Album: Hamster Theatre's Carnival Detournement
Prog Rock Neo Classical Ensemble Creates a Grotesque Atmosphere
Feb 24, 2009
Hamster Theatre is an odd troupe of fantastic musicians formed in 1993 around Boulder, Colorado. Since its inception, founders and multi-instrumentalists Dave Willey and Jon Stubbs have made many personnel changes (most notably at the bassist position) and have always employed the use of many bizarre instruments and colorful sounds.
On Carnival Detournement, there are twelve musicians present over the span of sixteen tracks, some of which include drummer Mark Fuller, guitarist Mike Johnson and reedist Mark Harris of Thinking Plague. Yet, despite the multitude of instruments and intertwining vibrations, the group never ceases to retain its unmistakably unique voice.
Detournement
The term detournement refers to a satirical parody or a derailment of conventional elements used in art-recycling the old into something new and modern, more or less. Humor is the key. Carnival is capable of shifting gears quickly. Delicate moments of clarinet-laced tenderness are pounded into submission by thunderous blasts of distorted guitars and drums.
One can picture a young couple enjoying a cup of coffee on a quiet Parisian lane when a freak bolt of lightning knocks them out of their seats and sends them sprawling into the street. Hamster's influences range from somewhat obscure composers like Swedish accordionist Lars Hollmers to the Swiss RIO group, Nimal. But just like their influences, Willey and Stubbs' music is as exciting to hear the twentieth time as it is the first.
Memorable Moments
The circus/carnival theme is present throughout. Hamster's music can be dramatic, but it steers clear of effusive musical outbursts. There is a strange but pleasing sense of being off-kilter, as if you've taken the bright pink philter from the horse-faced girl and now your legs are starting to feel a little like jello as you wander under the big top. At times it feels as if something disastrous is creeping just around the next dark measure.
Jeanne-Marie has the eerie warp of a hall of mirrors. Its melody is sufficiently macabre without scaring off the listener and it conjures up thoughts of swollen reflections and grotesque funhouse creatures. But If Jeanne-Marie is a contorted introspective journey, Vang Vang will surely ice the palms of a coulrophobe.
The first half of this piece evokes images of a mob of clowns performing an odious dance. Sometime, perhaps after a menacing pirouette, Vang abruptly truncates and the ominous tread turns into a drunken fandango. A menagerie of acoustic and electric instruments swoon together weaving a strange and infectious web of sound that retains only a sliver of its former enormity.
Hamster Theater executes their music with the precision of a brilliant, but insane surgeon. They apply the anesthetic liberally and operate at leisure, laughing their heads off all the while.
Keep an eye on Hamster Theatre @
 |
