The Little Worlds of Lia Kohl
The Chicago-based composer and sound artist Lia Kohl is a mastermind of little sounds. Though she plays the cello, an instrument as grand as any in its resonance, her compositions are delicate, sensitive sound-worlds. Her recently released second album the ceiling reposes brings together a fully realized vision of these sound-worlds, perfectly arranged and engineered, with every sound bringing something important to the greater whole.
Besides the cello, Kohl’s other primary instrument of choice is live radio, and her usage of the medium on the ceiling reposes is a testament to her compositional craft. Radio has long been incorporated into experimental music, with John Cage being notably drawn to its indeterminate nature, and its purpose is often as an instrument of chaos. A musician tuning the radio into random channels is, in a sense, leaving their work open to interruption from rambling evangelists, right wing cranks, pop songs, or hissing static. Any musician interested in posturing as a Serious Experimental Artist (those poor souls) may struggle to do so when their radio forces them to improvise alongside Justin Bieber or Papa Roach, and even when the radio is set to just one channel, it is still open to all sorts of interference from electromagnetic waves.
However, what makes Kohl’s work with radio so impressive is that it doesn’t feel like an instrument of chaos - at least no more so than the other instruments she utilizes. On the ceiling reposes, radio frequencies are perfectly interwoven into the greater sonic tapestry, which includes the aforementioned cello alongside synths, field recordings, and even kazoo. Tracks such as “when glass is there, and water,” which is ornamented with recordings of trembling glass, find purpose in their fragility. The music sounds as if any small movement could give way to complete and total change, but being open to such change is, in a sense, the heartbeat of experimental music. In this context, the radio is not an interruption but rather the gateway into swirling portals of sound.
When taken out of this context, what remains is a deeply warm and evocative album. On the first track “in a specific room” (whose title calls to mind the legendary experimental composer Alvin Lucier), the album immediately bursts into a vast technicolor soundscape, with percussive cello beating and dreamlike analogue synth sounds seesawing with one another. “become daily today” has a loping, post-minimalist feel that conjures images of rolling hills fading in and out of the car window on a long drive. At 33 minutes, the ceiling reposes is a short album with relatively short songs, but each song has a musical arc and can stand on its own as an individual piece. Though meticulously arranged, this is completely open, expansive music that welcomes all into its sound-world. To deny its invitation would be like staying inside on a beautiful spring day.
the ceiling reposes is available now on American Dreams Records; you can find it here