|Taylor Deupree (b. 1971) is a sound artist, graphic designer, and photographer residing in Brooklyn, New York. On January 1st, 1997, he founded 12k, music label that focuses on digital minimalism and contemporary forms. In 12k’s 6 years of existance it has released 27 CDs and become one of the most respected experimental electronic labels in the world. In September 2000, Deupree and collaborator Richard Chartier launched LINE, a sublabel of 12k that explores conceptual, ultra-minimalist digital sound and the relationship between sound, silence and the art of listening. LINE is a carefully balanced counterpoint to the rhythmic, granular textures of 12k. In January 2002 (as a celebration of 12k’s fifth anniversary) Deupree launched term., an online series of MP3 files from artists around the globe. While 12k’s emphasis lies not only in sound but also on design and presentation, term.’s function is the exact opposite: existing entirely in the digital domain with no tangible object or package, term. is the representation of pure data and imageless sound information. In September, 2003, Deupree started a 3rd label called Happy to release what he terms as “unconventional japanese pop.” Happy was born from Deupree’s interest in Japanese pop music and the fact that it is quite unknown outside of Japan. He hopes to change that with Happy.|
Deupree also records for a number of other labels including Spekk (Japan), Ritornell/Mille Plateaux, Raster-Noton (Germany), Sub Rosa (Belgium), BineMusic (Germany), Fällt (Ireland), and Audio.NL (Netherlands). In addition, over the past 11 years he has worked with Instinct Records, Caipirinha Music, Plastic City (USA), Disko B (Germany), and Dum (Finland), among others. In January 1999, Deupree currated a compilation for New York’s Caipirinha Music label that he called “Microscopic Sound.” This release was among the first to gather together artists of this style and helped put a name to a rising genre of electronic music. Deupree has received much critical acclaim and recognition for his past musical projects including the techno and ambient sounds of Prototype 909, SETI, Human Mesh Dance, and Futique (1992-1996) and has many recording accomplishments and a substantial discography. His design work has appeared on dozens of record labels around the world and published in a number of design books in Japan and the UK.
For the past 6 years Deupree has focused his energy on 12k, solo productions under his own name, networking with a family of like-minded sound artists, and the furthering of his sound experiments that take influences from his passion for architecture, photography, and interior design.
Outside of his pursuit of sound and design, Taylor plays ice hockey.
Taylor Deupree - Northern (2006)
|Цитата: (Derek Miller © Stylus Magazine)|
|Ambient music is a stillness that scatters thought. The focus created becomes too intense, insular, monomaniacal. Waxy, flickering images in bric-a-brac. It calls on the subliminal, pulling up flashes of frame and sunlight, those myriad daily movements that slip between the cracks until night fractures a locked box and tosses it all together again, parts misaligned and disconnected now in symphony and clearer for their hellshot placement. Longevity and repetition, grown into a shout by subtle growth, become dynamic translations of sight. |
Perhaps, as such, it’s no surprise that Taylor Deupree has stayed atop the microsound industry for so long. Besides such landmark solo releases as Stil and the slight recess of January; and collaborations in the past two years with Christopher Willits, Kenneth Kirschner and experimental Japanese trio Eisi, Deupree remains a steady presence in the art scene surrounding post-techno as a graphic designer and visual creator. His interests in the trappings of image and presentation have perhaps never been as prominent in his music as in Northern, which was recorded in upstate New York after leaving his Brooklyn home. The serene, severe composure of this more isolated setting can be heard in each of the album’s six frigid compositions. In fact, the album’s cover is the perfect representation of the music hid therein: stern but open, a border of white surrounding snow-dusted, winter-dead trees, one so vague and eternal it’s possible to read almost any desired subtext. It’s that edge of frame, that willingness to allow for any and all interpretation while hinting at one particular moment, that makes Northern, along with similar releases by Chihei Hatakeyama, Mountains, and Marsen Jules this year, one of 2006’s must-hear ambient releases.
For the most part, Deupree relies on the same elements that have made his last few solo releases so exemplary. He spreads electric piano tones over still, revolving rings of sine wave and static pulp; as the electronic elements gain hold, his fleshy acoustics split the wire, crossed-over in texture as a melodica holds the horizon Deupree’s backlog of field recordings. Reminiscent, for example, of much of the textural transition between organics and electronics on Stil, opener “Everything’s Gone Grey” combines glowing sine waves with fractured chimes and slow gulfs of static, augmenting its gentle release with increasingly daybreak tones. The title track is likewise an exercise in extended restraint, pushing looped electric piano into gentle folds of noise until they both ascend into a powdery froth.
In the album’s second half, Deupree references Northern’s patient rise by tightening its loops and reintroducing a hush of pace. “Haze It May Be” is one of his most dizzying compositions yet, building a jagged tone into a choral outreach that uses its paucity of sound and noise to elevate the gurgling guitar loop Mountains would be proud of. Closer “November,” however, at first uses its prominent electric piano and melodica to disperse the album’s parlor-moon mood, starting all foul and Augustus Pablo before sheathing that riverside taunt with static and subtle reverb. But of course it dissolves—pulse silences instrument and hypnotism ensues. With Deupree, it has to. That’s his electronic memory bank of post-techno; slice up the odd slabs of today and reassemble them, out of place and sequence; allow them the odd genius of perpetuity, of repetitive, bleary-eyed recall.