"Breaking Ice" is the emotive and ethereal debut release from Manchester based interdisciplinary artist Synda Sova.
Two sides and two stories that consist of a deeply personal collection of found sound and spoken word meshed together with diverse production techniques and haunting, splintered soundscapes. Melody, static and atmospherics coming together to create a dreamlike audio mood board.
This penumbral journey is a testament to its creator in both its vulnerability and bravery. Sound as language in its purest form.
Side A on the cassette version consists of four separate chapters and Side B is one beautifully epic sonic excursion.
A bit more about the project from the artist herself....
Synda Sova is a being of the most Northern part of the hemisphere. A hermit who has long survived alone in the icy, barren land, the knotted forests and frozen waters, using her wit, close kindred and developing relationship with nature. Cast out from her family and community she is surviving trauma, grief and loss, harnessing natural and neon Magick from between the cracks, and learning a new way to live and breathe that is intrinsic with the land and the Magick she can make there.
"Breaking Ice" is her journey through and into holistic magical queerness, connecting deeper with nature and herself.
I began writing this album in Autumn 2019, it’s taken two whole yearly cycles of myself, the seasons and the planets to finish its journey, though I am still very much on one. Each part has been created exactly when it could be, no sooner or later. Each sound captured and each sonic expression is of a place in time, and a place within myself. And as nothing remains, being able to capture any single one of these is precious. I am sound and nature and nature and sound is me. This is how I tell the story of myself, I cannot through any other means. From form, to formlessness, to joyous rapture within nature, which I am a part of.
Recognising resistance within myself and breaking it down, becoming slowly more fluid and flowing within a universality I cannot nor should ever control, externally or internally, one and the same. Working with nature, again, of which I am. Being in and of myself, in the moment, every moment, so being in and of nature, the universe, the multiplicitous oneness. But really the grandness is in the tiniest detail, the smallest wound I must allow to heal, the tiniest shine of light from within the cracks, each flicker of rapture. The littlest girl wandering through the weeds entirely alone. The fierce and fearlessly afraid young woman yearning, searching, wanting, forming, growing, desiring, yearning. The woman digging into the earth with her bare fingers, all versions of herself nails scraping, scratching deeper into the thickest darkest mud, hitting water planes, diving dark into the womb of the earth to swim, sleep and settle there, churn and curl in the belly of the planet, absorb the darkness, breathe easy with grains of dirt in her lungs, water in her veins, her blood spilling into the planet surrounding her. Feeding into each other, nourishing and nurturing, desiring and satisfying themselves, nails and hands, fingers grabbing, lips biting, hair and neck, waist gripped, pulled into deepness, darkness, mud spilling, blood seeping, wounds healing, her core yearning, satisfying, singing out into a sexual, sensual union that is both singular and of absolutely everything. Churning in the circle of memory and present and future realities into all potential, all openings, all possibilities. Waking from beneath this frozen lake and swimming to the shore. Raising arms and casting fires aflame with sparks and shouts and yells and screams and absolute support and synergy from the forest which birthed her, the lake which birthed her, the earth which birthed her, the rain clouds which birthed her, the oxygen in her lungs which birthed itself in perpetual life, sex, dance, stars, rebirth, sleep, swim. Sleep swim, sleep swim, sleep swim, sleep swim."
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"...a fractured landscape of field recordings and unidentifiable instrumentation that somehow add up to way more than the sum of their parts. Is it a diary? A scribbled confession? Or a dying ice age?" - (God Is In The TV, November 2021)
Read in full @
www.godisinthetvzine.co.uk/2021/11/05/lost-in-musique-ah-giitv-recommends-for-bandcamp-friday/
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"Sounds of rushing water, the clicks and clatters of opening latches or setting things down on a table, footsteps on a creaky wooden floor... the sounds of seeming self-imposed isolation that permeates. It's difficult to say what the listener is supposed to feel. Personally, I could feel the chill of every fractured sound, and I must say I liked it." - (On The Fringes of Sound, November 2021)
Read in full @
www.onthefringesofsound.com/post/the-fringes-on-the-radar-november-13
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