top of page
ANIMATAZINE

EARTH

MAX CASACCI

Max Casacci, the versatile founder of Subsonica, stands out as a producer, composer of music and lyrics, sound engineer, experimenter, and guitarist. He is renowned for his fervor in pushing the boundaries of music.

From a young age, he immersed himself in the underground new-wave scene of the early '80s, seamlessly alternating between band activities and studio productions. Casacci explored the "dub culture," contributing to productions, compositions, and live performances with Africa Unite, extending even to Jamaica. His production credits include collaborations with iconic figures such as Battiato, Mina, Antonella Ruggiero, Eugenio Finardi, and work with experimental artists like Lorenzo Senni (Warp Records).

In 2011, Casacci embarked on a sonic journey with his work at the Venice Biennale titled Glasstress, which translated the instruments and sounds of a Murano glass furnace into a unique musical experience. Fast forward to 2017, where the sounds and noises of Turin harmonized with instruments played by some of the most prominent jazz musicians, including Enrico Rava, Gianluca Petrella, Furio Di Castri, and Emanuele Cisi.

His Earthphonia project (2020) took a deep dive into capturing the natural sounds of the Earth, transforming them into distinctive melodies and rhythms. Collaborating with notable figures in the scientific and environmental realms, such as Stefano Mancuso and artist Michelangelo Pistoletto, Casacci was commissioned to create Watermemories, a sonic masterpiece incorporating the sounds of the Cervo River.

Earthphonia, more than an album, is a journey where the composer relinquishes control, allowing notes to organically flow from natural environments. This unique approach flips the conventional relationship between man and music, propelling the exploration of a new equilibrium between humanity and nature.

Furthermore, Earthphonia extends beyond music, evolving into a book co-authored with geologist Mario Tozzi, promoting environmental awareness through the medium of sonic art.

In November 2022, Casacci released Urban Groovescapes - Earthphonia 2, a dance album crafted exclusively from urban sounds.

WHAT DOES WONDER REPRESENT FOR YOU TODAY? HOW HAS IT GUIDED YOU IN THE CREATIVE PROCESS OF EARTHPHONIA, AND WHY DO YOU CONNECT IT TO AN IDEA OF ACTION?

pallottola.png

The wonderment that runs as a subtle thread throughout Earthphonia's entire body of work is rooted in the awe-inspiring process of transforming the noises and sonic landscapes of nature into melodic tapestries, orchestrations, and rhythms.

This sense of wonder extends to the narrative woven within the pages of the Earthphonia book, as well as during performances and concerts that unveil the intricate marvels tied to the mechanisms of nature.

These wonders, in turn, translate into actionable initiatives, aiming to forge an empathetic connection between us and the ecosystems in need of protection.

Environmental narratives often carry legitimate and profound concerns, yet there's a risk of these concerns spiraling into alarmism, potentially fostering a sense of closure and detachment.

To address this, both Mario Tozzi and I have deliberately embraced an approach grounded in the realms of wonder and storytelling.

Our objective is to cultivate an approach that raises awareness about the potential for positive change and constructive action towards the environment.

Additionally, we've noted how the experience of wonder can be balsamic, alleviating the burdens, even the negative ones, that we harbor towards the environment and the planet itself.

From the moment we encounter the astounding revelations tied to the adaptive intelligence of the plant world—far surpassing our own; to hearing about the sophisticated mechanisms within bee societies; or discovering that the ocean—the expansive body of water that blankets much of our planet's surface and could rightfully be called Planet Water—is responsible for half of the oxygen we breathe globally, all of this allows us to perceive ourselves as somewhat diminished. Paradoxically, it induces a soothing sensation, almost a feeling of peace.

This act of acknowledging our place in the grandeur of nature, even in our destructive capacities (often perceiving ourselves as gods of destruction, although far from omnipotent), prompts a realization that we can only jeopardize our own living conditions on this planet.

Nature, however, possesses the resilience to outlast us in numerous forms and in truly remarkable ways.

This realization, in some way, instills a sense of peace and equilibrium.

As mentioned earlier, Earthphonia's work is designed to foster empathetic closeness and position us as positive protagonists capable of individual actions within the necessary transformations for constructive engagement with the environment.

IN THE TRACKS OF EARTHPHONIA, THE NATURAL SOUNDS OF THE EARTH UNDERGO TECHNOLOGICAL TRANSFORMATION. WHAT SONIC DISCOVERIES STRUCK YOU BEFORE, DURING, AND AFTER THE TECHNOLOGICAL INTERVENTION?

The exploration of Earthphonia's tracks has been an ongoing journey.

Since 2011, my focus has been on transforming natural sounds and sonic landscapes into music.

This was evident at the Venice Biennale, where I turned a glass furnace into a rhythmic instrument for a sound installation in a contemporary art exhibit, incorporating various instruments.

Later, I turned my attention to the urban environment, crafting rhythms that instinctively translated the urban soundscape into music, even without traditional instruments.

With Earthphonia's sounds, each track brought about unique revelations.

Some sounds were captured firsthand, while others were received during the lockdown, like those for Oceanbreath, a symphony of ocean sounds and one of my initial projects.

Interestingly, this track was developed using a sound package sent by Worldrise, a nonprofit dedicated to marine conservation.

It included a rich sound archive spanning decades, featuring diverse sounds from the expansive ocean.

Discovering, for instance, that 18 fish species could harmonize in song was a revelation even before the creative process began.

Moreover, the realization of how the fish chorus in Oceanbreath could be shaped into a kind of orchestral texture unfolded as a delightful surprise during the creative journey.

There wasn't one track more surprising than the others, as I continuously learned new techniques for transforming noise into music, always striving to stay true to the original sonic environment.

A particularly pleasing discovery occurred while translating the sounds of the Po Delta into music.

Conceptualized as the "music of the air," it primarily comprises bird sounds, thunder, and wind.

In an effort to capture the essence of the Delta, I aimed for a subtle reference to the Delta Blues, despite the geographic distinction.

Working on the call of the Spoonbill bird, a bluesy phrasing emerged organically through a simple cut, without any manipulation.

This unexpected connection between intention and outcome highlighted the unique process of working with nature's sounds.

At the heart of this exploration lies a mechanism distinct from conventional musical composition, where one typically engages with familiar instruments in a known terrain, occasionally seeking serendipitous incidents that spark creativity.

In contrast, with the sounds of nature, the process is reversed: taking a step back, allowing nature to express itself, and figuring out how to guide the creative implementation based on these encounters.

This approach mirrors the authentic proportions in the relationship between man and nature.

Ultimately, the most surprising aspect was the ability to approach music and composition with conventional elements completely upended.

Stepping back revealed the possibility of uncovering one's most authentic musicality.

DO YOU THINK THAT THE EXPLORATIONS OF NATURAL SOUNDS IN EARTHPHONIA HAVE ALTERED YOUR MUSICAL EAR? WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT PERCEPTION OF THE BOUNDARIES AND TRANSITIONS BETWEEN THE NATURAL SOUND WORLD AND THE HIGHLY ANTHROPIZED URBAN ENVIRONMENT?

The work on natural ecosystems has significantly sharpened my ear: I can now approach noises, like those from roadwork, perceiving them as a sort of almost symphonic musical texture.

I am passionate about things that might make others cover their ears: it's a distortion that undoubtedly stayed with me from this intense experience with the sound and noise of nature.

Regrettably, the process of anthropization in natural spaces coincides with the disappearance of an entire series of life forms: plant and animal life that we may not have even had time to classify, vanishing along with a very important heritage.

Consider David Monacchi, a crucial musician and scholar of natural sounds, whose action involves recording the sounds of pristine forests, revealing the entire sonic architecture of sounds that respond to biological needs and fit into a perfect natural score.

He is very attentive to real-time testimony of sounds that exist and are disappearing.

His approach differs greatly from mine, but the realization that in the loss of biodiversity, we also have to note a loss of acoustic, sonic, and musical biodiversity, has prompted deep reflection.

In the work succeeding Earthphonia, Urban Groovescapes (Earthphonia II), I came to realize that even within this urban context, there are sounds that, with the transition of technological eras, are disappearing.

These are sounds that actually represent a bit of our own identity, sounds with which we were born.

Perhaps we have always classified them as disturbances, but when they are reintroduced in a different form, they reveal all their warmth, all the capacity for intimate contact with something that has been in our ears forever.

EARTHPHONIA IS ALSO A BEAUTIFUL DIALOGUE BOOK WRITTEN IN COLLABORATION WITH GEOLOGIST MARIO TOZZI. HOW DID THE IDEA OF UNITING MUSICAL CREATION AND WRITING COME ABOUT?

The collaboration with Mario Tozzi emerged through a shared friendship while I was already immersed in the exploration of various soundscapes.

My initial foray into translating the sounds of nature took place during a holiday in Gozo, alongside my friend Luca Saini, a director and music therapist.

On this island, I caught wind of the existence of stones capable of emitting sounds, stones that held significance in ancient rituals. Intrigued, Luca and I embarked on a quest to find them, and eventually, we succeeded.

Perched on a cliff overlooking the sea, we began striking these stones with whatever objects we found on the ground.

When I later aligned the recording files of these stone sounds in the evening, I discovered that they naturally resonated with each other, producing harmonic intervals as if forming an ancient orchestra awaiting technological revelation.

This playful experiment gradually evolved into something slightly more serious, though it still retained an element of playfulness.

We didn't merely record the sounds of the stones; Luca, armed with his camera, created a video that we subsequently shared on YouTube.

Thus, without a specific agenda, at least at that time, the composition titled Ta' Cenc was born, named after the location where these stones are found on Gozo.

This piece would later capture the attention of an artist, none other than Michelangelo Pistoletto, who approached me with a request to translate the sounds of the river in his hometown of Biella into music for a sound installation within the City of Art...

Instinctively and perhaps somewhat audaciously, I assured Pistoletto that I could transform the river into music, despite not possessing the requisite skills.

Thus began my adventure with the sounds of nature.

I was compelled to learn how to translate nature into music because the stones of Ta' Cenc behaved like musical instruments, albeit in an entirely unexpected manner, while the river continued to flow naturally.

Consequently, I had to decipher methods to extract melodic elements, such as placing instruments underwater and capturing notes from droplets, etc.

And so, Watermemories came into existence.

Subsequently, I found myself engaged with various organizations, such as the Worldrise association mentioned earlier concerning oceans or the Po Regional Authority regarding the music of the Delta.

I narrate these experiences in detail in the book Earthphonia – Voices of the Earth, which serves as a chronicle of the journey through diverse encounters that gave rise to various compositions.

Amidst the third and fourth composition, during the lockdown, I began contemplating the possibility of structuring this work into an album, even though it still felt a tad presumptuous.

In reality, this would mark my inaugural album, and after dedicating at least three months to each track, understanding the true magnitude of my endeavor remained a challenge.

Enter Mario Tozzi at this juncture, emanating an incredible force of encouragement.

Upon listening to these compositions, he exclaimed, "This is a powerful instrument, you're creating remarkable pieces that connect with nature; therefore, you must persist!"

This influential figure injected a potent blend of encouragement and intimidation, urging me not to conclude the musical narrative of nature without considering the sound of volcanoes, the rhythmic heartbeat of the earth.

He handed me recordings of a Stromboli eruption, captured after a documentary shoot, instructing me, "From this sound, you must extract the rhythm of the earth!"

Given my musical background, there was little room for compromise when it came to rhythm.

I transformed the Stromboli sounds into a primal, lava-infused rave, an eruptive event from billions of years ago presented in the guise of an almost electronic cadence, a quasi-techno piece conveying the profound rhythm of the earth.

The relationship between Tozzi and me evolved from encouragement to collaboration.

The concept emerged to not only utilize all the soundtracks to create a piece but also append a narrative that could complement the experience.

Hence, the idea of the Earthphonia album-book was conceived, eventually published by Carlo Petrini, another figure who provided unwavering support, making his Slow Food publishing house available.

In the pages of Earthphonia, I narrate how I turned ecosystems into music by engaging in dialogue with individuals who accompanied me, such as Stefano Mancuso, Michelangelo Pistoletto, Mariasole Bianco, etc., while Mario Tozzi gives voice to the same ecosystems in the first person.

This unforeseen journey culminated in a sort of concert and show, where Mario Tozzi and I frequently shared the stage, alternating between narration and music, occasionally intertwining the two.

From the standpoint of the message we sought to convey to the audience, this approach proved highly effective.

Scientific data, when channeled through an emotional conduit, has a greater potential to resonate with individuals observing the unfolding performance.

IS JOHN CAGE'S EXPLORATION, INTIMATELY CONNECTED TO NATURE THROUGH HIS PASSION FOR THE FUNGAL UNIVERSE, EXPRESSING THE LISTENING TO THE WORLD THROUGH MUSICAL SILENCE IN HIS COMPOSITION 4'33", AMONG YOUR INSPIRATIONS?

I was familiar with John Cage in terms of general musical culture; specifically, I became enthralled with a vinyl record in my father's collection titled Concert for Percussions.

However, I must admit that I had superficially, perhaps hastily, relegated him to the category of provocateurs, the subversives of music who come and produce a sort of small upheaval, a very important revolution in contemporary music.

It was actually Ezio Bosso, a dear friend who passed away prematurely, who prompted me to reflect on how John Cage was not a destroyer but, on the contrary, deeply connected and a passionate lover of life and phenomenology, not just musical.

He was in a constant search for harmony with a wonder that his music continually revealed.

For instance, having children vocalize on stage demonstrated that it was music; it wasn't merely a provocation – although there was undoubtedly something provocative about it – but rather a celebration of life itself.

One particular reflection by John Cage struck me when he stated that no two bottles of Coca-Cola are the same.

In other words, each one will be seen from a different angle, catching a different play of light depending on the place, the time, the moment.

Therefore, the human experience at any given moment is a unique one that should be lived and explored with the intensity it deserves.

In my opinion, this is the great lesson from John Cage: to keep one's ears open to sound, whether it be from nature or elsewhere, and to offer it with a whole narrative construction in an attempt to leave a positive mark that lingers with the listener.

This is precisely what I have done in the recent chapter of Earthphonia, Urban Groovescapes, where the attempt to translate the sound of urban space into something danceable aims to reveal the idea that cities, to be transformed, must first be imagined differently.

All of this is deeply connected to the human experience, even before the musical one, that John Cage so effectively conveys.

pallottola.png

LINKOGRAPHY

pallottola.png
bottom of page