Brian Olewnick in Bagatellen 4/1/07:

Chandan Narayan, a postdoctoral fellow at the Institute for Research in Cognitive Science of the University of Pennsylvania researching acoustic phonetics and also an expert in Sanskrit, manages to find time to freely improvise on the autoharp as well. A member of Glass Plates (with Jeffrey Allport and Robert Pederson) as well as a collaborator with violinist Angharad Davies, Narayan here presents eight brief improvisations on an instrument you don’t come across to frequently in this neck of the woods, the autoharp.

The pieces are entirely acoustic although each is approached using extended techniques of one sort or another. There’s more bowing and scraping than there is plucking and Narayan seems to enjoy particularly serrated sounds, the sort of result you might derive from drawing a nail rasp across the strings. Occasionally, echoes of its more traditional resonances can be heard, hanging ghostlike in the air for a couple of seconds but they’re quickly dispersed by the more earthly tones rising from worried metal and wood. Sometimes, the technique employed gets in the way of the piece as such, obscuring sounds themselves, attracting too much attention; other times, it passes unnoticed. It’s these latter moments, as heard on the first track (all untitled), that are the most successful, where the music just floats out there, a bit mysteriously. We’re not in Laraaji territory by any means, more akin to that inhabited by Ms. Davies’ brother, albeit without an e-bow. Another musician I found myself thinking of was Alfredo Costa Monteiro, who demonstrates a similar brand of visceral, physical attachment to his instrument. For myself, about half the time I thought the miniatures worked, about half I felt there was something lacking although I will say that the more I listened, the more I tended to fall under their spell. That missing something may simply be a collaborator and I’d be very interested to hear Narayan working in tandem with one or more fellow musicians; I get the feeling he’d be a fine listener.

As is, “Eight Vignettes for Solo Autoharp” is more in the nature of a sampler laying out propositions from Narayan, observations on the nature of his autoharp, on its own inherent phonetics. It’s an intriguing set by a musician from whom I’ll be curious to hear more.

 

Frans de Waard in VITAL:

CHANDAN NARAYAN - EIGHT VIGNETTES FOR SOLO AUTOHARP (CDR, self-released)
If you don't know what an autoharp is and you type in some search engine and look for images of it, you are bound to see some musicians of a folk type and although I am not sure what Chandan Narayan looks like, his solo autoharp has nothing to do with folk music. Narayan is also a member of Glass Plates (see also Vital Weekly 478), where he also plays 'extended autoharp'. On this somewhat short release (eight tracks which last twenty-three minutes) he displays his various skills in playing this instrument. Amplifying it with a contact microphone, rubbing the case, plucking the strings, playing it with a bow or some such: each track is a showcase of possibilities. Everything was played in an improvising manner, without any overdubs edits or fades. It's a short release, but long enough. To concentrate on this may take some effort, as it's sometimes not easy to hear, but throughout it's a well-done disc. With a nice cover in an edition of 100 copies. (FdW)

Massimo Ricci in Touching Extremes:

CHANDAN NARAYAN - Eight vignettes for solo autoharp (Self release)

The 23 minutes of this set of autoharp improvisations by Narayan should be enough to raise the interest level of many people. Those of you who love the sound of wood and strings closely miked in order to bring out the most minuscule fragments of their inner life will surely enjoy the irregular plucking and scraping applied to the autoharp by this resident of Ann Arbor, Michigan, who wants to change the perspectives of what people should expect from this typical American instrument. Chandan elicits visionary resonances (never too consonant anyway) and "zinging" harmonics with a tangible "harsh delicacy" which reminded me of Rhodri Davies' harp playing. You have to listen to these restrained reflections several times to be rewarded by a surprisingly fresh music which is not adulterated by studio treatments of any sort. The disc comes in a fine limited 100-copy edition with beautiful artwork.