Stephen O’Malley’s already unusual career has certainly taken some odd and unexpected turns in recent years, as the erstwhile amplifier-worshipper currently has both an insanely ambitious and jazz-inspired avant-metal masterpiece (Monoliths and Dimensions) and a Scott Walker collaboration under his belt.  The latest unlikely development is that Frédéric Blondy recruited O’Malley in 2014 to compose for the French improv orchestra ONCIEM, helpfully noting that he should be "punk rock" about it.  Ethos-wise, O'Malley did not disappoint in that regard, cavalierly disregarding some very key perceived limitations for various orchestral instruments.  In a musical sense, however, Gruidés is a wonderfully droning, heaving, and dissonant epic of modern composition (and all done without distortion or a wall of amplifiers).
DDS
In general, I have always found orchestral albums to be something like the last refuge of the damned, generally arising when an artist is either running out of ideas or egotistically hoping to finally prove to the world that he or she is a serious artist.  Unsurprisingly, they rarely go well, more often than not erring on the side of bombastic excess.  That said, a man known for performing in a black cloak enshrouded in fog before an intimidating mass of amplifiers probably does not have to worry about anyone accusing him of excess anytime soon.  If anything, Gruidés dials down Sunn O)))’s excesses, showing that O'Malley can be every bit as fearsome without the benefit of either electricity or showmanship.  Also, Gruidés is not much of a radical departure from Sunn O))) at all–it is just that the droning guitars have been replaced with droning strings and horns and that the piece in question is a little more long-form than usual (clocking in at roughly 35 minutes).
Aside from its initial fanfare and harrowing crescendo, the bulk of Gruidés is devoted to sustained, uneasily harmonizing strings and woodwinds.  That is where the "punk rock" aspect of the composition comes into play, as holding a single note for several minutes presented a serious endurance test for ONCIEM’s hapless woodwinds.  The resultant effect seems to have been worth the effort though, as Gruidés simmers and undulates beautifully.  Also, the dense and shifting mass of sustained tones takes on an increasingly smeared and ominous feel as overtones mass and bleed together.  Later in the piece, the churning orchestral thrum is further augmented by hollow, gloomy, and broken-sounding beat that builds into an increasingly dense and sickly sounding wall of buzzing, clashing drones.  To his credit, O'Malley does not quite go for an apocalyptic "sensory overload" finale, even if the climactic horns sometimes sound that way: for all of its crushing power, Gruidés is ingeniously undercut by a very wounded-sounding and lurching pulse, balancing its final display of majestic force with an equal (and welcome) helping of grotesquerie.
Notably, I am fairly casual Sunn O))) fan, so I did not have extremely high expectations for this album, basically anticipating another likable, but easily forgotten side-project.  Consequently, I was quite surprised by how much I enjoyed Gruidés –it is actually one of my favorite O’Malley albums to date.  It would have been impressive enough just to successfully translate the Sunn O))) vision into orchestral form, but O'Malley managed to go one bold step further and create something that should please both his existing fans and fans of the uglier and more adventurous side of modern composition. Gruidés is an impressively satisfying, inventive, and disquieting tour de force.
 
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