Are you ready to embark on a sonic adventure? Travelogue [Thailand] is the third in an ongoing series from the Touch imprint, in which two artists meet in a designated location and record an audio diary of their experience: first Nepal, then Bali and now Thailand.
Over the course of nine days, CM von Hausswolff & Chandra Shukla visited multiple locations in Chaing Mai, from hotels to museums to temples, ending their journey in the Lanna Kingdom (Kingdom of a million rice fields) recording rivers, forests, monasteries and tribes. Sculpting all of these sonic treasures into four distinct pieces, the artists now present a portrait of Thailand in all its richness: miraculous, mysterious and multi-layered.
“Nók Bpàa” eases the listener into the album with the overlapping sounds of the forest, traffic and a swiftly rising drone. A sudden rush – a motor? – interrupts the placidity. The artists admit that their diaries are not always calm, but contain “noise laden cacophony.” This uncertainty keeps the listener alert for the next sonic shift or juxtaposition: temple bells and monkeys, machinery and macaws. In this dense tapestry, alluring sounds emerge from the fog, only to be re-subsumed.
In contrast, “Naga” leaps out of the speakers with rushing water and ceremonial song. One would have preferred a bit more rounding off at the start, but the piece soon becomes a study of dynamic contrast, falling into silence before introducing ripple, chirp and drone. The human element is far more apparent, children chattering, adults conversing, bells ringing, all folded into a backdrop of water and reverberation.
Is this the real Thailand, or the sonic equivalent of “everything, everywhere, all at once?” The answer is somewhere in-between, as the album exudes a (pleasant) feeling of sensory overload. “Muaythai Changmai” begins with what sounds like a street festival, an expression of exuberance. Soon one encounters the sounds of the marketplace: loudspeaker announcements and a raucous crowd milling around. The introduction of English is startling, but momentary. A band begins to play, interrupted by another musician whose instrument sounds like bagpipes. Percussion cuts through the noise, then stops as the previous sound re-emerges. This is cacophony. Listening is like moving through the streets, drinking it all in.
Balance is temporarily restored by the chants that begin “Wai Phra Kao Wat,” as spirituality is integral to any study of Thailand; for a few minutes, the album sounds like its cover. The temple gongs are no longer in the background, but in the fore. This piece deepens one’s appreciation of all that has come before, and its position as the closing track is wise. After all of the travels and the whirlwind of experiences, it is time to slow down and reflect. The forest sounds return, and the sense of peace is restored. (Richard Allen)