Press Clipping
02/14/2014
Article
a hypnotic journey across a mystical desert

Artist: Yom
Title: The Silence of the Exodus
Label: Buda Musique
Genre: Eastern European/Klezmer/Sufi music

Recommended by Sohrab Saadat Ladjevardi

The French virtuoso clarinettist Yom takes you on a journey through the history of the Jewish exodus. The Silence of the Exodus tells the story of their departure from Egypt to begin long years of wandering through the Sinai Desert… This is a hypnotic journey across a mystical desert, one where oriental cellos converse with Iranian percussion, the double bass and the clarinet.

These silences full of uproar are featured in Yom’s partition, which gives pride of place to minimalist influences and Eastern playing modes. He thus primarily uses a clarinet in G (the Turkish clarinet), whose sound is lower and warmer. He also makes room for his partners to improvise. The elder of his musical companions is the contemporary jazz double-bass player Claude Tchamitchian (Dave Liebman, Andy Emler etc.), a peerless improviser whose lyricism has roots in his Armenian origins. Farid D. for his part, has become a master in the art of playing Eastern music on cello, sometimes appropriating it as an oud or percussion, even mastering quarter tones. As for Bijan Chemirani, the virtuoso heir of a line of Iranian percussionists, he has well established his daf, bendir and zarb in present-day music. With a double culture, one foot in the tradition and the other in erudite Western music, these musicians intertwine Eastern, Mid-Eastern, Maghreb, Jewish and Armenian music and sensibilities.

This album has remained faithful to the spirit of the stage performance: totally acoustic (mixing included), recorded in the conditions of a live show with the musicians in semi-circle, without headphones. No re-recording, hardly any reverb, minimal editing, a mastering that respects the same dynamics, all contribute to a pure, naturalistic sound which makes do with the creaking of floor and chairs, the noise of the clarinet keys, the rustle of page turning –naked humanity faced with itself and its own bareness.