Born in Italy, somewhere in the Karst plateau region between Padua and Trieste, Roberto Galati is attracted by the charm of isolated and lonely places. The roughness of the Karst plateau is the key to understand his musical motivation. “On the Karst you can smell ice in the air, you can see the vast stretch of limestone riddled with caves and sinkholes.” Galati says.
“Oneiric” is the musical incarnation of Galatis Karst impressions. The tracks are landscapes made of layers of guitars and synths. While listening to those ambient noise tracks, you really get the feeling he describes with “smelling the ice and overlooking the landscapes”.
Lawrence English sharpened the tracks with his mastering, so you really get an insight of all sounds.
Roberto Galati about “Oneiric”:
I breath in front of the glacier tongue, a fragile place which evokes here and now its entire oneiric thickness; it is him which urges me to probe the unknown abysses of my inner life. It is a breakable landscape made of spars elements combined with wise minimalism. An endless space, a huge white mantle. It is as if the world were turned off and immerged in a sort of rarefaction, an inert emptiness, a motionless ocean. In reality, events are happening all the same, but are distant, neither here nor now.
I swim in an amniotic fluid in which I only feel the rhythmic palpitation coming from my body. I do not sense spiritual life now, I savour the moment, the instant that I am living. I can feel my heart beating. There is no rational or irrational, just free abandonment to what I see and what I feel. Eternal are my movements, eternal is this moment in which I observe, eternal is my act of breathing. Here is the “alive”; here I try to grasp the timeless essence of this world.
Nothing in our vast universe can reasonably be said to be “present”.
We only are able to observe the universe from within, interacting with but a tiny portion of innumerable variables of the cosmos. We only can see a blurred image of it. There is no order in the happenings of the world. The world’s temporal structure is different from the image we have of it as humans. The mystery of time intersects with the mystery of our personal identity, with the mystery of conscience.
Above this soft and frail silence, this diffused clarity, this stillness, and within this great emptiness, tumultuous are the feelings of human beings. My feelings.
- endless space
- white mantle
- motionless ocean
- inert emptiness