Abstract electronic / Modern classical.
REMASTERED 2024.
Chambers embedded into the walls of medieval churches in Denmark and Sweden served as Helmholts resonators, absorbing sound, particularly low frequency reverberation, in order to regulate the acoustics of the interior space.
Considering this, the sessions which eventually became Tessellation were occupied with the concept that sounds could become trapped as infinite vibrations of ever depreciating amplitude – becoming part of the molecular structure of a building or of a natural terrain – the energy eventually absorbed and stored as an association of the material record.
Tessellation contains audio information gleaned from some powerful environments. Ingrained ambience was important, and so I concentrated particularly on procuring sounds and impulse responses (for convolution reverb) from several buildings and locations washed in decades of dedicated adoration and ovation. Amongst others, source recordings were made in the Palais des Papes in Avignon, the glacial caves of Mount Blanc and around the shoreline of the Lac de St. Croix, under whose waters lay the remains of the sunken village, Ste-Croix-de-Verdon.
This is an album about a concealed history, the imperceptibly faint records of audible resonance impregnated over time into the physical artifacts of the world.
Review : Bandcamp
Dive into Mark Tamea’s Tessellation – a wild, quiet storm of ambient electronic vibes. Perfect for zoning out or late-night headphone trips. Download it and keep it close, or just listen online while the world blurs. tracks like “A Brain Shaped Hole” and “The Forest Star” don’t so much play as they creep in and live with you. No big hits here, just deep sounds that stick. Kinda feels like your thoughts finally got their own soundtrack. Who knew silence could be this loud?
– Anon, Bandcamp
Review: Bandcamp.
Mark Tamea’s Tessellation? Yeah, it hit different. Dropped in 2008 under AtmoWorks – obscure label, zero hype. But this ain’t some background noise for your yoga session. Nah. This album crawls into your skull and sets up camp.
First track “I – The Forest Star” – slow burn, yeah, but not lazy. It builds like something’s waking up under the soil. Cold synths, glitchy pulses, no beat to hold your hand. You either float with it or get left behind. I liked that. Felt like getting lost on purpose.
Then “II – The Cell Assailed” hits at 5:15 – shortest joint here – and it’s brutal. Sounds like a machine having a panic attack. Wires frying, data streams collapsing. Not music, more like audio autopsies. Took me three listens just to stop hitting pause outta instinct.
Track III? “A Brain Shaped Hole Where A Head Used To Be” – what a name. Even if you hate the sound, respect the title. Ten minutes of warped ambient decay. Feels post-human. Like someone recorded the silence after civilization blinked out. Creepy as hell. Loved it.
“IV – A Pool Of Uniformed Intent” drags for 12 minutes. Could’ve trimmed the fat. Drifts too long in one zone. Starts strong – underwater drones, muffled signals – but halfway through, you’re just waiting for the next shift. Doesn’t come fast enough. Got bored. Admitted.
Last cut “V – Split, Ranged And Trussed” – now that’s the money shot. Starts with static rain, then folds into layers of distorted harmony. Sounds surgical. Painful but precise. Ends with a tone so low it vibrates your fillings. Left my speakers rattling. Good.
Whole thing’s labeled Electronic, Ambient, Experimental. Fine. But don’t go expecting Brian Eno softness. This is ambient with teeth. Abstract? Hell yes. Feels like staring at a painting where half the canvas is blank but you still feel watched. Didn’t like how cold it is. No warmth anywhere. Human touch buried under code and reverb. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe Tamea hates comfort. Oh, and why the hell is Track II numbered after Track III in the list? Who does that? Messed with my head first time through. Annoying. But weirdly fitting.
Album doesn’t play by rules. Neither should its track order. Only five tracks. No vocals. No hooks. Just pure atmosphere built like a maze. Some will call it pretentious. Maybe it is. But I keep coming back. Something about it sticks – like sonic shrapnel. Funny thing? Artist’s website is just a single page with a dead blog from 2010. No socials. No interviews. Dude vanished. Makes the album feel like a message in a bottle. Or a warning. Listen if you dare. Just don’t expect to feel better after.
– Anon, Bandcamp