Adventurous chamber rock from very impressive Chilean outfit, Asceta.

Progressive music. An eclectic and worldwide spectrum of artists and styles. It was a particular pleasure to be contacted recently by Rodrigo Maccioni, founder of Asceta, an ensemble of very talented musicians from Chile, whose self-titled debut album was released last year to favourable reviews.

They fall within the Rock in Opposition movement, which was initiated way back in the late 1970’s by Henry Cow who invited a likeminded bunch to a festival to voice their opposition to the established music industry, somewhat ironically given the “prog is boring” attitude of the music press at the time, whereas not a great deal separated them from much of the New Wave music which was dominant and beloved by journos. I have for a long time been reluctant to pigeonhole artists into restrictive categories, so let us simply state that RIO didn’t start off as a specific sub-genre of music but developed into a way of doing Avant Garde music and Asceta with their brand of complex chamber rock clearly fall within that umbrella.

Maccioni composed, arranged, and produced this sophomore effort, and he plays electric guitar, concert wooden flute, and synthesizer. For this album, he is joined by Cristián Peralta on cello, Alfonso Vergara on clarinet and bass clarinet, Arianne Guerra playing violin, Alejandro Vera on Bassoon, Eduardo Rubio electric bass and upright bass, and a contender for this website’s “find of the year”, Leonardo Saavedra on drums and percussion. There are a couple of guest musicians, namely Oscar Pizarro on piano who played on the debut, and Pascal Montenegro who plays oboe and English horn.

There are seven tracks on the album without any words at all, so, as ever with such instrumental works, the trick is in conveying a story through the music. There is a concept here, that being about the ups and downs of Erebus, an enigmatic sorcerer getting into the dreams of the Asceta, who steals snippets of dreamlike music trying to transform suffering into harmony with his alchemy. I have provided for readers of the review an English translation of the song titles alongside a few thoughts about this thoroughly enjoyable work.

We begin with Preludio, or Prelude. It is more than six minutes long, so a lengthy introduction to proceedings, but immediately you are presented with a sense of the dramatic, even in the quieter sections. Sorcerers were unique individuals, and the music here presents Erebus in turns of moods. For those fans of woodwind in their rock music, you are in for a treat on this and throughout.

The second track is Pseudo-fonía del tormento (Pseudo-phonia of suffering). The violin which introduces us is beautifully mournful, as are the wood instruments which join it. The percussion is very intricate and provides a very clever background to the ascetic suffering, and a rolling piano introduces the main segment which is more intense. Some of the guitar work is gorgeous, cleverly understated and you realise here that this is a true collective of musicians prepared to allow one another the space to play their part, something which is extremely difficult to achieve when you have rock instruments alongside classical ones. As the track develops, it is hypnotic, drawing you into another world. It is embedded below.

Concilio de Brujas (Council of Witches) follows. I have nearly finished, and will shortly publish a review of, Witchfinders, a fascinating history of the seventeenth century witchfinders and their wretched victims in Eastern England. Belief in such creatures, influenced and taken over by Satan with his imps, was widespread and led to some shocking abuses, and no little incredulity on the part of modern humankind that we could once be capable of such beliefs and treatment of (mainly) women. This is a short piece, and the cello which introduces us is serious before the chamber begin the task of the council discussing their plans and how to enact them. Much of it is playful in a secret cove fashion, because, of course, to be found out meant certain death. There is a beautiful duet between piano and woodwind at the close.

There is a two-part piece up next, namely El hereje y el devoto (The heretic and the devout) and Profanos y arcanos (Laymen and arcana), arcana being something unknown except only to initiates. This is the longest piece of music on the album, weighing in at over twelve minutes. The beginning is gorgeous, as if describing the mutual fear of the opposites. As it develops, the upbeat music interacts with quieter woodwind and some solo piano, the playful heretic and the seriously devout, all the while the percussion beating an impressive path. As the first movement comes to an end, electric guitar, violin, cello and woods come together as if to display a conversation between the opposing sides, but it is far lighter than one might imagine. The second movement begins with a lovely piano solo followed by the strings particularly mournful, and there is a very effective harpsichord effect created by Maccioni on his keys – the ensemble progress to create a mysterious groove, the impenetrable rites undertaken only by initiates, Vera especially creating some great noises on his bassoon, and strings being plucked as opposed to bowed as the mystery deepens. This is a fine piece of music, never anything less than fascinating.

En lo alto y en el abismo (At the top and into the abyss) opens with a sense of anticipation demonstrated by the strings and woodwind before the full collective enters. Again, the percussion work is outstanding. There is a very deep and tuneful bass groove enacted. As we move into the mid-section, matters become more restrained and thoughtful before a solo piano and some screeching violin bring us into the abyss, and this is a dark section, and very well executed, all the while underscored by the genius of Saavedra on drums & percussion. The dark mood does not last, and the track expands as it closes.

The penultimate track is Por sobre mi cadáver (Over my dead body), a title which screams resistance at us, and the music gives us this sense of telling the world that what the subject wants, he gets, with staccato statements. Three minutes in, there is a sparingly dystopian guitar interacting before a quite gorgeous and playful flute solo. As it moves into its final couple of minutes, there is a march which segues into the most beautiful burst of flute. I have embedded the track below.

We close with La danza de los condenados (The dance of the damned), over eight minutes and a fine end to a very interesting album. The opening of the dance is slow, but once the strings, guitar, bassoon, and piano enter the fray, it is, in fact, a joyful dance, as if the damned revel in their situation (as, of course, most heretics tended to do with their strong beliefs). The bass and drums add terrific intensity when they join the fray. As we move into the final segment, the overarching jazz tendencies which marked the RIO movement out from the beginning are brought to the fore, more so than at any other time on the album before we are brought down very gently in the closing seconds.

The closing piece exemplifies very nicely that fusion of chamber music and Avant rock. It is very well performed, it is never anything less than extremely interesting, and the production provides a sonic joy. It has also prompted me, for the first time in aeons, to take a listen to Henry Cow and Univers Zéro – challenging music and not at all the usual Lazland fare. Thus, this album by Asceta has prompted a positive action, and that is a fine thing. I rather think that readers of this review will be similarly tempted – in fact, as I edit this review, the exceptional 1979 release Heresie is on, and I can state categorically that Erebus more than merits mention aside such genius.  I will be following the future of this adventurous outfit closely.

The album will shortly be released by Azafrán Media, and you can see them at https://www.facebook.com/people/Azafr%C3%A1n-Media/100063478932791/