legacy that comes to us from Cageian experimentalism and is a re-imagining of a seminal piece by the master – ‘Imaginary Landscape No. 5’, viewed through the lens of contemporary musical practice. Cage’s 1952 work was made for a solo dance performance by Jean Erdman entitled Portrait of a Lady and essentially constitutes an information series: a block-graph timeline score that uses as its source any 42 phonograph records from which fragments are selected and played with several changes in intensity from “soft” to “loud”. Originally the result depended on a series of chance operations made using the I Ching as a guide. The composition is at times frenetic, with as many as eight records playing within the span of a couple of seconds, and at other times sparse, with only one or no records whatsoever playing (Cage had also specified that there should be eight performers). The Estuary Ltd label decided to commission 42 new works for this project featuring a broad spectrum of acclaimed performers and composers of experimental music. Among the many contributors artists we find Blevin Blectum & Ed Osborn, Gilles Aubry, Robert Donne & Stephen Vitiello, Yann Novak & Robert Crouch, Davey Harms, Ren Schofield, Ernst Karel, Donna Parker and Attila Faravelli, all experimenters who willingly offered materials to Mark Cetilia to follow Cage’s process, giving rise to two separate versions, one digital and one analogue: a procedure that ultimately proved to be not-so-simple, but one that certainly served its purpose.

– Neural (2016)

Steve Roden + Mem1: A Floating Wave of Air

Mem1 are an experienced electroacoustic ensemble, heard here in collaboration with Steve Roden. The album, released on Estuary, seamlessly blends their respective contributions, drawing together the sounds of a modulated cello with gentle electronica, marrying analogue developments with digital effects obtained from small percussion and resonant found objects. The underlying logic is driven by an improvisational approach, also using instruments and vocals by Laura Cetilia. The tracks are free form, but in constant flux, moving through many emotional states and dimensions like a swarm of insects. The compositions are structures into six tracks, all intriguing and enjoyable. There is a consistency to the selected works; while each piece is permeated by surprising actions, these are still internally resonant, appropriate and well thought out.

– Neural (2016)

Steve Roden + Mem1: A Floating Wave of Air

A Floating Wave of Air reveals sound artist Steve Roden and electro-acoustic outfit Mem1 (Mark and Laura Cetilia) to be natural collaborators, especially in the way the seventy-six-minute recording seamlessly blends the respective contributions of the those involved. Having operated as a cello-and-electronics duo for many years now, the Cetilias infuse their improv-based performances with the kind of telepathy one might expect from a married couple, and consequently the material they produce presents itself as an indissoluble whole. Certainly her cello sound is so distinct, it can't help but separate itself out from the total sound mass. Having said that, the two purposefully sidestep an approach that would see the cello treated as the solo instrument and electronics the backdrop; instead, the cello is exploited less for its melodic potential than its textural richness.

Roden works comfortably across many platforms and disciplines, among them painting, drawing, film/video, and sound installation, and would thus seem to be a perfect partner for the Cetilias. The three first collaborated in 2007 when he participated in Mem1's Ctrl+Alt+Repeat series, after which the collaborators recorded material a year later at the Bubble House, his painting studio, in Pasadena, California. Five years on from that session, the three recorded again, this time at Studio 205 in the Cetilias' adopted hometown of Providence, Rhode Island. With A Floating Wave of Air sequenced so that the three 2008 settings alternate with the three from 2012, the recording's six-part “The Uncertainties of Movement” makes for an interesting study in comparison and contrast. The surprise, however, is not how dramatically unlike but rather how complementary the material from the two sessions is. Of course there are differences from one piece to the next, yet the six sound as if they could have all originated out of a single session, not two five years apart.

Though Roden (acoustic objects and electronics), Mark (analog modular and electronics), and Laura (cello, voice, and electronics) contribute different instrument sounds, the results, as mentioned before, are heard less as conglomerations of individual bits and more as collective sum-totals produced by micro-organisms. The pieces, which range from seven minutes to twenty-two, are predictably explorative and receptive to the improvisatory impulses of each participant, all of who are clearly comfortable with shaping material as it develops in real time. The insistent “II” receives unexpected thrust from a metronomic bass pulse, alongside of which the three distribute cello plucks, ripples, tears, and various other textural elements, while “VI” emits a controlled howl of plucks, rumbles, smears, and mewlings for fourteen alien minutes. Striking too is the longest piece, “IV,” which begins as a rippling swarm of querulous voices whose supplications are gradually extinguished by a swelling mass of grime and static; humming insistently, the material undergoes constant changes in shape as it advances, with Laura's cello advancing to the forefront at one point as an aquatic gurgle. At various moments on the recording, her soft voice surfaces, its wordless murmur a humanizing presence and effective complement to the other elements.

A natural analogue to the incessant flow of these recordings is the insect colony, where it's the collective activity that dazzles as opposed to the movements of any one creature. As interesting as it would be to see a video document of Roden and Mem1 in action, it's ultimately better that we're deprived of knowing who's doing what at any given moment so that “The Uncertainties of Movement” can be experienced at the level of pure sound.

– Textura (2015)

Steve Roden + Mem1: A Floating Wave of Air

Steve Roden is a sound and visual artist from Los Angeles. His works include painting, drawing, sculpture, film and video, sound installations and live performances. Between 1979 and 1982 Roden was the lead singer of the punk band Seditionaries and in 1997 began his career in sound art. He has released over thirty albums and EP's as solo artist and in collaboration with other artists.

Mem1 composed by Mark and Laura Cetilia combine electronics and cello started in the world of sonic exploration in Los Angeles in 2003. Both are curators of experimental music series Ctrl+Alt+Repeat and the record label Estuary Ltd. Steve Roden on acoustic objects and electronics, Mark Cetilia analog modular and electronics and Laura Cetilia on cello, voice and electronics collaborated for the first in 2008 and in 2013, both are included in this CD.

'A Floating Wave of Air' display tracks in which unfolds microscopic sound waves, ripples, cello plucks and found objects which are electronically manipulated. The unnerving atmospheres as on 'IV' combine voices that emit howls that come together with dense cosmic dust and a cello producing sustained drones.

Certain harmony hovers in cello plucks and Laura’s whispering voice on 'V' suggest a melancholic and hesitant piece which appears to be the epilogue of a story. Amazing album that provide subtle textures and environments. 5 / 5 -Guillermo Escudero

– Loop (2015)

Steve Roden + Mem1: A Floating Wave of Air

Mit 'The Opening of the Field', 'Airforms' und 'Possible Landscapes' deutet Roden die lauschige Unbestimmtheit an, in die er, allein oder in Gesellschaft von Wanderfreunden wie Brandon LaBelle, Toy Bizarre, Bernhard Günter, Francisco López oder Machinefabriek, eindringt. Wobei Wandern schon zu viel gesagt ist, die Felder, die sich da auftun, sind, unfassbarer als Luft und Wasser, viel zu vage für grobe Füße. Auch 'The Uncertainties of Movement', die sechs Streifzüge, die er 2008 und 2013 unternommen hat zusammen mit dem Mem1-Couple Laura & Mark Cetilia, folgen lediglich krakeligen Linien oder Strichen in skizzenhaften Koordinatengittern als kryptischen 'Wanderkarten'. Mit psychogeo-graphischem Dèrive ist das allenfalls um drei Ecken verwandt. Es ist das eher das allmähliche Verfertigen weiterer Dimensionen um einen dünnen Faden herum, an dem sich Cello & Stimme, ein analoger Modularsynthesizer, Rodens acoustic objects und allgemein Electronics entlang tasten. Die Cetilias, die sich übrigens 2003 bei Roden in L.A. kennengelernt haben, sind inzwischen in Rhode Island mit Estuary Ltd. in Providence und der Konzertreihe Ctrl+Alt+Repeat in Pawtucket profilierte Verfechter grenzverletzender Elektroakustik. So auch mit hier. ('I') Rubbelige und hechelnde Verschleifungen und spitzes Pizzikato lösen kakophone ebenso wie sonore Dröhnwellen aus. Und kläfft da nicht ein kleiner Hund? ('II') Zu einem wummrigen Zitterpuls kommen ein heller und ein furzeliger dazu, dazu pumpt schneller Herzschlag, akzentuiert mit einem metallioden Plonken, zarter Vokalisation und zartem Flöten. ('III') Zu wie geblasenen, tröpfeligen, rostigen und knarzigen Lauten ertönen Rufe, aber wie von Vinyl gescratcht, wobei das nun auch von schnarchenden Cellostrichen und gesummtem Singsang durchsetzte Ganze sich anhört wie aus Loops gefügt und in Traumflüssigkeit getaucht. ('IV') In knurschendes Vinyl mischt sich Wolfs- oder Windgeheul, mit einer dröhnenden, pfeifenden Bewegung, die sich zu einer Flatterwelle verdichtet und wieder entspannt zu einem pfeifenden Pulsieren mit Cellobeiklang und zuletzt auch wieder Singsang. Pulsierend, sich drehend, atmend, driftend verlieren Menschliches, Naturhaftes und Maschinelles die Konturen. Besonders schön gelingt das bei 'V', wenn sich aus Krimskramerei harmonische Cellowellen und -pizzikato herausschälen, erneut zu vokalisiertem Lullaby. Bei 'VI' erschallen tutende Hörner über knarrenden Fröschen und Harmonikaklang, der im Wind bibbert. Wieder knurscht Vinyl wie Harsch, wieder spielen imaginäre Wölfchen Flöte, spielt der Regen Cello. Aber wohin führt das, wenn man Wölfe mit Flöten, Frauen mit Hüten und Ruß mit Schnee verwechselt? -Rigobert Dittman

– Bad Alchemy (2015)

Laura Cetilia: Used, Broken & Unwanted

One tends to think of Laura Cetilia as the classically trained cello half of Mem1, with her partner Mark Cetilia responsible for the electronics side, but Laura's solo outing Used, Broken & Unwanted reveals that such a characterization is oversimplified. Yes, cello does play a significant part on the recording, but it would be more accurate to describe it as an electro-acoustic as opposed to cello-based set, especially when the recording's seven live-recorded pieces are fleshed out with autoharp, voice, and electronics sounds in addition to her signature instrument. When not involved in solo work or Mem1 productions, Laura, a graduate of the School of Music at Indiana University and Wichita State University, also partners with violist Robin Streb in Suna No Onna and is a member of the Eastern Connecticut Symphony Orchestra and New Bedford Symphony.

There are many striking things about the recording. One notices first of all that Laura's soundworld is relatively quiet, the aptly titled reverie "Endless Bliss" a clear case in point, with nary a Merzbow-like blast in sight—though "Plucked from Obscurity," it must be said, does screech and howl lustily for seven cataclysmic minutes. But generally speaking, her strategy is to seduce the listener with unusual arrays of sounds (bells and woozy tinklings colliding with rippling combustion during "Plucked from Obscurity," for example) and an always adventurous compositional sensibility. Another memorable detail is her soft wordless vocalizing, which surfaces throughout (it's, in fact, the first sound on the fifty-three-minute recording) and lends a humanizing quality to the material's at times abstract character.

In the immersive title track, Cetilia's real-time material develops unhurriedly as a dense, open-ended mass packed with string textures, hushed vocal musings, granular static, and controlled eruptions. The album also includes an insectoid, wavering drone ("Thrum / Pin") and another that presents a controlled swarm of high-pitched micro-sounds ("Blinding Light"). The album's key track is arguably "Tears of Things," an encompassing setting of cello-generated creaks and bowed tones that slowly swells in size and density over the course of fourteen hyper-tense minutes. Though Laura apparently got the album title from after a pawn shop sign she once saw, the recording is—or at least should be—anything but unwanted, even if some of its sounds might be called broken in a particular sense of the word.

– Textura (2014)

Laura Cetilia: Used, Broken & Unwanted

Diese aus Los Angeles stammende Cellistin spielt zwar auch in Symphonieorchestern, lieber aber macht sie Neue Musik, etwa im elektro-akustischen Ensemble Mem1. Im Duo Suna No Onna führte sie Werke in Wandelweiser-Ästhetik auf, solo präsentierte sie sich schon im Kontext mit Ryoji Ikeda. Das schicke ich als Hinweise voraus, bevor ich meine Sinne den 7 Kompositionen aussetze, die Cetilia für sich selber entworfen hat, für Cello, Autoharp, Stimme & Electronics. Gleich das Titelstück, benannt nach einem Secondhandlädchen, bestätigt meine Erwartung an eine Musikerin mit einem Faible für Jürg Frey und Antoine Beuger. Fieldrecordings als gischtige und knarrende Kulisse bilden eine maritime Folie für zartesten, tagträumerisch selbstvergessenen Singsang. Eine Seejungfrau mag sich so die imaginären Zehennägel lackieren und sie vom Atem Gottes trocknen lassen. Dass sie gestandene Seebären dabei um den Verstand bringt, bemerkt sie garnicht. 'Thrum / Pin' ist mit einem nadelig steppenden Puls unterlegt, die Stimme ist noch vager und eigentlich nur ein körperloses Gurren. Elektronische Wellen und ein Hauch von Harmonik bilden einen fadenscheinigen Horizont, eine metalloide Halluzination. 'Endless Bliss' variiert diesen Eindruck erneut mit einem Pulsieren, einem Hauch von Stimme, einem zarten Blinken. 'Plucked from Obscurity' taucht einen dagegen bis über beide Ohren in eine Störfront aus prasselndem Noise, durchhallt von glockigem Gedonge, gedämpft und zuletzt seltsam verbogen. Dazu erklingt ein silberdrahtiges Beinahenichts. 'Palpitations' entsteht offenbar durch das monotone Strumming von Autoharpstrings, durchsetzt mit schnarrenden Lauten, einem hohen Pfeifton und kurz auch dem paranormalen Hey-Ho einer 3-jährigen. 'Blinding Light' pulsiert in Mikropixeln, ein Pfeifen und ein noch feineres Sirren beginnen zu leuchten, gelegentlich gestört von platzenden Bläschen oder einem Flirren wie von Insektenflügeln gegen Glas. Ein Cello kann ich erst ganz zuletzt erkennen, erst als das Pizzikato zum knarrigen 'Tears of Things', dann doch auch als elegische Häufung von Bogenstrichen. -Rigobert Dittman

– Bad Alchemy (2014)

Laura Cetilia: Used, Broken & Unwanted

Laura Cetilia, violoncelle, autoharp, voix & électroniques. Moitié du groupe Mem1, Laura Cetilia distille ici une musique d'ambiances nocturnes et mystérieuses, des entrelacements de miniatures électroniques desquels surgissent chuchotement et cordes pincées. Et parfois la nuit remue fortement et l'agitation grandit. Une musique raffinée déconseillée pour les impatients.

– Metamkine (2014)

Mem1: Suspensions

Notwithstanding the 2011 release of Age of Insects, a collaborative effort with Stephen Vitiello (issued on Dragon's Eye Recordings), the last formal Mem1 recording issued by Mark and Laura Cetilia, Tetra, appeared in 2010, which the married couple released on their own Estuary Ltd. imprint. So the 2013 release of two companion Mem1 sets on the Radical Matters Editions label and a solo outing by Mark on Estuary Ltd amounts to a seeming deluge of new material from the Cetilias. As on previous recordings, the Mem1 sets blend Laura's cello playing (and electronics) with the real-time sound sculpting Mark generates using analog modular and electronics, while Mark's solo outing understandably presents a comparatively purer sound design.

Scant clarifying information accompanies the two Radical Matters recordings, but that's hardly a crippling concern when the material speaks for itself so handily. The releases present four long-form electro-acoustic tracks, three of them in the half-hour vicinity and the fourth a wee fourteen minutes by comparison. The settings give the impression of being live improvs, though whether they were laid down in the studio or in a live setting isn't clear (if the latter, all traces of crowd noise have been stripped away). Eschewing melody in the conventional sense, the Cetilias' focus is on immersive, long-form dronescaping in these four settings.

Luxurious length in this case is no minor detail as it enables the pair to develop the material patiently and organically. At the outset of a piece, the two fashion a quiet yet restlessly percolating bed of electronic activity to which the cello's bowed tones are conjoined, and thereafter allow the material to build in natural manner, with the electronic burbling intensifying and the cello tones multiplying. Other details creep in at judicious moments: muffled voices, distortion rendering their words indecipherable, emerge halfway through “Suspensions I” as the sound mass takes on an increasingly industrial and then electrical quality. In this particular setting, the omnipresent creak of the cello gives the material a ghostly, even haunted character, as it works towards a strings-heavy climax that while claustrophobic in tone is beautifully paced, too. In similar manner, “Suspensions II” breathes like a living organism, its instrument sounds rising and falling as the piece evolves through a series of mutating episodes. Once again, the activity level intensifies as it moves into its final third, with the cavernous rumble of electronics an accompaniment to the cello's groan.

Real-world noises (perhaps field recordings-derived) seep into the opening moments of “Anticipations I” before they're smothered by the sputter and crackle of electronics and the guttural see-saw of the cello. A sense of drift shadows the middle section as the duo ponders where to go next until a series of ominous cello tones imposes direction and guides the piece to a dark, unsettling close. It's a haunted quality that carries over into “Anticipations II,” which rumbles quietly with an undercurrent of modest threat for an unsettling ten minutes until a seething coda introduces a marked change in disposition. Despite the prominent role played by electronics, the duo's music exudes an elemental quality, as if it's material that having long gestated below ground is only now oozing to the earth's surface. The releases' titles are apt, too, given that the listener attends with anticipation to where the material will venture as it undertakes its long journeys and experiences some degree of time suspension during the unfolding of a half-hour setting.

– Textura (2013)

Mem1: Anticipations

– Textura (2013)

Mem1: The Grove Dictionary of American Music

Mem1: Experimental electronic performance ensemble. Founded in 2003 by Laura and Mark Cetilia, a wife-and-husband team, Mem1 creates original music for cello and electronics, as well as video and installation art… [Based in] Providence, Rhode Island, Mem1 owns and operates Estuary Ltd., a record label dedicated to experimental music and sound art, and organizes Ctrl+Alt+Repeat, a performance series for new music… The duo has performed throughout the United States, Europe, and the Middle East, and has collaborated with Steve Roden and the Penderecki String Quartet, among many others. In addition to several albums dedicated to the duo’s original music—including Alexipharmaca (2006), Stationary Drift (2009), and Tetra (2010)—Mem1 has released an album of collaborative works, titled +1 (2009), and an album-length collaboration with Stephen Vitiello, Age of Insects (2011).

A Mem1 piece is typically an improvised, collaborative birthing and nurturing of a singular yet texturally complex sound. Spontaneously but carefully and gradually, the sound may begin as the breathing of the cello, played by Laura… Using a pick-up and laptop computer, Laura samples her own sound in real time, and loops them using looping/delay pedals that she operates with her feet while improvising on the cello. Her playing is far from traditional: she uses no vibrato, no figuration; she strives for thin tones of extensive duration, and employs extended techniques. Her idiosyncratic sounds also serve as source material for Mark, who samples and manipulates them in real time, with a laptop running software designed by the artist himself. He also adds to the burgeoning sonic texture using an analog modular synthesis system. Often the collaborative result sounds neither like a cello nor like electronics…

Mem1 is a unified cybernetic force, or complex cybernetic entity, comprised of two human artists plus their instruments and systems. In fact, Mem1’s evolving, custom-built systems are as important an aspect of the duo’s achievements as their ever-innovative sound. Confounding the complexities inherent in human-machine and human-instrument relationship, Mem1 understands its music as a feedback loop between the past and present.

– The Grove Dictionary of American Music (Second Edition) ed. Charles Hiroshi Garrett, Oxford University Press (2013)

Mem1: Sound Objects: Speculative Perspectives

A dissertation submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree Doctor of Philosophy in Musicology.

– Mandy-Suzanne Wong (2012)

Mem1: Tetra

A while back we reviewed two cds from the LA based duo of Mark And Laura Cetilla, one a collaboration with bigger avant music names (Steve Roden, Jan Jelinek, Frank Bretschneider), the other the duo's own dark sonic concoction, and while the guests on the collaborative record definitely made for interesting listening, we much preferred the Cetillas' work unadorned, a hushed minimal darkness, brooding, and softly caustic, ominous and strangely menacing. The sounds here on their first proper full length LP, seem to be a continuation from the music presented on that CD.

Three longform compositions, of smoldering lowercase sound, what sounds like bowed strings, and reverberating metal, blurred into a murky concoction of shimmering grey thrum and dense softly undulating swells, the vibe is definitely cinematic, conjuring up all manner of bleak and abject imagery, evoking decay, and distance, the drones alive with overtones and constantly shifting layers, noisy in places, but the noise blunted and smoothed out into rough expanses of warm buzz and softly prickly hum. There are moments of pure unfettered speaker shredding noise, but even within these blown out squalls, lurk all manner of rich texture and subtle shading. That said, most of the record is spent in hushed drift mode, the final track the most fully fleshed out, with the original instruments still recognizable, the tones organic and only lightly effected, drifting on a sea of distant blackened shimmer, and softly roiling whir and hiss, before finally smoothing out, into a final coda of warm, dreamy (and still slightly ominous tranquility). Dark abstract loveliness for sure, the sort of thing that folks into Jasper TX, Machinefabriek and Type Records might dig quite a bit.

Limited to 300 copies, each one hand numbered, packaged in super swank matte finish jackets, and includes a download coupon as well.

– Aquarius Records (2012)

Mem1 + Stephen Vitiello: Age of Insects

It’s always great to hear musicians expand on sounds and ideas that worked well in the past. And truly, I was blown away by Mem1’s 2010 album “Tetra,” a colossal and intricate drone album. If “Age of Insects” is any indication, the duo is showing no signs of slowing down. For this release, Mem1’s Mark (electronics) and Laura Cetilia (cello) team up with electronic musician Stephen Vitiello, who brings his own brand of technical sound magic to the proceedings. From what I can tell, Vitiello seems to add an array of electronic punctuation to the mix with beats, pulses, and sound effects. Mem1’s music seems to dwell in more deep and dense territories than Vitiello’s, so this is yet another layer to an already complex mix. This album is a collaboration in the truest sense, as everyone seems to have come together to create something truly special.

“Age of Insects” is something of a concept album as each of the seven pieces are named for ancient extinct insects and the music is meant to evoke “the imagined hum and flutter of their calls, flight and communication.” With this in mind, it’s not hard to envision a primordial landscape buzzing with any number of bizarre creatures when listening to this. There’s something almost menacing about the music, but at the same time, it’s also deeply beautiful and enveloping.

Some of the pieces seem to take the whole ancient bug idea very literally, such as the track “Monura.” Consisting of a series of slow cello tones among electronic hums and buzzes, it really gives the feeling of being set down in the middle of some ancient forest. Still, it’s the closing piece “Electrinocellia” that best creates this environment, probably because its seems the most minimal in its construction, with only a few light drones and a series of odd croaks and blips to set the mood. Still, even when things are at their most buggy, as it were, there is an overwhelming sense that you are listening to well-crafted music, which really makes this album succeed outside of its stated concept.

Other pieces are far more abstract. The opening track “Cascoplecia,” for example, is a swirling mix of pulsing electronics and drones along with ghostly breathy noises. Eventually, this all gives way to a nearly volcanic rumble punctuated by errant notes. It’s almost like an abstract, dark new age piece (this is a compliment, by the way), full of deep atmosphere and sinister beauty. “Paleophaedron” is another instance where the overall theme seems less overt, as staccato electronic pulses rise and fall over a background of subdued, oceanic drones.

All conceptualization and analysis aside, the music on “Age of Insects” is really powerful stuff. When something is this well-executed and beautifully complex, it’s hard to listen and not get fully enveloped in it. With its swirling darkness and mysterious sounds, this will be a great album for the coming winter months. Definitely pick this one up. -Matt Blackall

– Foxy Digitalis (2011)

Mem1 + Stephen Vitiello: Age of Insects

The teeming Age of Insects... finds Mem1 with electronicist Stephen Vitiello communing in dialogue analogue and digital, converging field recordings and instrumental performance. Fuelled by sound-visions of extinct insects, cello-electronics fusers Mark and Laura Cetilia propose a post-production pact with Vitiello, skimping on afters to savour some of the real-time flavours from the studio session mains. The album’s sonic habit seems to stem as much from this decision to lay off as much as to intervene; earth and air, organic, as if a semiotic of imagined mandible chatter. These electro-acoustic microsound sculptures are given their head, cast in textures of oil and grit, a caustic scrim of sinetone sputter, tenebrous hum and thrum. “Cascoplecia” and “Ektatotricha” set the tone with zoom-ins and pans across an insectoid microcosmos, in which all manner of flute’n’flutter and creepy crawl’n’scuttle range through woozy mid-range drone wormholes, tumbling into fetid chambers of alien unquiet. “Vosila” takes a different turn, a felicitous encounter of natural and electronic that tosses the cello’s throaty bowings and keening scrapes in a crepitating sweet and sour soup. “Paleophaedon” takes some sci-fi blips and whirrs for a walk in the black Kosmische forest at the edge of the twilight zone to a remote headachey feedback and pulse backdrop. Low-frequency detail is especially engaging in the final “Monura” and “Electrinocellia,” both possessed of an appealing strangeness with a touch of something almost plangent, perhaps signifying an elegy for the extinction of these invertebrate ancients. Sonorities may lose individuality, especially when cello states are altered to buzz-tone and fuzz-drone; generally, though, Age of Insects retains a certain resonant character through its mix of electroacoustic and concrète with transient melodic and rhythmic detail, ensuring a satisfying sonic envisioning of concept.

– Igloo Magazine (2011)

Mem1 + Stephen Vitiello: Age of Insects

This latest project — which combines field recordings with both analog and digital electronic instruments — spawned from a series of meetings between Mark and Laura Cetyl in Stephen Vitiello's Viginia studio between May 2009 and January 2010. The sound pieces in question, organized into seven separate tracks, are carefully prepared but show only minimal editing and post-production calibrations, since the primary aim of the authors was to capture the very act of giving life and "substance" to the "pieces" themselves. The mix of spacey frequencies and teeming organic glitches are unraveled among insectoid creaks and mixed with flickers, sprays, signal variations, and gritty, immaterial sounds. Drones and volume jumps dominate, with white noise, a cavernous bass and hums interspersed with metallic soundbites and tremulous passages. This isn't all; in the plethora of materials and techniques used, gurgles, feedback, vintage sounds and futuristic digressions also emerge. Here are uncomfortable alien soundscapes, totally engaging in their bright stellar aplomb. –Aurelio Cianciotta

– Neural (2011)

Naho Taruishi + Laura Cetilia: Corner Projection No. 6

Innovative local curators Sam Keller and Tabitha Piseno of R.K. Projects have been working with artists for the past year to allow them the opportunity to present their work in a non-traditional way. This Friday marks the opening of a new exhibit springing from that effort-- a collaboration with artist Naho Taruishi and classical musician Laura Cetilia to present a sensory experience exhibition that will be housed at 60 Orange St in downtown Providence. The work between these two women bears the rich creative fruit that could only have been achieved by their willingness to trust each other and be unafraid of where the process would lead them.

Laura Cetilia approached Keller and Piseno in January of 2010 to talk about her collaboration with the New York-based artist, Naho Taruishi. Taruishi had been working on a video installation series entitled “Corner Projections” since 2009. These installations reflects the unspoken necessity and importance of corners in a room. Number 6, which is featured in this new exhibition, reflects corners as well as a collaboration between two artists. Cetilia, a cellist, composed a computer-manipulated soundtrack that was inspired by the Taruishi’s video work, but the collaboration was ongoing because then Taruishi altered her work when inspired by the music. Taruishi also created a series of graphite and ink drawings inspired by her reaction to this deeply creative process.

Since R.K. has no formal home base gallery, each exhibit has its own unique space to allow the work and the space to truly reflect the work of the artist rather than the same space being manipulated repeatedly to try to fit the needs to the work. For this show, Taruishi and Cetilia were very much a part of selecting the space where the work would be viewed. R.K. Projects whittled down a list of properties for the artists to visit so they could have the final choice of location. 60 Orange Street was selected because the space doesn’t have many sources of natural light which creates a more dramatic feel for the installation. The decision to use the Orange Street location also adds another exciting element to all the work that is being done to spice up downtown.

Ultimately, R.K Projects has given Rhode Island a great example of how great art doesn’t need to be a solo project created in a lonely studio or done while laying on your back staring at a church ceiling by candle light. The installations of Naho Taruishi and the sound of Laura Cetilia is a wonderful collaboration yielding interesting work and is an exhibition not to be missed. -Renée Doucette

– GoLocalProv (2011)

Mem1 + Stephen Vitiello: Age of Insects

Age of Insects is the first published collaborative work by electroacoustic duo Mem1 (Mark and Laura Cetilla) and NY artist Stephen Vitiello where they recorded a series of improvisations and released them without major editing or post-production treatment.

The first piece of the release is Cascoplecia which starts with sonorities reminiscent of ambient music but through the middle the piece takes an interesting turn into a more concrete sonority where drones and field recordings build this gigantic sound object that would later disappear to bring back the melodic elements that started the piece to have them interacting with a series of harsh sounds evoking the sonority of insects.

Ektatotricha, the second piece, works like some sort of progression where this deaf low sounds goes through the whole piece finally merging with different sounds that again remind of insects but that now make emphasis on the textural and percussive element. The piece successfully deals with temporality through a strong organic sense of progression and repetition.

Vosila, piece number three, takes the listener through droning rusty metallic sonorities depicting a combination of strings and junk that slowly surrounds the listener taking him across textural and objectual sounds that on a subjective observation reminds me of gigantic insects flying around waiving their wings. This piece is a good example of the physical character of this release in terms of establishing a believable and sensible acoustic universe rendered through very well depicted forms and shapes of abstract nature.

Prothoplasma is one of the strongest pieces of the release. It starts through a depicted dark environment that builds up to a harsh noisy sound that gets louder and louder until it suddenly fades out at the end. There is a powerful “element” through this piece that I have a hard time articulating through words which brings to my mind the problem of writing about sound works: the problem of being aware of something through the sensible experience but not being able to break it down into anything else than what it is: a sound object.

Paleophaedon is a short piece where different elements work together such as slow melodic patters and repetitive machine-like sounds. The piece goes deeper as time lapses until it reaches a fading depth.

Piece number five, Monura, features a strongest presence of electroacoustic formal elements where droning sounds and sine waves take the listener through this 8’33” experience that is explored across dreamlike images and bizarre sonorities full of mystery and uncertainty.

Electrinocellia is the final piece of the release, which has this beautiful strangeness that is successfully developed through the proven capacity of the artists to build sounds with a tangible physical presence and where every object appears real and purposely dealing with its environment. Electrinocellia potentates the narrative character of the release through the use of concrete sounds juxtaposed melodic and rhythmic elements full of intention and meaning.

Age of Insects is an effective example of the strengths of improvised music in terms of dealing with time and temporality in part because the artists constantly deal with the right here right now using the timeline as one of the key formal elements. The aesthetic acoustic considerations present in Age of Insects are very successful in terms of how they build this universe (conceptually and formally) and establish this object-space-time relation that works on a perceptual level building up images of wires, insects, metallic surfaces and bizarrely depicted temporalities and spatialities. -John McEnroe

– The Field Reporter (2011)

Mem1: Tetra

Excellent LP of cello and electronics minimalism from this Los Angeles duo. Mark and Laura Cetilia pride themselves on the “seamless blend” of their respective sound contributions, so there are few sharp edges on this record, but it’s certainly not empty, vacuous droning. Rather, what characterises Mem’s music is a very focussed approach to performance which requires coninual concentration, listening to the other player, and close attention to detail. On this very warm and human LP, Mem1 are striking a good balance between composed / improvised and electronic / analogue musics, and their personalities are completely in synch.

I say “warm and human,” realising that both the tracks on Side A may at frist convey the exact opposite sensations on early spins. Part of their project is aiming for an alien, distanced effect, and overall they would be happy to convey the feeling of being alone and lost in a small dark place (or a wide open alien desert). Mem1 would like to encourage interpretations framed in geographic and topographical terms (see their own sleeve notes), and seem drawn to extreme and desolate situations. Along with this, they play in a rather solemn (but not pretentious) fashion. ‘Trieste’ is extremely forlorn, emotional, and melancholy, and your bio-rhythms will slow down in sympathy with its attenuated progressions. ‘Caldera’ is even more abstracted, offering mysterious and slow sensations fit for a ninth-level mind to ponder in isolation. Solid yet nebulous blocks of sound collide and shift, and the playing becomes extremely intense towards the end. These two cuts studiously avoid turning into “gothic’ drone, yet remain quite lugubrious in tone.

The B side is a single long track called ‘Hræsvelgr.’ Right away we notice the playing is not quite as urgent or busy as the first side (if anything so pale and wan can be said to be propelled by urgency). The ambiguous long tones are spacey and deep, and everything appears to be happening in slow motion. This is very much the hoped-for effect of being suspended in a warm and very deep ocean. While not as intense as the A side, this is a more welcome place to exist. Very nicely presented-art object (the creators call it “hand-crafted”) with clear vinyl pressing housed in a screenprinted cover lush with metallic inks; first release on the label, limited to 300 copies. -Ed Pinsent.

– The Sound Projector (2011)

Mem1 + Stephen Vitiello: Age of Insects

Age of Insects is all harsh static whirrs, guttural bass croaks and phased white noise, the imaginary calls and conversations of extinct insects created via electro-acoustic improvisation. In crafting these sounds, the collaborators threaded the concept through a backdrop of drone and minimal ambient. In fact, the album’s affiliation with its concept rises more out of its production than the timbre of the sounds themselves. Age of Insects feels warm and organic, as though granting insight into the meticulous scientific processes behind this insect resurrection, incorporating the hum of standby machinery and the throb of harsh laboratory lights. While a more explicit exploration of its concept may have encouraged a more inventive use of sound experimentation, Age of Insects could have easily descended into a tiresome gimmick. The artists were wise enough to stick to their strengths, and this album has fared better for it.

– The Silent Ballet (2011)

Mem1 + Stephen Vitiello: Age of Insects

J‘imagine Mark & Laura Cetilia (Mem1) faire la route de chez eux au studio de Stephen Vitiello. J‘imagine le trio réfléchir à cet Age of Insects, aux moyens de concilier électronique, acoustique et field recordings. Après quoi, j‘écoute ce qui est ressorti de leur collaboration.

Mis à part le violoncelle de Laura Cetilia, on ne sait quels sont les instruments utilisés ici – la pochette du disque ne le dit pas. Un souffle chaud vibre, mais provient-il d‘un orgue ou d‘une flûte de cristal ? Des craquements dans l‘atmosphère font que tout l‘univers sonore vibre à son tour. Son arborescence est indescriptible, ce qui fait beaucoup de mystères. Beaucoup de mystères et beaucoup de beauté dont les conséquences sont indescriptibles. -Pierre Cécile

– Le Son du Grisli (2011)

Mem1 + Stephen Vitiello: Age of Insects

A record featuring elements of improvisation suitable to the coincidence and management of a multitude of electroacoustic sources, Age Of Insects represents the crop of repeated meetings between the duo of Laura and Mark Cetilia – recent engenderers of the excellent Tetra on their own label Estuary Ltd. – and Stephen Vitiello, a quiet wire-puller in the zone where the condensation of concrete and abstract sounds produces innovative aural suggestions. The seven tracks – recorded at Vitiello’s studio in Richmond – are symbolically connected to an unreal, yet vivid impression of “extinct insects – the imagined hum and flutter of their calls, flight and communication”. While some of the sonorities might indeed recall comparable milieus, especially when the tones of Laura Cetilia’s cello get mercilessly modified to bionic buzzing by the processing strategies applied by her partner, the inherent organic qualities of the music are striking regardless of speculative inspirations and references. Obviously, the droning traits of the trio’s work in the low-frequency area are quite engrossing, primarily in the final episodes “Monura” and “Electrinocellia”, the latter closing the album with a touch of genuine poignancy bathed in tremulous angst. The artists arrive at that point following maps containing nonfigurative sketches and beautifully resonant noises, occasionally bearing a vague resemblance to the extraterrestrial junctions typical of celebrated electronic champions from the 70s. Far from cheerfulness, loaded with unrevealed secrets, this resilient creature needs recurring attempts before breaking into its sonic shell. After that, it’s uncontaminated bliss for the large part of the time that you’ll devote to it. –Massimo Ricci

– Touching Extremes (2011)

Mem1 + Stephen Vitiello: Age of Insects

The premise behind Age of Insects is to imagine and replicate, through electro-acoustic improvisation, the sounds made by extinct insects. The result, tellingly, more closely evokes the noise and world of industry, the cause of these creatures destruction.

It’s a welcomely unsympathetic and abnormally restrained exploration of this world, avoiding the frenzied chatter usually associated with magnified visions of insect life, such as those heard buzzing madly around Jeffrey Beaumont’s stroke-struck father in the opening scene of Blue Velvet, or the deafening whine of cicadas in countless field recordings. Mem1, the husband-wife cello-electronics duo of Mark and Laura Cetilia, are no strangers to collaboration and their microsound approach fits well with Stephen Vitiello’s electronics, creating fluid layers of grit, subdued scrapes, flickering sine tones and amorphous hum.

‘Protophasma’ employs a buzzing oscillation and a dull industrial growl which builds, gradually, in intensity until it sounds like the revving engines of an airplane. In ‘Paleophaedon’ the blips and whirrs of vintage sci-fi flit between walls of grey fluff and a looped bass pulse. ‘Electrinocellia’ introduces aquatic gurgles, controlled feedback, and a low-end thwack made from colliding rocks. Age of Insects most closely evokes an industrious world of ants, contentedly committed to their subterranean assembly line labour. –Joshua Meggitt

– Cyclic Defrost Magazine (2011)

Mem1 + Stephen Vitiello: Age of Insects

Bowed sound objects, a deep breath, field recordings that seem to be taken in the country side, plus a heavy processing, opens “Age of Insects”, a work that comprised the collaboration between Mark and Laura Cetilia, -cello-electronics duo who founded Mem1 in Los Angeles in 2003-, and renown composer and media artist Stephen Vitiello. The buzzing noises of insects made with analog devices and software design interact with the sound of metal objects oscillations like, flickering sine tones that create a disturbing atmosphere. 5 / 5 -Guillermo Escudero

– Loop (2011)

Mem1: Tetra

The best albums always seem to have something new to show you every time you play them, even years after the first listen. Buried sounds and ideas emerge as layers of music work their way into your psyche. Mem1 is a duo that seems especially primed for this phenomenon, given the deceptive simplicity of their music. Their bare-bones manifesto, if you will, is to "create a single voice rather than a duet between two individuals." I don't normally buy into press releases, but in this case, the description is especially apt as Laura Cetilia's effects-laden cello joins seamlessly with Mark Cetilia's electronics and synthesizer to form something reaching far beyond its base elements. For "Tetra," the duo has crafted an amazing album that not only showcases their powerful collaborative chemistry, but also stands out as an amazing bit of experimental drone music.

While Mem1's sound could certainly be labeled as dark and ominous, there is an underlying beauty that renders this album far more complex than it may seem on first impression. Really, the best way to navigate this intoxicating haze is to turn it way up and dive right in. The first track, "Trieste," lays the groundwork for the rest of the album. Immediately, the core of the group's sound is introduced, as cello and electronics begin to build and intertwine. Part of what makes this music so interesting is that it remains grounded in the familiar, thanks to the cello (even when it's highly distorted), while it simultaneously flies into uncharted territory. When fully assembled, the track melds the electronic and the earthy to become a thick stew of drones, tones, pulses, and squall.

As if to prove that they're no one-trick pony, Mem1 offers up the next piece, "Caldera," which pushes their sound into extremely noisy territory. The most striking part of the song is the Tibetan horn-like buzz that comes from the manipulated cello, yet even this wouldn't be half as interesting without everything else that happens in this sonic space. As it progresses, the track becomes a massive wall of sound, churning and breathing with a range of high and low noises.

The album ends with the massive, side-long closer "Hræsvelgr," which mixes things up further and demonstrates how the duo maintains their power even when creating softer sounds. Here, the cello sound is the most naked and you really get a sense of what is going on behind the cloak of electronic noise present elsewhere. Even though things are much quieter, the track still seethes with lots of subdued energy and benefits from the same powerful instrumental alchemy heard previously on the album.

To put it simply, this is definitely one of the best drone records I've heard in some time. I'm excited to have heard this, but as I mentioned before, I'm really looking forward to seeing what this album will reveal to me months and even years from now. There's a lot of magic hidden in these grooves and I can't wait to find more of it. Mem1 seems to have known what they had on their hands, as well. Every effort went into the physical presentation of their work, as they crafted handmade sleeves to hold their clear, 150-gram vinyl gems. Did I mention that this is a limited edition, too? Don't snooze on this one, or you'll regret it. -Matt Blackall (10/10)

– Foxy Digitalis (2011)

Mem1: Tetra

Laura Cetilia, violoncelle et électroniques. Mark Cetilia, synthétiseur analogique et électroniques. Troisième album de ce duo au catalogue qui continue sa recherche acoustique - électronique dans une quête de la vibration étendue. Archet continu et bourdonnement de fréquences basses. Bel objet et bonne gravure. Tirage limité et numéroté à 300 exemplaires.

– Metamkine (2011)

Mem1: Tetra

Distressed notes run asunder on Tetra, a vinyl-only offering from the duo, Mem1. A current, quivering along these three fine works, creates a unique yet indistinct mass that, as we follow along in its icy wake, degrades and renders the listener inert, as we wait to meet the ghosts.

On "Trieste", a protracted mist invites us into the abyss. A hypnotic, dream-like state ensues and I go beyond the reality of the sounds, finding a hidden universe to wallow and wade in. In this state, I am reminded of images of events that seem part of my life but may never have happened. Instead, remembrances of half-forgotten dreams that congeal to form tangible memories, of walking through a torrential downpour on a sunny day and finding a broken teacup in the middle of the sidewalk, the paint faded on one side and the leftover tea grains create a muddy mixture of water when mixed and churned with the raindrops. It seems fitting that each of these tracks is an exploration of an extreme environment. The water imagery runs rampant with "Trieste". Stranded on the ocean floor, I imagine the pressure becomes unbearable. Likewise, the finely tuned discordant noises design striations in the sand; the stillness and soft darkness allow for the pressure to languish, recede, and a massive cloud of upturned sand and soot gradually moves over the whole piece, coaxing the particulars out through the sallow abyss.

"Caldera" is by far the most forceful of the tracks. I was on the edge of my seat, clutching my headphones and my pen as I thought about ghosts. I dove into the music and began: Do we go to the ghosts or do the ghosts meet us? Must we be receptive to them? The rising din of sound allowed a presence to take shape in my mind, a feeling of connection to something other. I was reminded of stories a friend of mine told me, who grew up with a presence at his house. His family grew accustomed to the strange activity and disruptive noise, which would start off in a barely audible way and gradually increase as if the presence wanted the attention, or a connection to reality was getting stronger. I remember asking him whether they've taken measures to rid the house of this presence and he said that they all live together and that they've learned to accept the fact that the ghosts have as much a right to be there as they do. "Caldera" moves in similar way, ambling from inaudible squelches to a force that announces its presence at the top of its lungs. Similarly, after listening I feel as though I've experienced an encounter with a ghostly apparition, but it's hard to distinguish between what I thought happened or was merely a dream.

On side B, "Hraesvelgr" begins its slow, studied journey through a barren wasteland. The drifting wind perambulates through as a desolate horn clamors for air; assorted pangs of sound crop up, tingling far too far away. Stillness is revisited then abandoned. A charge of current levies a sustained drone. The sounds harkens back to this memory of sticking my finger in a light socket. While its likely this never happened to me, I imagine the feeling one has and the sound associated with this action, is not unlike what one hears on this track. For eighteen minutes, there's so much to explore and discover along the way. I revisit the striations in the sand to see if anything tangible can be discerned. I'm reminded of ghosts that never bothered to meet me. Certain dreams have become foundations of my memory; the teacup prevails and endures.

The measured brush strokes on Tetra are a triumph for Mem1. Each moment is significant to the next as these three profound pieces move beyond the reality of the sounds to create an ongoing expedition into the uncanny. -Michael Vitrano

– Fluid Radio (2011)

Mem1: Tetra

Tetra, the fourth full length album by Los Angeles-based duo Mem1 (Laura and Mark Cetilia) is a very puzzling sonic proposition. Abrasive and abstract on the surface, this mixture of analogue modular and processed cello improvisations seems quite opaque and aimlessly noisy at first. But upon immersion in sound, whilst turning off the outside world, Tetra's drones and electronics slowly emerge from an ocean of haze to reveal their surreal and majestic beauty. Made of three long forms, Tetra is neither ambient nor noise-music but aims to conjure up extreme and foreboding environments.

Opener Trieste starts with chthonic undercurrent of bass drones augmented with high-pitched hiss and echoes of cello, slowly disintegrating as they come to the fore. The multilayering created here give the awkward impression of swimming into sound, completely enveloping the listener with vivid harmonics. Very subtle melodic movements within the piece are just enough to add some subdued emotional layers and gently prepare the listener for the volcanic eruption to follow.

Caldera is indeed a slow and masterfully controlled crescendo of raw sonic lava. Starting with what sounds like an far-away aeroplane's engine resonating in the dark, the piece proceeds at the steady pace towards its final explosion, releasing analog flares from the speakers cones. Laura Cetilia's cello can be heard in the background, adding sombre yet tactile overtones to this doom-laden piece of very strong physical impact.

The album ends on a much quieter note with Hræsvelgr, named after a giant who takes eagle form, according to Norse Mythology. This 18-minute piece is probably the most delicate of the album and tells a aching story of sorrow and surrender to nature. The drones, carved out of Mark Cetilia's deep bass machines, are transformed and modulated so they echo the breathing of a wounded creature, trapped and unable to escape its fate – Hræsvelgr is a beautiful existential exploration that slowly return the music to silence, with abandon and grace.

The sound world created by Laura and Mark Cetilia is dark and otherwordly but very human nonetheless. Far from exploring desolated isolationist realms, Tetra displays an astonishing primal energy that transcend the duo's intentions, and turns this album into something rather unique and beautiful.

Tetra is available through Estuary ltd, in a numbered edition of 300 carefully crafted releases, on 150 gram clear vinyl with silkscreened artwork, designed and hand-printed by Mark Cetilia using metallic inks. -Pascal Savy

– Static Sound (2011)

Mem1: Tetra

Duo Mark and Laura Cetilia's work as 'Mem1' defines a relationship where both members are acutely tuned to each other; this is evident in the resulting sound they have produced in the three tracks that form their forth album 'Tetra'. Whilst their sound is mostly linear in structure, Mark's electronics - effects and custom made patches - provide layers of microsounds and affect Laura's cello which in turn seems to pre-empt her partners interpretations. Together they extract every nuance of vibration, imperfection, and harmonics to produce a very subtle depth of sound, through an improvised process.

'Trieste' is a quiet opener, providing a contrast to the tracks that follow. The cello is most recognisable, as it is stretched, warped and effected over the 12 minute piece. Central track 'Caldera' shares its name with a volcanic feature that forms when there is a collapse of land after an eruption into a crater-like shape. As with 'Trieste', it arrives quietly, but then builds; through dense reverberating string noise to a maelstrom of static and high pitched tense affected cello.

Hræsvelgr, last track in this set, weighs in at over 18 minutes long but somehow, becoming lost in the cold barren landscape it describes, this is suddenly not long enough. Hræsvelgr, from Norse mythology, is a giant who takes eagle form, this Scandinavian reference may well be homage to Deaf Center, or similar, as there are similarities to be found in this track. Mem1 however, expand the noises to produce a wider soundscape less concerned with melody and more with texture and describing an extreme environment.

This triptych of constructed stories, full of beautiful harmonics, raw noise and sonic impurities is certainly affecting. There is something about 'Tetra' that really resonates; there feels like an exploration going on, a fervency to finding new sounds, and a need to align them in new ways. A highly rewarding listen, one that allows the listener to embed themselves within, become lost in and suspend time for the album's duration. -Michael Waring

– Future Sequence (2011)

Mem1: Tetra

Ice-cold drone rumble from a duo of Mark Cetilia on synth and partner Laura Cetilia on cello, both using electronics to achieve these means. This is how you do underwater drone: you lay it on thick, in waves the listener can't anticipate, and push all of the air out of the space in an attempt at sonic totality. All three tracks on this LP reverberate with a lifeforce too large to be seen. A beautiful, carefully designed product in form and construction. 350 copies, clear vinyl. -Doug Mosurock

– Dusted Magazine (2011)

Mem1: Tetra

Time for some electro-acoustic action...This is the fourth album from the duo of Mark Cetilia (analogue modular + electronics) and Laura Cetilia, (cello + electronics) and this is the first release on their new label. The set begins with some gentle hums and drones and gradually builds with hovering frequencies and static. The Cello is pretty much unrecognizable in its original form so there's a fair amount of processing happening. Eventually things build into dense wall of chaotic sound which really hits the spot for me. A pleasure to listen to this evolve and grow. Check it out... On clear vinyl and hand numbered of 300 copies. -Clint

– Norman Records (2011)

Mem1: Tetra

Mem1's Tetra is a bona fide labour of love in more ways than one. It's the group's first release on its own newly formed experimental imprint Estuary Ltd., and even the artwork was produced by band member Mark Cetilia, who prepared 300 numbered editions that include clear vinyl discs and silkscreened artwork hand-printed with metallic inks. Having performed together under the Mem1 name since 2003, Mark (analogue modular and electronics) and Laura Cetilia (cello and electronics) have developed a symbiotic and highly personalized approach to experimental music-making that's commendably uncompromising, and ample evidence of their approach is captured on the duo's fourth full-length album, which was recorded during the spring months of 2010. Using custom hardware and software, the pair manipulates the cello's natural timbre using real-time modular synthesis patching, a process that results in a sound that's unique and immediately identifiable as Mem1.

During the twelve-minute opener “Trieste,” the sawing cello crawls like a primal entity gnashing its malformed teeth and scouring the ruined landscape as it drags itself across the incinerated terrain the duo conjures from electronics. Here and elsewhere, Laura's approach to the cello focuses less on its its conventional treatment as a melodic voice and more on the exploration of its textural and atmospheric possibilities. “Caldera” rises slowly from its own mist before mutating into a writhing behemoth whose violent wail grows into a humongous screech that's so lethal it feels like it could rip your head off. The second side's eighteen-minute “Hræsvelgr” opts for a more restrained excursion into spectral atmospherics with Laura and Mark allowing the collective sound to unfold patiently, almost as if in slow motion. In this case, the material moves like a marauding mass but does so less fiercely than the two pieces on side one. The future looks bright indeed for the Cetilias, given that 2011 will also see the fall release of Age of Insects, a full-length collaboration with Vitiello, on Dragon's Eye Recordings. Until then, Tetra will do just fine as a kind of representative portrait of Mem1 and its distinctive artistry.

– Textura (2011)