30 December 2015

The Swedish film you never saw: Mio Min Mio

This was one of my favourite movies when I was a kid. It's a Swedish 'Neverending Story' of sorts. My sister got a set of pan pipes just so we could play the theme tune. It's so funny how in the last variation on the theme in the video it just goes through loads of funky key changes. What's not to love?

23 December 2015

11 December 2015

Field Hymns Records

I cannot for the life of me find out how to embed Bandcamp links in posts. but you can find the link to the Field Hymns label here.It's a really intriguing little label, probably because so many of the releases cite early tape music and synth pioneers as influences. One of the artists, Foton, is actually the person behind Curd Lake who I posted about earlier this year. That's their album art below.

28 November 2015

Free talks by Pauline Oliveros, Morton Subotnick and others (LCMF 2015)

This year at the London Contemporary Music Festival there will be a few free talks on 12th and 13th December with, among other speakers, Pauline Oliveros and Morton Subotnick. (!!!) It's happening alongside the 'West Coast Night' which will feature compositions from the San Francisco Tape Music Centre. Pretty cool. (more info here)

However, a tiny note of caution is due about these kinds of events: they can be either completely mind-blowing or completely anticlimactic. The last time I went to an evening dedicated to mostly minimalist music, held at Café OTO earlier this year, it was definitely the latter experience. The highlight of the night was supposed to be a performance of Terry Riley's 'In C'. A massive orchestra assembled, a Moog Voyager was placed proudly in the center -- it certainly looked like it would be exciting.

As it happened my idea of what was to follow was very vague, and little did I expect that my main thought for the whole pain-staking 45 minutes (and 57 seconds) would be "this is time I will never get back". Those were actually the very first words my sister said me to me when we were out of earshot of my friend, who was really enthusiastic about the whole thing, and who had taken us to Café OTO in the first place. Incidentally the Moog was used about once every 10 minutes solely to play a drone note; one could ask, very rightly, how it is possible to use such an innovative instrument so unninovatively. Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion but, more importantly, everyone is entitled to their informed opinion. So my personal informed opinion is that sometimes experimental music can feel a little too understated when played live. Though perhaps everything changes when the composer plays his/her own pieces themself, which wasn't the case at Café OTO.

At any rate, the LCMF talks are bound to be interesting. And they're free!

17 November 2015

.... Featuring a kaleidoscope that my mum gave me on my tenth birthday and music by the inimitable Alexey Rybnikov. This particular excerpt is from an old animation of Comet in Moominland, based on a book by Tove Jansson.

Update: have only just realised how atrocious the video quality is... My advice - don't try full screen.

17 October 2015

Just another Radiophonic reminiscence

Special Sound: The Creation and Legacy of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop by Louis Niebur was my first proper cover-to-cover read of a book in the electronic music field. Like anything it has more and less successful aspects, but generally it provides just the right level of detail -- just enough to understand the inner workings of the RW, the people involved and its general development over time. Occasionally the book slips into cinema lingo that isn't really of interest to musicians; is it really necessary, for example, to know the definition of terms such as "acousmetre" and "synchresis"? I'd have much preferred some more in-depth information about how the music was actually produced rather than long analyses of its effects and functions on British TV.

Still, there are several really neat things about this book, one of which is that it's linked to a website which has some rare audio and video examples; these are then used as a basis for explanation and analysis in the book itself. The website is password-protected, which is strange considering it's possible to view both username and password on the first page of any preview from Google Books or Amazon. With that in mind, I hope no one kills me if I share the website and login details (which are the same for every copy of the book)
Username: Music2
Password: Book4416

The "Cloud Burst" excerpt featuring music by Roger Limb is definitely a favourite (see 5.1 of the Video section). It's perfectly representative of that time in the early 70s when the RW was at its prime because at long last it was not being held back by shortages of equipment and funding. And when I say "at its prime" I mean the Workshop at large. In terms of individual achievement Delia's work in the 60s is always going to beat anything produced later, in my opinion. Incidentally the excerpts from Amor Dei (3.7-3.9 of Audio), mostly done by Delia in 1964, are also quite unqiue in that they shed light on her working process. It's almost unthinkable how the voice of a solitary boy soprano (3.7) became the formless and ethereal swell of voices in 3.9.

2 October 2015

Know who you are at every age

... One of the most valuable lessons I've learned. And hardly a year passes when I don't have to re-learn it.

20 September 2015

Autumn and Melancholia have landed

It always seems that autumn, unlike summer, arrives "tout d'un coup", in other words very suddenly. I'm not really complaining because autumn is a very beautiful (and in some ways my favourite) season, but autumnal melancholy hits every year almost without fail.

The Kishi Bashi song seems perfect for exactly this transitional period between summer and autumn. And somehow this early-16th-century engraving by Albrecht Durer is a very suitable match to the music -- I can almost imagine the figure of Melancholia (melancholy personified) playing that song on the stringed instrument he/she is holding, though I don't think there are any reverb or delay pedals in the picture...

Durer wrote in his notebooks that he characterised "melancholia" or melencolia (the title of the painting) not only as a feeling of sadness but also as a loss of artistic inspiration. According to What Great Paintings Say by Rose-Marie and Rainer Hagen, he advised the students in his workshop to turn to music and to play a stringed instrument when this came upon them. That's probably the reason why melancholia personified is holding one in the picture. It's an interesting principle; when art goes stale and loses its vitality, turn to other art forms to be inspired!

In view of all this, where does the British expression "highly strung" (meaning very nervous and easily upset) come from? Is there some kind of fundamental connection between melancholy and the strings?!

17 September 2015

The formative years

Hm... I wonder if getting an SK-10 was as useless and temporary as buying clothes for a toddler. No CV, no Gate, very limited controls...Well, it happened anyway, and I'm actually glad it did, in many ways. The formative years are only just beginning.


15 August 2015


It's time to scare everyone away from this blog for ever.

3 August 2015

Unexpected Finds

I love accidentally happening upon things when I'm least expecting it, and I certainly wasn't expecting such a lovely little piece to pop up on a Gearslutz forum. I'm not big on forums generally, I rarely find like-minded people there. Blogs are much more useful in that respect. Anyway, I was on this thread where someone was trying to explain the difference between the sound of VCOs and DCOs, and there it was!

31 July 2015

Synapse: the electronic music magazine

I recently discovered the Synapse Electronic Music magazine, and it's making for some really interesting reading. What a shame that it only lasted from 1976 till 1979! The music reviews and book reviews have both brought me out onto some really cool stuff already. For example, who knew that a book called Electronic Music for Young People existed? I certainly didn't. What a front cover that is. Also --- it's strangely tempting to fill in the forms for all the giveaways and send them in 40 years too late...

All the issues of Synapse are available here.

23 July 2015

Finchcocks Musical Museum

Finchcocks Musical Museum in Kent (England) is a one-of-a-kind place -- visitors get to play authentic 17th, 18th and 19th-century keyboard instruments. And I don't mean being allowed a sly prod at one of the keys while none of the staff are looking, I mean actually getting to play a piece of music. The great thing is that there's nobody prowling about, vulture-like,  watching your every move with a look of profound distrust (something you'd expect since these instruments are each 300 years old at least). The atmosphere is remarkably laid back. To tell the truth my visit was in 2008, so I'm not 100% sure that the policies are the same now, but they can't have changed much since then.  The museum's got slightly awkward opening times too (they're all here) but that can be overcome with a bit of planning, obviously.

As well as being able to play, visitors can stay for talks and recitals which feature the instruments themselves, but usually the repertoire is baroque and classical music, so if that's not your thing then don't stick around and head straight to the gardens surrounding the house. They're wonderful.

12 July 2015

The Scottish Highlands

British people often say to me that over the summer, they just want to get out of the UK. For those who think summer was made for scorching heat, beaches, tanning, crowds, a surfeit of alcohol and idleness, Britain's not the best bet for an ideal holiday. But the adventurous, and those who are willing to put up with inconsistent weather patterns, are in for a treat if they take a trip in Blighty (a colloquial term for Britain). It's true, the weather here really is as unstable as it's made out to be. Every time I return to England from abroad, it always rains, and I'm not exaggerating. "Welcome back to rainy Britain" is what Brits like to say at the end of their holiday abroad, climbing out of their plane to face a blast of drizzle and hastily covering their sunburnt shoulders.
But despite all this, despite the assumption of most Brits that summer on our drizzly island is not an option, Britain is one of the best places to spend the summer. At least, that was my impression after I spent a week in Scotland last August. We stayed in an Edinburgh flat, and from there we took trips to the Scottish Highlands, which I'd recommend for people looking to see some of the capital as well as the countryside. Otherwise, staying in the Scottish Highlands is more practical. I'll probably post separately about Edinburgh at some point; it's worth a post of its own!

I'll admit that at first I was reluctant about going for long walks in the Highlands. Though I am an outdoors-y person, my stamina is awful, and my family was never one of those sporty ones that takes bikes on holiday and goes for 10k walks. But I was so wrong in my initial reluctance, because the Scottish Highlands in August really is the place to be. You just feel so completely isolated from the rest of the world, like the whole landscape is there just for you to explore. That's the great thing about the Highlands -- it's incredibly popular and hundreds of people go there but you hardly meet anyone because they're all scattered across an enormous territory. 

Our first destination was Glencoe, about a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Edinburgh. A more picturesque road is scarcely imaginable; ruins of castles are visible in the distance, and every so often an old crumbling viaduct over a silvery thread of river. But only half the beauty can be seen from inside the car. It's not easy to explain, but somehow, when you toil up a winding mountain path for a few hours, the overwhelming impression imposed by the beauty around becomes all the more strong. Maybe it's part of the feeling that you've reached a place that few have seen - a spot of untouched wild beauty that was waiting for you all this time. But that's an extremely naive view, as Glencoe is hardly lacking in tourists. Last year, around 7.3 million trips were made to Eastern Scotland alone (which includes Glencoe).

Roaming the landscape is enough of an impression in itself. But seeing the ruins of a medieval castle up close against that landscape makes for something perhaps even more unforgettable. We paid a visit to Dunnottar castle, located on an island joined by a strip of land to the north east coast of Scotland. The jagged ruins jut out into the sky while below is a 250-feet drop down to the raging North Sea. The view from afar is spectacular enough, but getting closer to the ruins, feeling the primeval rocks, breathing in the salty air and hearing a solitary seagull's cry just above your head as it lands on the peak of a half-crumbled tower is something else entirely. The ephemeral clashes bizzarely with the eternal; even the 500-year-old stone remains seem transient against the landscape. It's a humbling experience...

Before you take the trip that maybe won't change your life, but will definitely leave you feeling as though you've taken away a piece of eternity in your heart, be sure to grab some suitable CDs for the drive. Recommended tracks include anything by Enya and anything from the soundtrack of BraveheartLord of the RingsWillow, etc. And everything in between.


3 July 2015

Soviet animations vol.1

One thing that never gets old is the cartoon adaptation of a story called The Little Witch by the Swedish author Otfried Preußler. It almost never fails to put me in a good mood, and there's almost nothing that so effectively transports me into my childhood. As with lots of Soviet cartoons, no English subtitled or dubbed version is available, but thankfully the music's been put on YouTube by the composer, Philipp Koltsov. He's also got a pretty detailed description of his setup on his website and copious photos of his studio

 My favourite bit in the recording below has got to be the interlude of madness at 1:40...

21 June 2015

Summers in London

I wonder if I will ever fall out of love with London. I'm worried I will, because I'm going to be spending most of my time there as of September. Yet even that knowledge won't stop me from spending as many summer days as possible out there this year, because truly nothing defeats the spirit of summer in London.

One of the most brilliant experiences is driving on a double decker bus through night-time London, at the very front. That feeling is truly equal to having the world at your fingertips. That Peter Pan flight scene instantly comes to mind. There's also nothing greater than staying in Kensington Gardens or Hyde Park until twilight, or even complete darkness, and then having a solitary moonlit walk (though you'll have to climb over a gate or two if you're strolling about after hours). In the dusk/dark, when there's no one around, the boundary between reality and fantasy is so easily bridged. There's this gigantic larger-than-life stone statue of a horse in Kensington Gardens, and in the dark from a distance it seems plausible that it's about to come to life and charge at you...

Hamsptead Heath is another favorite park. It's got this huge felled tree (several in fact) and if you're as adventurous as my sister you'll probably want to climb up onto it and have your picture taken. The photo with the pineapple, incidentally, is also of her, in a place called Ham House in the Richmond area. As part of a special event, visitors to Ham House got free pineapples; apparently, they are often seen as a sign of welcome, which is why you may find stone pineapples at the gates/entrance of stately homes in England and elsewhere.

So... I guess the point I'm trying to make is that London is wonderful, and even more so when you stray off the beaten track and find places that are a little away from the general touristic hubbub. Now I'll let the pictures do the talking:

Hampstead Heath
Ham House, Richmond
Marble Hill House, across the Thames River
Kensington Gardens
Hyde Park during BST festival 

31 May 2015

John Williams -- inspired by the Radiophonic Workshop?

It hardly surprises me to hear traces of Radiophonic Workshop-inspired motifs in contemporary film scores, but recently it struck me that a lot of John Williams' work seems to draw on those early influences.

Browsing the WikiDelia page the other day, I came across Delia Derbyshire's Aztec series, and, while listening to 'Exquisite Featherwork', began to think -- where have I heard this before? Eventually the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone soundtrack inevitably came to mind, and particularly the track below. It's always given me the creeps. Perhaps John Williams was inspired by Delia's work?

23 May 2015

2 May 2015

Very tired bears

These crazy photos of bears are from Skansen outdoor museum in Stockholm (the first ever open-air museum in the world, apparently) and they still never fail to amuse me. Ok, there's nothing funny about animals in captivity, but these guys have lots of space, and their idleness is probably not a result of depression, though I wouldn't know. In any case, you just can't deny the comic potential of those poses...

29 April 2015

Xeno and Oaklander - Par Avion

I've asked myself a hundred times already how Xeno and Oaklander has managed to escape my notice for so long...

24 April 2015

Daughter by Yuck (Oupa)

Waves of infinite tranquility...

Although it says the track is by Yuck, it's actually from a side-project called Oupa started by Daniel Blumberg circa 2012.

19 April 2015

Творожное Озеро (Curd Lake)

Unfortunately, it's not very often that good contemporary Russian music emerges (sorry -- not sure if I have licence to say that). All the more delightful, therefore, is the discovery of a Russian electronic music project that ticks all the right boxes. The music of Curd Lake (Творожное Озеро) is just so indescribably uplifting, so absolutely permeated with optimism and the spirit of summer. Hearing it for the first time last January was akin to flying from a Northern country to a Southern one, coming down the 'airstairs' and feeling a total change of climate, breathing and tasting the exotic.

What's really unfortunate is that Curd Lake was a one-off project, recorded mostly in summer 2013 and later abandoned. There's hardly any information out there about the enigmatic persona behind the music; all I've found out is that early 2014 saw the end of Curd Lake. In a way, I appreciate the decision, because it's too often the case that talent is unsustainable, and that the first songs are followed by second-rate material.It's a disappointing realisation. Having said that, I do so wish the person behind Curd Lake would reanimate the project, because it is easily superior to 80 % of the music currently being recorded (or maybe I'm just not looking in the right place).

16 April 2015

Stockholm Vol.1- Stockholm Music and Arts Festival

It would be absolutely impossible to write just one post about Stockholm, so this is the first from a series. Stockholm Music and Arts was the first day festival I went to (back in 2012), and it didn't fail to live up to my expectations. It might have had something  (or everything) to do with Bjork being on the lineup, but I think that the atmosphere contributed. The festival takes place on Skeppsholmen island, which means you have the best views of Stockholm's Old Town, and you're surrounded by sea, so enjoying live music in a beautiful setting suddenly becomes a reality. It was truly incredible, despite the fact we were knackered after a very long flight. Hoping to go back to Sweden very soon!


 ...I'm always for 'taking pictures with your eyes' rather than with a camera, especially at music events, because only that way you enjoy the moment. But there's really no denying the power that a photograph has in bringing memories to life.

13 April 2015

Daphne Oram by Victoria Morton

Here's a painting of Daphne by the Scottish artist Victoria Morton. It was up in the National Gallery of Modern Art in Edinburgh when I went there last summer, and I'm so glad I went  because I probably would never have come across this painting otherwise!

10 April 2015

Musical saw and theremin: twins separated at birth?

I always thought the musical saw sounds a lot like the theremin, and here's conclusive proof that they belong together:

7 April 2015

Sounds of Summer

Although I'm not that keen on The Magnetic Fields, and this isn't the most optimistic of songs, it always makes things better for me when everything appears desperately bleak. It offers a sort of refuge in reminiscence, which may not be the best coping strategy but I can't help resorting to it on occasion.
Hopefully it has the same positive effect on everyone who listens to it!

6 April 2015

Radiophonic Workshop Live in London

On 17th April there will be a Radiophonic Workshop live show at the Southbank Centre in London! Tickets available here.

Really wish I could go, but it doesn't look like I'll be able to...

2 April 2015

The Space Lady

 Sometimes simplicity (and even imperfection) reigns supreme. 

1 April 2015

Martin Newcomb's Museum of Synthesizer Technology

A synthesizer museum is one of those things that seems, even in 2015, to be fiction rather than reality. There are a handful of  studios dotted around the globe that call themselves  'museums', and they're not what you'd expect them to be. There's nothing like a large public space housing a substantial collection of fully-fledged, top-quality synths, lovingly gathered together and displayed for the enjoyment of the general public (correct me if I'm wrong, this is just the impression I have).

The sad thing is, there have been people in the past who've attempted to provide such a place, but somehow didn't have the necessary public interest. Martin Newcomb was one of them; his Museum of Synthesizer Technology in London, which had over 350 instruments, was shut not long after it opened. I came across this article the other day which includes an interview with him.

 Admittedly, Martin didn't initially have a museum in mind, he simply needed a place to store his growing collection. In fact, he was enthusiastic about electronic music early on but everything was extortionately priced at the time so he couldn't afford a synth until later in his life. He says - "I think a lot of people have a passion for certain things, but usually it stays latent unless they can afford to do something about it." (He could not have been more right there.)

"I gave the museum my best shot, but not enough people gave a damn. Most people were more interested in seeing how long it would be before it collapsed”. I couldn't quite process that. At this point I'd love to say that this is an April Fool's joke, and that Martin's Museum is still up and running, and that hundreds of people have visited it since its opening, etc, etc, but I'm afraid that would not be the truth.

On the up side, the knowledge that people in the past have made wholehearted attempts at making synths more accessible for the public is an optimistic thought. And who knows, maybe it's all still to come...

26 March 2015

Oxford at Christmas time

Reminiscing about Christmas at the end of March...Oops.
Exterior of Magdalen College, December 2014
A chink of courtyard through the window

24 March 2015

Venus in Furs (the band no one has heard of)

I went through a phase of absolutely loving Venus in Furs, and was absolutely indignant at the fact that no one had heard of them. When I asked someone if they did, the reaction I got was most often was: "What, the Velvet Underground song?". No, no... THIS is what I mean:

18 March 2015

Another glimpse into the past

This was over a year ago, and I only got to use that Elektronika EM-14 Venta once. It feels like I hardly knew anything about synthesizers at the time. This one was bought by a friend for me to use, and as it was an early Soviet synth it was all labelled in Russian and I had to translate what it said on it. We had a good laugh doing that, especially as I had no idea what some of the controls actually meant (I guess early synths are often like that). The attraction was not only in the sound, but also in the enigma of the way it was created - the controls weren't buttons or knobs or dials, but pull-out sliders/registers, (see here for better pictures) which I'd never come across before. I'm sure a person who's in-the-know about these things could tell me that there are a hundred flaws with the Venta, but at the time my naivety was such that I was in complete awe-struck wonder of it. Unfortunately, it was declared too heavy and impractical for gigs, and at the time practicality was a priority for us, so it was sold. I still miss it a lot. My facial expression and the Microkorg (?!) were too shameful so had to be blurred out.

16 March 2015

Venetian Horizons

This blog seems to be going in all sorts of different directions (which, perhaps, is hardly surprising, given its name). It was intially supposed to be geared towards music, but I think that it would be such a waste not to write about my recent travel experiences here...

   A post about Venice is long overdue. I went out there for a few days in January to visit a friend, and fell in love with the place. Apart from the setback of (potentially) lousy weather, and the fact that riding in a gondola is really not pleasant in winter, trips to Venice in January are ideal, because it's the only time of year that the place isn't swarming with tourists. Only in the winter months does the city retain its quiet and somewhat doleful charm, untainted by the noise of crowds thronging to see the Piazza San Marco, Ponte di Rialto and the other big tourist attractions. Although these hotspots are worth visiting for their splendour, it's also worth straying off the beaten track and doing a bit of exploration, to find the places that are a little more quiet and a little more tucked away.

Basilica di San Marco

One of the smaller canals 

The very north of the Cannaregio area
Venice is susceptible to unexpected flooding due to high tides - called acqua alta in Italian - which often makes life difficult for locals and tourists alike. Flood defences are hastily installed and unsuspecting tourists are caught unawares, rushing to buy wellies and raincoats. I'm very glad it didn't happen when I went!
My friend's door was fitted at the bottom with a metal frame which bamboozled me, as it bore the appearance of a glaringly obvious and substandard booby trap, to be tripped over by those who entered and left the house. But apparently defences like that are always installed on doors during periods of high tide.

     The Venetian phenomenon gives its name to one of Venice's (badly) hidden gems- the Libreria Acqua Alta. This beautiful bookshop is in the Castello area, and well worth a visit. The shop is positively sinking (pardon the pun) under tons of books- new and old, on all subjects, and in all languages. You will be greeted as you walk in by a few of the bookshop's very own cats who will smirk at you lazily and reluctantly allow themselves to be stroked; you will barely make it through the door and already you'll be rummaging in the heaps of books, magazines, newspapers and posters piled on to tables and inside bathtubs. Bathtubs? Yes -  it's done to preserve the books from unpredicted flooding. Sadly, a lot of the books have been ruined by water in past years despite these precautions, giving the shop a decaying and musty smell (which nonetheless does not detract from the general charm of the place).

Libreria Acqua Alta

Our trip was just around the time of the Charlie Hebdo attacks in Paris, and there was a protest held in Venice at Campo Manin on 12th January, to which we went. It was such a mournful atmosphere, but also one of unyielding solidarity. These shots that my sister took capture it quite well:

Protestors in Campo Manin

That's one of the great things about Venice- it may seem a little isolated from the rest of the continent (indeed, from the rest of Italy) but this is really not the case, as it is active both culturally and politically the whole year round.

Venice at night seems even more captivating than during the daytime, and even a little eerie. I read before going there that there are hardly any streetlights and that it gets pretty gloomy, but I didn't realise the extent to which this would be true. It really is just as dark as it's made out to be, which makes map-reading and getting your way around that little bit more difficult. Yet I wouldn't swap night-time walks in Venice for anything. We thoroughly explored the Cannaregio district in the dark, and came out onto a kind of platform which faces the sea... 

You stand there, look out onto the water, and imagine that you're not standing on solid ground. You wonder- why am I hovering above the water? Why am I not sinking? And there's this feeling of infinity, of permanence. It's incredible. It's a shame that this photo is blurred... It's also a shame that the more and more these Venetian memories retreat into the past, the more blurred they get, until they're just about visible on the horizon...

But I'll do my best to never forget the experience.
The Arsenale in Castello

This Tchaikovsky piece sums up the mood of Venice quite nicely I think:

15 March 2015


The concept of ideasthesia (similar to synaesthesia) is infinitely fascinating; put simply, it's the link between one experience and another, the connection of one sense to another. For me, the connection between music and literature and music and art is particularly interesting.

I'm currently re-reading The Gadfly by E.L Voynich, which I initially read in Russian but in its original language - English- it is even more forceful. For some reason this incredibly powerful novel is decaying in obscurity; nobody I've asked appears to know of its existence. Anyway, after reading a good chunk of it, I came across Ideas as Opiates by Tears for Fears:

The music seemed almost to be inspired by The Gadfly, not only in its lyrics (which, incidentally, are quite simple)  but in its very mood. The soothing, yet piercing vocals, over the background of a droning, drilling and simulatenously calming beat... all of it elicits a painful but resilient nonchalance, the same emotion that permeates Voynich's novel.  As far as I know, the song was in fact influenced by the ideas of the American psychologist Arthur Janov, who developed the idea of primal therapy. But it was certainly interesting to see its connections to the book I'm reading. 

That's one of the things I love about music- when it unexpectedly melds with another experience, be it the experience of a book, or a film, or simply an event. Suddenly the emotion behind the music takes on a multitude of different dimensions, which results in something vivid and simultanouelsy indefinable.

13 March 2015

Bear with me

I acknowledge that this blog may be badly written. But please bear with me. It's a work in progress...

DID YOU KNOW: A koala bear is not a bear. It is a marsupial.

9 March 2015

1930s Drawn Sound technique

I find these early technologies developed in the USSR in the 30s simply incredible. Voinov's rendition of the Rachmaninov prelude is so captivating...