(The Wire) Araya is an improvising Chilean percussionist who has chosen as his primary focus the Peruvian cajón, a boxy instrument that sort of looks like a plywood table. This cassette has two ostensibly solo pieces, one recorded on a mobile phone in Punata (a small city in central Bolivia), the other documented by guitarist Christián Alvear at SOFÁ in Santiago, Chile. The Bolivian side was recorded over the course of two weeks, at least partly in the middle of a busy market, with bike horns, yelling, parades and so on. There are plenty of field recordings sampled before we start hearing the cajón, which is played by striking and scraping the box’s surface. Actual instrumental playing surfaces much more on the Chilean side, although there may well be other instruments on it as well. Not that I can actually read the notes. But it’s still a highly interesting mix of neo-environmental sounds and music, regardless of who, what or where. - Byron Coley
(Disaster Amnesiac) It was a few years ago that Disaster Amnesiac had a conversation with Bryan Day in which Bryan had told me of his plans to check out Noise and Experimental music in South East Asia. When I first pulled Felipe Araya's Punata tape out of its mailer, I thought that maybe it was one of the first fruits of Day's curiosity re: that region. It turns out that Araya hails from Chile. As I've listened to the tape, it's hit me that I know very little about that region of the world, so perhaps it's better for my understanding than a possible release from the Pacific Rim. One great aspect of Punata is its first side, eponymous to the title, during which the listener is treated to 26 minutes of filed recordings from Bolivia. Presented in a raw, cell-phone captured way, Punata has similar vibes to many of the Bishop brothers' Sublime Frequencies releases: seemingly true to life vignettes of street-level societal action, with intimate conversational snippets. The most fascinating passage for this listener is one in which a marching band rocks out with abandon. That said, the seeming sound of windswept prairies of some sort towards the very end are compellingly spooky. Disaster Amnesiac must admit to enjoying the b-side, No Punata, a bit more, as it features Araya's own musical pursuits. He plays the Peruvian Cajon, a quite simply structured percussive box with a large hole in its middle. Felipe experiments with the Cajon's tones and textures, utilizing extended techniques such as rubbing, sliding, kneading, and dropping it. It's really quite cool to hear musicians from different parts of the world experimenting upon instruments that are pretty much indigenous to them. Perhaps that's also something that Bryan finds really compelling? Also neat is the ancient sound of the Tarka, an Andean wind instrument that Araya pairs with Cajon to beautiful effect. No Punata ends with a rolling crescendo, during which Felipe sounds impressively unhinged and live, bringing things to a close with wild sawing action of a very loner nature. It's the sound of musician and instrument melding in the simplest, yet most intimate of ways. After listening to Punata, one wonders what other sounds eh? Records has lined up, from parts far-flung, for the curious aural aficionado. If you're looking for raw sounds of Sur America, this cassette could be a fine place at which to start. - Mark Pino
(Revue et Corrigee) De soleil nous en avons besoin, et le Punata de Felipe Araya nous en apporte ! En direct de Bolivie ou du Chili pour un voyage assez incroyablement monté. Felipe Araya est un percussioniste chilien qui a entre autres joué avec Birgit Uhler et Cristian Alvear, dont nous avons déjà parlé dans ces colonnes, et dont la présence ici ne fait pas forcément dans le hasard. Tel un remix, il propose une virée à Santigao du Chili, le remix c'est pour le nom de la pièce de cette face b : « No punata ». Un remix, un miroir, un feedback, une relecture de ce que nous venions d'entendre sur la pièce de Felipe Araya en face a, la bien nommée « Punata » enregistrée en Bolivie. Ou plutôt une suite, car le traitement est un peu différent dans la manière de faire. Le procédé commun est l'apport de fieldrecordings captés en mars 2017, sur de la percussion bruitiste. Chez Felipe Araya, ce que j'ai préféré le plus est ce mêlange instantané de jeu et de sons environnementaux dans un montage brut et léger à la fois. On retrouvait un peu cela sur le disque d'Alvarius B, « vs Abdel Baki, Byro in Cairo » sur Nashazphone. Une balade, j'allais le dire avant de lire les quelques notes de pochette, en micro cravatte...et bien non, il s'agit d'enregistrements sur téléphone portable. J'aime vraiment ces incursions de musiques concrètes urbaines, apparitions subtiles en immersion, qui disparaissent comme elles sont venues, discrètement. Le « No punata » est quant à lui plus rêche, plus nerveux. Assemblage de notes cristallines, de musique folklorique et de râles tels des vibrations de membranes de haut parleurs. Assez intrigant ce son d'ailleurs dont on ne sait s'il est acoustique ou électrique. C'est cette confusion qui me charme chez Cristian Alvear. - Cyrille Lanoë
(Sound Projector) Felipe Araya is a Chilean performer who takes an unorthodox and minimalist approach to playing his Peruvian cajón, a box-shaped percussion device. The conventional way to play it is to strike the sides of the box with sticks or hands. Instead, Araya uses it like a table-top with various small objects laid on top of it, which he rubs and strikes and scrapes. On the cassette Punata (EH?96) you can hear him (almost) doing just this; the first side is interspersed with lively field recordings from the streets of Bolivia, which he captured on his mobile phone, while the second side ‘No Punata’ is the document of a minimal-rumbly cajón performance, with some exciting moments of heavy sawing and rubbing actions. The fact that Cristián Alvear recorded this (he’s the Chilean quiet guitarist and acolyte of the Wandelweiser school) may clue you in to what to expect, but even so it’s not as “uneventful” as I might be making it appear. It might not be too far off the mark to liken Felipe Araya to Alfredo Costa Monteiro, who likewise “repurposed” a conventional instrument (the accordion) and was not averse to a good scrape-and-rumble bout. There may also be some mileage in the thought that a Chilean musician is trying to find inroads into the cold, European school of Wandelweiser, and colonise it on his own terms. - Ed Pinsent
(Chain DLK) We start off with “Punata,” a 26-minute track that, according to the liner notes, was recorded to mobile phone in Bolivia. From the very beginning, there is a rawness to the piece, as you hear conversations taking place in the street, and snippets of music. Suddenly, there is hardly any sound, with bits of wind noise the only clue that the tape has not stopped. There are sparse sounds of the cajon, Araya’s signature instrument, and other bits of noise. Everything is quiet, until a parade blasts through your speakers. The parade ends, to be replaced by quiet scraping and clinking metal and a slight rumble. One can view this as the juxtaposition of quiet moments of reflection and experimentation with the vibrant noise of the street. Back and forth, never staying with one side for very long. Turning over the tape, we are greeted with a peaceful flute followed by low beating on the cajon and clinking metal. Gone are the field recordings and loops. For a while, it has the feel of incidental music, but as the track goes on, it is dominated more and more by the cajon, with a heavy bass presence. This becomes increasingly animated as Araya scrapes and vigorously pounds on the cajon. With both tracks there is a good use of quiet passages to draw attention to the rest of the composition. If you enjoy field recordings, Punata will be up your alley, and percussion aficionados will enjoy a track featuring an instrument that is not often seen in experimental music. - Eskaton
(Cassette Gods) When not using the built-in mic of his cellular phone to steal the sound-souls from Bolivian & Chilean passersby, Felipe Araya acts upon his cajon like so: rub, smoosh, flutter, clack, swipe, squeak, massage, caress, shuffle, drag, scrape, massage, tinkle, creak, shudder! &do not look for rhymes or reasons here. Then, he plots Andean flute, Earth winds, footsteps. Oh, do not look for rhythms or raising hairs. As kerfluffle ubiquifies unto ambiance-hood, and seismic groans drone plaintively below twinkling scraps, do not look for rams or rustles near. found within are field recordings from South America, electro-acoustic compositions via treated solo cajón, flute, & pretty much most sounds harvestable via natural frictions & jigglings about. - Jacob An Kittenplan
