To tell it from Aphasic Forest, the studio space of Denver’s Lee Evans, a “modular synthesist” as he puts it, is equal parts Santa’s workshop and Dr. Frankenstein’s lab. In fact, Shelley’s mad scientist lacked Evans’ hubris. He sought to create an organism, not an entire ecosystem. From within the circuitry of his synths, Evans summons forth the flora and fauna of his stereophonic forest, concocting a vocabulary for his fantastical food chain.
His driving notion of biomimicry is more comprehensive than just that, though. The architecture of Evans’ pieces implies the complex macroscopic patterns of nature in motion, its cycles, trajectories, and interactions. With emulations of the xylophonic family of instruments and echoes of Riley and Reich, sublime melodic passages emerge from amid a gentle cacophony of curious theoretical creatures in these compositions.
It all flows like sweet liquid, glittering and percolating. There aren’t any biting bugs in this neck of the woods, no sightings of lions, tigers, or bears. Evans has cultivated an aural environment that’s tranquil, yet intensely alive.