Artist: Daniel Vujanic
What sounds like a exciting waking up call for curious looking monsters, creatures and the appealingly bizarre had been actually the opening of Daniel Vujanic’s wonderfully calming album adventure named Prosopagnosia. When every character had woken up, the gates of both music and noises are unlocked, ready to let their inhabitants mingle together for the kind of play that would have made Karl Heinz Stockhausen proudly blush. It’s here that the squeeky sounds of a young owl can be spotted, clearly just as curious as the likes of you and me, to check out what this arrival is all about. With a satisfying knowledge, it’s clear that the music and the sounds are leaving the feathered spectator alone, maybe even using these extra eyes to stoke up a more prominent show than they would have done so without. They will form their world, they become all the elements of a natural self-explaining kind of biodome environment that feels severely alien & yet inviting as if it would have no problem for the owl (and us others willingly peeping in) to fit straight in.
The sounds and the music started to cooperate as if they had been overseen by a shaman with magical powers, one that can control overflying eagles with its mind and certainly would have no problem at all to do similar things when its about to deal with sounds collaborating. Things are created and made up as we wander with our eyes while expecting all the sounds in shaped and fascinating forms. An evening setting seems to be formed with this cast of individuals as the sole decirstion.
Things are coming across as green, wavy, fresh, warm but not hot, cool but not cold. The kind in which the creatures form some kind of illustrious nature that is pleasant and intriguing, one that keeps slowly waving around as a setting safe enough to get the little flying micro critters out and about. Letting them fly like freely miniature explorerers that the owl from earlier on could be inspired by, perhaps even intrigued enough to enjoy trying out a flight of its very own making.
Things become very relaxed and sophisticated after this, like the silence before the storm without any sign of a storm approaching. Kind regards seem to be in the air, just like bubbling watery stuff of freshness and all the nicely brewing forms of life coming from the mysterious blubber on the ground. Fragments of the imagination they might be, but as far as I’m concerned it’s the reality shaped by noises and sounds cooperating to form a new kind of harmonic world that clearly becomes a place that is much nicer and creative than anything on our little planet. Things are feeling vibrant, as if new life forms are created, evolving and growing every second. Slipping out from under our feet, or slippering quickly behind things that might resemble futuristic trees. This is the kind of alien world that feels tolerable for external viewers who don’t really belong there, like the young owl and the curious listening listeners like you and me. But yet alienating enough to make sure we keep our eyes and ears wide open as non of this you might find easily on earths hidden spots of beauty. Here things are seemingly not yet poisoned by human decay, stuff are not destroyed by woodchoppers blinded by capitalism. The air is not filled with poison and our minds not penetrated by advertisements of neon sights. It’s all still pure and untouched. Probably a good reason why I did not find the urge to step an actual foot forwards and the owl didn’t make a move for an exploring fly around to seek a snack.
As if the both of us fairly agree that this is only for our eyes and ears to see and hear, that us going in and disturbing the sceneries with any of our presence would be a reason to witness the end of it all. So I stand still, hopingly with you next on my side, in full agreement with the wise owl that in pure silence witnesses the buildup of this special world and all its life forms that gets to be born within it. And as we stood there a certain politeness came down. Something so elegant and recognizanly human that my thought was with the owl; would the owl see something else than me? Before me, out of seemingly thin air an angelic human form full of light and sparkles had mysteriously appeared, beautifully decorated with a coat of avant garde jazz, one that was so smooth and dreamy that I started to doubt everything that I had witnessed before. Was this God appearing in its finest newly created brand new shaped habitat? It was definitely not Kenny G which of course was a relief! But God? It would be the last one I would have sought in this brainmelting creation by Daniel Vujanic, but with the lack for any other, more reasonable explanation, I assumed that it would be best not to question anything. Instead I looked over this highly respected presence, stared at the owl as the owl stared at me back, making a slight nod with its head, making me feel that whatever had happened, whatever unexpected twist just appeared out of nowhere, the owl was looking unfazed as if it had knew all along… What an experience! https://escrec.bandcamp.com/album/prosopagnosia