As Sonic Pieces writes, “the subject of time is an ambitious one,” tackled by Deaf Center on Through Time and its December companion piece, “A Second.” Instrumental music lends itself well to the subject, as it has the capacity to warp, suspend or extend one’s experience of time. The spacious compositions of Otto A Totland and Erik K Skodvin create room for such temporal disruptions, as one may sink into these pieces as one does into a comfortable couch.
One would have to count notes in order to confirm that Totland’s piano “travels in less frequent rhythms than before,” yet this does seem to be the case. The notes decorate the drones without taking over, like markers of time removed from the clock. While one doesn’t need more notes, one cannot think of the set with less; they are placed like rocks in a Zen garden, often appearing in clusters, as they do in the two-part title track. At other times, they deliver an early fragment of melody before evaporating into the aether. Consider for example the first note of “Through Time (Part Two),” a declaration subsumed by the entrance of Skodvin’s haunted strings, in the same manner as one may recall the beginnings of events but lose track of the middle. Only the clearest transitions, such as an ivory hastening in the third minute and a slowdown in the fourth, register on the temporal map. The strings make a stealthy Irish exit before making an Irish return, recalling Svarte Greiner.
As “I Myst” introduces a flickering pulse, one cannot help but notice that the album has picked up density and depth, imitating the weight of reflection. While the ambient pads move in molasses, the mind is fooled by the 160bpm pace, implying two people experiencing the same flow of time differently; for one, time is flying, for another it is crawling, reconciling in the final seconds.
Through Time has a definitive closing piece, as well as an alternate ending. The album’s longest piece, “Further,” includes violin and viola from Simon Goff, undulating in gentle waves. The mind is free to wander far from calendars and clocks. When Totland enters, the set comes full circle; and when the album ends (unless one plays it on a loop), one is forced back into temporal engagement. But there’s also a second piece, literally “A Second,” released just before the new year, when time is everybody’s minds. This outtake was initially meant to be the album closer, and we believe it still works well in that position, as it places Totland’s piano at the center, restoring the tone of “Open Upon.” The slow recession of sound makes a perfect coda.
And now, a final note on color. The Bandcamp image above is insufficient to convey the color of the physical release, which we’re calling “the indigo one.” (Long-time readers will remember our nicknaming of every Sonic Pieces release.) Through Time is definitely not a black album, but indigo seems well-matched to the music, suggesting twilight blue, the transition between day and night, a liminal period which is both connected to time and timeless, much like the music on this album. (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 