There’s a wonderful convergence of natural and electronic elements at play across Triptyque, a fittingly titled three-track EP from Zurich-based musicians Théophile Blanchon and Merlin Breij. The trumpet’s voice may not be uttering words, but it offers narrative amidst the textural soundscapes the two put together.
A triptych is a work of art divided into three connected sections, often used in religious paintings to depict an unfolding narrative. One famous example is The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch, which moves from paradise to chaos, much like Triptyque. The album follows a similar arc, beginning with the drifting, phantasmagorical ambitions of “Songe”. This piece touches on several disparate moods, with Blanchon’s trumpet resembling a lone warrior struggling through a whimsically obtuse landscape set by Breji’s guitar and effects, eventually pirouetting onto hope before settling into a distorted hypnopompic state through musical static. The deceptive beauty of “Mirage” seeks to skew the listener’s perception with its whirly propulsions of droning grinds and romantic trumpet pleas. The collection culminates in the fractured intensity of “Chaos,” where industrial hellscapes are painted using expressive instrumentals and horrifyingly produced but somehow ambient soundscapes.
Toying with both unrestrained experimental performance and theoretically rich material, Théophile Blanchon and Merlin Breij have assembled a deep collection of music and sounds steeped in narrative traditions and post-modern sensibilities.
★★★★