Back in 2018, we reviewed Lola de la Mata‘s REMISE EN BOUCHE, which introduced us to the work of this incredibly unique and insightful composer. One year later, she was diagnosed with tinnitus and vertigo and advised to give up her recording career. Her reaction was instead to go deeper: to dissect tinnitus from the inside out, using her own inner ear as inspiration. By exploring the aspects of a condition estimated to affect 750 million people around the world, she has opened a window to the affliction and produced what is now the definitive tinnitus album ~ an amazing feat given that very few people ever wish to hear these sounds.
While listening, some may experience a jolt of recognition: hey, that’s the pitch I hear! These tones are integrated into the compositions, but they are far more than electronic imitations. The artist’s deep dive took her across the ocean to a sensory cell lab that specializes in the cochlea; there she was able to record what she was hearing. (One of the main frustrations of tinnitus is that no unaffected person can hear these loud, relentless pitches.). These and other body sounds were filtered through “metal, glass, ceramic and ice instruments,” recreating the journeys of sound through material. The artist’s pièce de résistance is a ear canal-shaped gong. Instead of being defined by her illness, de la Mata helps to define the ailment.
The “Left Ear” comes first: a heartbeat, a high pitch, a whistle of wind. Is this what de la Mata hears? Are these the same tones that frightened John Cage in the anechoic chamber? How long might one be able to hear these sounds before experiencing destabilized balance, a disconnection of thought? The scraped disruptions of “KOH-klee-uh” serve as the emotional response. Life with tinnitus and vertigo is lopsided. The world is topsy-turvy. Bearings are hard to find and harder to navigate. As a single tone surges to the forefront, one recalls that often tinnitus is more than a sound intruding on other sounds; it occasionally takes over. Tuning forks seek to narrow the diagnosis: what key is imposed on me?
On the third track, de la Mata begins to sing, tones swirling around her. On a prior recording, she identifies herself as an “untrained singer.” The tinnitus is an “untrained performer” as well. But while tinnitus cannot react to notes, notes can respond to tinnitus, as counter-notes can produce harmony or in some cases even eradicate the offending sound, a theme later explored on “PINK noise.” On “Calibration God,” a specialist speaks of air in the cochlea, complementary tones and the vibrations of the artist’s original instrument, the violin. The very title “Earthworms” suggests earworms, although in this case the sounds are real, burrowed into the head instead of imagined and repeated. If one could, would one saw off the uninvited aural intrusion?
Oceans on Azimuth is a fascinating, uneasy listen. Traveling far beyond the initial experience of tinnitus, de la Mata delves into fevered percussion, electronic assault, whisper and word. By the closing piece, the high-pitched tones no longer seem like intrusions, but integrations. This is not what it sounds like to suffer from tinnitus. This is what it sounds like to tame the demon within. (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 