Before migrating across the ECM continent, Stephan Micus outfitted some of his most formative expeditions in the territories of the JAPO sub-label. On these albums one hears Micus at his most elemental, turning every gesture into inter-spatial awareness. The album’s duration of 36 minutes only serves to deepen its intimacy as a space in which the listener might catch a cushion of meditation in a world of splinters. Micus’s practice has always been to render the stem before the flower, and in the album’s title track a table harp provides that very illustrative function. Its dulcimer-like heart beats a rhythm at once ancient and fresh, curling as the scriptural page, its edges darkened from constant contact with the hands. Those same hands cradle a method of speech so musical that its melody is discernible only in the freedom of solitude.
An ethereal, primordial Experience. Implosions is a state of consciousness that wraps you in the arms of swirling air, transports you to ethnic lands, where spices catch your pallet. Where stories are swapped and legends of old are discovered again. Stephan Micus takes you down the river Ganges as he plays from the sitar, you are in a languished state of being. His ethnic chants suffocate you until you are spirit removed from flesh. The mist begins to fall and as the fog rolls in you are swept into the remotest parts of the world, where things thought to have been lost or abandoned have been uncovered. Caravans from the east are swept into a mirage in the horizon, while strange red stone pillars stab at the sky. Then you come across the foothills of machu picchu, incensed by its abandonment you climb to the summit there an elder of a race long since vanished gives you knowledge of the new world. You stumble back into reality, Unable to return.
The East German-born Stephan Genz, still in his mid-twenties, brings an engaging voice and glowing dramatic sense to this desirable Beethoven collection. Some of the ballad-like songs undoubtedly suit his rich, warm, darkish timbres especially well (‘Klage’ – ‘Lament’, or the mournful ‘Vom Tode’); yet he relishes, too, the lively patter of ‘Neue Liebe, neues Leben’, which, with Vignoles’s lively accompaniment, takes instant flight. The phrasing is nicely sustained, though Genz’s rather self-conscious, earnest delivery can be fractionally unsteady (chiefly in the descent to cadences, a slight overweighting of second syllables, the arching up towards higher notes, and scattered patches of chromatic detail). Goethe’s ‘Es war einmal ein König’ and Gellert’s ‘Busslied’ both hint at the wider emotional range to which this young singer can aspire. His contrast between the end of Goethe’s poignantly pleading ‘Wonne der Wehmut’ and the lightly alert ‘Sehnsucht’ could not be more charming.