(Disaster Amnesiac) Emerging from the ether wrapped in an elegantly simple brown slip case and decorated with Bryan Day's cool asemic writing, Studies and Observations of Domestic Shrubbery presents four pieces that click, chatter, and drone. Composer Gary Rouzer utilizes cello, clarinet, and cardboard as sound generators. Disaster Amnesiac puzzles over which sounds are emanating from the cardboard, but thinks that it may be these kind of scrape-ey whooshes that arise from the mix. The cello sounds are much more easily appraised, as Rouzer pulls long tones from them to produce said drones, along with percussive bowing techniques on the strings and possibly the body of the instrument. His clarinet sounds are generally high-pitched signals that arise from the the low stuff of cardboard and cello. Perhaps the most striking aspect of Studies and Observations is the ways in which Rouzer uses silence: long pauses in the action provide drama inducing tensions, before leading into new exploratory spaces. Far from being Harsh, the Noise that Rouzer cooks up is full of these spaces and their attendant release. Four really enjoyable multi-tracked observations, here. - Mark Pino
(Vital Weekly) From Washington DC is Gary Rouzer, whose work deals usually with electronics, preparations, motors, tapes or amplified objects, but not on this new releases. Here he limits himself to the use of cello, clarinet and cardboard - of which he notes that 'each produce very similar sounds that could be mistaken for breathing', and that he wanted to play these instruments/objects in such a way that it would be hard to tell which is what here, and I must say he succeeded quite well at that. He adds a bit of field recording here and there, but otherwise nothing much else. He plays everything and records it on the computer and treats it 'as is'; no effects are added later on. I do believe, however, that he does use the multi-track function so that he can overlay sounds and create a more complex composition. Not that these pieces are overtly complex anyway, and I don't mean this in a negative way. I very much enjoy the four pieces Rouzer plays here: they are very minimal, with say sustaining sounds on the cello and clarinet and the rubbing of the cardboard on a surface - I am describing 'Chokeberry Swallow' here - which slowly drifts apart and the clarinet has a somewhat more free role. The music is kept 'small' and doesn't drift wildly apart but has a rather intimate feeling. It's throughout quiet music that doesn't always require off attention. Maybe an interesting mixture of improvised music and ambient, played with acoustic instruments and sound sources. A well refined release. - Frans De Waard
(Monk Mink Pink Punk) With records devoted to electric fish, peyote, drying out trees, museum and industrial tower visits reviewed this issue, sure: field recordings of shrubbery. But this title is tongue in cheek from multi-instrumentalist Gary Rouzer, who overdubs clarinet, cello and cardboard into slow moving drones. I don’t know how the cardboard fits into the mix, but for those like me who enjoy the sound of clarinets and cellos, this is an interesting listen, not falling into any easily recognizable category. Too noisy to be chamber music, too static to be noise music, too ordered to be improv. These broad categories I put these reviews into aren’t meant to be taken seriously, they are just a way to break up the reviews into smaller web pages. The quiet explorations of instruments here make me think of Jim Denley’s work. - Josh Ronsen
(Invisible Oranges) The title of this work and the fact that on his bio Gary Rouzer makes use of Dorothy Parker’s quote: “The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity,” reveal an artist with a healthy dose of sarcasm. The main instruments that Rouzer makes use of in his work are cello, clarinet, amplified objects and field recordings. Through this majestic study, Rouzer ventures into the abstract music domain. Presenting elements of free improvisation, noise, drone and field recordings he is able to construct an all-encompassing ambiance for his music. Studies and Observations morphs constantly from one moment to the next, managing to produce instances of chamber music, big drone soundscapes, dramatic cello interludes and unique textural sounds. Who knew one could deduce that much from shrubbery? - Joseph Schafer
(Sound Projector) Gary Rouzer is a US improvising musician with an interest in mechanical processing and the different means of interlinking and layering his chosen materials. He is an example of an utterly open-minded classical musician who has a passion for exploring the sonic potential of not just his own familiar items of classical instrumentation, but the musical possibilities and unfamiliarity inherent in electro-acoustic improvisation. He approaches this with not inconsiderable amounts of rigour, as evidenced within his amptext blog. On the strangely titled Studies and Observation of Domestic Shrubbery, Rouzer utilises clarinet, cello and cardboard on his recordings and acquits himself well. I’m fascinated by the sounds produced when objects are rubbed together, scraped, struck and allowed to influence musical instruments and so on and admirably, it seems Rouzer considers the results of these processes as equal to those of his considerable technique on his instruments. His enthusiasm for the possibilities afforded by utilization of humble pieces of cardboard is fascinating. I suspect for him, improvisation is less a method of banal discovery – letting things present themselves to him like so many “experimental” musicians – but more a way of figuring things out. Particularly enjoyable moments for me are numerous; the sparse interjections of field recordings at the beginning of the third piece ‘Giant Hogweed’ and the density, relentlessness and pace of opener ‘Sky Saw’, for example. I’m also keen to acquire a new release Rouzer has out with viola player Paolo Valladoid on Confront, whereupon they performed inside a tunnel open to the public in a Virginian nature trail. Performances of this site-specific type often throw up interesting accidentals due to the presence of passersby who become members of a “non-audience” of sorts. Ute Wassermann has footage of herself doing something similar to great effect. You can view that here. I love the package this music comes in – a mess of monochromatic moss and pawprints on the front of this foldover card sleeve; a calligraphic tree design on the rear, all done by Eh? label head Bryan Day. Altogether then, a beautiful, beautiful thing. - Paul Khimasia Morgan