Richard Chartier: decisive forms Richard Chartier: decisive forms (trente oiseaux - 2001) I bet Richard Chartier was the kid who used the white crayon... on white paper; his newest microscopic endeavor sometimes slips into states of apparent nonexistentialism... One 43-minute piece, decisive forms is not something you so much set down to listen to, as something you're actively (though (quietly) challenged to become involved with. If you've the tenacity (and a quality soundsystem in a peaceful space) you most likely will become involved. Low (in volume, and tone) rumbles seep into existence and drift further into and out of hearing range; sometimes laced with arrythmic pops these droning waves recede as much as they flow. If you "cheat" (like I did, turning it waaay up), every so often your woofers will really get the dust shaken off them as unexpected surges do occur. After some twenty minutes, one begins to hear something more layered, rippling... or is it a mirage for the ears? Periodic sub-bass gusts blurt out with tenuous accompaniment hanging like scraps of atom-thin gauze until a mechanized thrumming asserts its powers. Those more mechanical essences drift toward a fade, as heartbeat-like pips expire into oblivion. Listening to the microcosmic 8.5 abstractions of decisive forms is comparable to examining a white crayon/white paper masterpiece... it may intially seem as if there's "not much" there, but upon close observation, much artistry is revealed; it's up to you to discover it and decide what it is. Thanks to Richard Chartier for interviewing with us this month. This review posted November 4, 2001 AmbiEntrance © 2001-1997 by David J Opdyke (except CD cover art, rights retained by original owners).