– Barış Yarsel, Fütüristika!
Countries are divided from one another by frontiers. Crossing a frontier is quite an emotive thing to do: an imaginary limit, made material by a wooden barrier which as it happens is never really on the line it purports to represent, but a few dozen or hundreds of metres this side or that of it, is enough to change everything, even the landscape. It’s the same air, the same earth, but the road is no longer quite the same, the writing on the road signs changes, the baker’s shops no longer look altogether like the thing we were calling a baker’s shop just a short while earlier, the loaves are no longer the same shape, there are no longer the same cigarette packets lying around on the ground.
Frontiers are lines. Millions of men are dead because of these lines.
– Georges Perec, [The Country] Frontiers, Species of Spaces and Other Pieces
Anıl Eraslan – CH
Text by Mutlu Yetkin
The singular adjective to define the New Age of Terror, or the Terror of the New Age, is, most probably, pornographic. Given its daring to commit acts of abject under unadulterated sunlight; its caustic directness that tears away the mystic aura of the likes of Abu Nidal, The Jackal or McVeigh; its almost open source horizontality that resembles, on some far and weird edge of abstraction, Borges’ The Lottery in Babylon; this novel modus of horror could not even be conceived in the 70s and the 80s and could not be translated into reality in the 90s.
Anıl Eraslan’s CH, dedicated to Charlie Hebdo massacre has a running time of 18:07. Its sleeve bears an unreserved epithet: harsh noise, right next to a meditation by Perec on the nature of borders. The interiors reveal a certain fact: Noise will never fit to tailor a threnody: for Eraslan’s sonic grammar owes almost nothing to Mimaroğlu/Hubbard’s ritual-elegiacs but much, to a not so sartorial, not so lab-geeky musique concrete as well as to Bill Bennett’s Whitehouse, MK9’s black-ops sonics and the grammatical excesses of Power Electronics. Its layering is purposefully nauseating: the sonic maelstroms, spins, stutters, uncannily conversational, parade in linear fashion as if cataloguing the tumours that simmer right beneath the skin. CH’s gradual building of tension, its use of space and relative diversity of its palette point at Eraslan’s compositional intelligence – an intelligence that is comfortable in mimicking a schizoid language. For this very reason, this is a Burroughs’ian, or at best, Lautreamont’ian herald: the decline of the 21st century will see its beastly poetry.
Anıl Eraslan – CH
born in 1981. he began playing cello and piano in Ankara then he went to France and studied classical, jazz and contemporary music at Strasbourg Conservatory. besides, he’s a free-improviser and plays also traditional turkish music in many projects. music has no strict borders between the genres. artist in residency at Illiade in Illkirch for three years (2012-2015)