"Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost." - Canto I from Dante's Inferno.
The moniker vidnaObmana was chosen by legendary Belgian composer Dirk Serries as his musical persona because it means 'optical illusion'. Recognized internationally for his solo and collaborative recordings (spanning over thirty-four albums), vidnaObmana has commissioned works for Dutch National Radio, Zoo Antwerpen, Japanese TV documentary and MTV among many others, creating a style of atmospheric music that induces trance states in listeners who understand the language of sound. Release Entertainment is proud to present Tremor, the first vidnaObmana recording in what will be a trilogy of albums drawing inspiration from the classic Dante poem Inferno with the next chapters in line titled 'Spore' and 'Legacy'. Tremor showcases an unmatched sense for the bold and less spatial combination of harmonics, dynamics and experimentation. As vidnaObmana enters a new area of tribal-industrialism - a willful mix of harmony, dissonance and complex rhythmical passages - Tremor displays the surreal balance between modern electronica and ancestral acoustics.
A review from Ink19.com First in a planned trilogy of albums inspired by Dante's Inferno,
Tremor follows in the more rhythmic, active style of music that dark ambient pioneer vidnaObmana (Dirk Serries of Belgium) has favored in recent years. In addition to his usual synths, flutes, and electronic and organic percussion, Tremor also features electric guitar, Ebow, Fujaras, and something called a "dreampipe." Pervaded by a deep sense of disquiet and confusion, the album on the whole feels like the nightmarish journey of a traveler lost in a very dark place -- perhaps the "forest dark" that a lost Dante describes finding himself within in the first Canto of the Inferno.
Like all of vidnaObmana's work, Tremor is deeply compelling, but difficult to describe in words. Most of the pieces flow seamlessly into each other, so that it becomes nearly impossible to pick out where one ends and another begins. Take the creepy "Flesh Eater," for instance, with its dark synth atmospheres pierced by percussion that rattles like bones dancing and clacking against each other, and a truly monstrous electronic "reaper" sound like a toothed saw stripping flesh from limbs. Toward the end, a brighter synth pattern rises in the distance, like rays of moon and sunlight slanting in through a square hole in the roof of a charnel house. Then the bright synth moves to the foreground and begins to clash with the percussion and other synths, creating a sense of disorientation that guides us into the next track, "Mind Tunnel." Here, amid dark synths writhing in back, electronic percussion, and guitar feedback, there is a sense of space opening around you, and of movement down a wide passage alternately lit and shadowed. Percussive creature sounds scuttle off down side tunnels, while flute touches flit past like smoke-ghosts. Sometimes torches gutter on the walls, sometimes will-o-the-wisps bob past you in the darkness, as little rattlings like flying demons or gnashing teeth flap or chatter past unseen above your head. Toward the end plucked guitar notes slow your travel down the "Mind Tunnel," evoking "The Insane Brightness" that surrounds you in the next track. TremorAnother radiant slab of unnerving brilliance and abominable beauty from one of the masters of dark ambience. - Dave Aftandilian
A review from soniccuriosity/ This 73 minute CD is the first in a series of three releases planned by Vidna Obmana (aka Dirk Serries) inspired by Dante's "Inferno". This music blends electronic ambience with various ethnic percussives, overtone flutes, fujaras, dreampipe, and choral voices. Injected also are guitar and Ebow harmonics. Despite the contradictory presence of old world instruments with modern electronics, this music flows with such a crystalline perfection that there is never a hint of clash between the instrumentation. The wavering flutes and ethereal dreampipes generate a haunting atmosphere punctuated by softly pattering percussives that evoke distinctly primitive rapport. (That would be "primitive" as in living-in-caves, not "primitive" as in crude or awkward.) The illusion of squatting in an ancient cavern by flickering firelight is enhanced by the ghostly resonance of subtle electronics, tonalities that drift like animated smoke, connecting the other instruments with their intangible canvas. With this release, such eeriness is entirely appropriate, conjuring dark tunnels leading into the bowels of the netherworld. This journey becomes saturated with anticipation, a forewarning of dire consequences lying ahead in the audience's path. And, not unlike real life, such precognitive hints are never-ending, for there are always further turns and surprises to encounter as the voyage continues.