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I just discovered there's an insert in the packaging for recomposed pack that details the production process. Here it is. I tried to break it out in paragraphs to keep it organized:
"ReComposed is the result of a gradual process, even the 'Intro' was set down at the very first session -- in Detroit, Michigan, which is and has been the center of the development of Afro-American techno music for about 20 years. And it was about 20 years ago that the recordings by the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra of the works, which the two artists have used for their project, were released for the first time on CD. Moritz von Oswald told me that the commissioning company wanted them to use an historic recording by the Berlin Philharmonic under Herbert von Karajan's baton, but that he expressed the wish to use unmixed multi-track recordings in order to better employ the various instruments. Sure enough, recordings (with 16 separate tracks) of this nature existed, among them precisely the three works that Moritz von Oswald and Carl Craig, whom Moritz spontaneously invited to work on the project with him, wanted to use: Maurice Ravel's 'Bolero' and 'Rapsodieespagnole,' and Modest Mussorgsky's 'Pictures at an Exhibition' in Ravel's orchestration.
After a first meeting in Moritz's home town, Berlin, where they listened to the original Deutsche Grammophon recordings from 1985, 1986 and 1987, Moritz set to work on the pre-production of various bits and pieces they had chosen, isolating certain instruments or groups of instruments, separating them out from various microphone-tracks, and mixing them anew. Then he took everything to Carl Craig in Detroit where the two musicians (both highly acclaimed techno innovators ever since the birth of the genre) sat down with their instruments -first and foremost a synthesizer, then old, analogue but, (as Carl Craig told me)legendary drum machines, and traditional percussion such as woodblocks and chime bells, even a double-bass -- and improvised a prelude during which sounds and patterns were created, reminiscent of Brian Eno's collaboration 30 years ago with the German electronic duo Cluster, and which I should like to call Common or Garden Electronics (in contrast to cultivated Techno Soul) and which was in those days a minor German export hit following in the wake of Krautrock. Carl Craig had already had a great success in the early 1990s with a version of Manuel Göttsching's historic (if not epochal) post-Kraut/proto-house title E2E, which Moritz von Oswald and Mark Ernestus later remixed. (What a wonderful term -- Afro-Germanic -- which arose out of the afro-diasporic Underground Resistance-Zentralkomitee!)
An everyday situation: one goes out of the house into the road and immediately recognizes a good friend approaching. My first thought is often to cross over the road, hopefully unnoticed, or even duck into a house entrance. And I had a similar feeling with the first appearance of the percussive, repetitive Bolero motif following the introduction. Here is the first clear indication that samples were used, and in this case precisely how the composer had intended, how he had meant them. (I had the same sort of feeling with the following track, where the trumpets are taken from Mussorgksy's Samuel Goldenberg and Schmuyle.) But I soon overcame my irritation and plunged happily into the hypnotic maelstrom of the slowly unfolding 'Movement 1.' It is certainly interesting that sampling often employs a blatant motif which is then worked on with imagination, and taken beyond recognition, which in turn often leads to something new (better, not merely borrowed). I asked Moritz if this was not rather similar to classical music, where leitmotifs are employed. He replied that that was the whole point of the exercise (creating by doing). The tonal leitmotif of the composition (except for a secondary motif on the harp) was dropped on account of it being too obvious (for fruitful re-use). The rhythmic patterns of 'Bolero' were another matter, however; for Moritz von Oswald, 'Bolero' is the very first classical composition with a rhythmic loop upon which a melody is built. Carl Craig also declared that this leitmotif was absolutely indispensable. Suddenly, the sound explodes way beyond that produced by a classical orchestra: subsonicbasses slide over the musical seabed.
Movement 2: Enter the Goldenberg/Schmuyle trumpets, partly as on the historical original track, but also looped, tuned, pitched and layered. And quite clearly, for all to hear, layered on top of one another we have 'Bolero,' 'Rapsodieespagnole' and 'Pictures at an Exhibition.' The whole 'friendly takeover' of the originalBolero (particularly recognizable from the rhythmic snare patterns) now possesses a certain swiftness and is high-pitched, which leads Moritz von Oswald to conclude that the well-known, popular recordings of 'Bolero' have always been performed more slowly than the composer originally intended: this music really should have 128 beats per minute. Premiered in 1928, right in the middle of the Jazz Era and already influenced by jazz, it had a great influence on the further development of jazz and on such genial forerunners of the Third Stream as the young cornettist and pianist Bix Beiderbecke. (Frank Trumbauer turned in his seat, caught Bix's attention, and nodded at an expensively dressed, bearded man, obviously not an American, who had entered and was standing with a group of Victor officials listening to the music. 'Say, Bix, any idea who that is?' Trumbauer's smile betrayed immediately that he knew something Bix had better know too, and fast. 'Nope. Looks French to me.' 'Very astute, old boy. That's Maurice Ravel.' Ravel, whose music he all but worshipped. A key figure in the French Impressionist school, master orchestrator, harmonic innovator, composer of 'Ma Mčrel'Oye' and the 'Daphnis and Chloe' suites; this man's genius had produced the monumental orchestral setting of Mussorgsky's 'Pictures at an Exhibition.' 'Oh, my God,' said Bix. 'It really is.' 'Why don't you ask him for his autograph?' said Charlie Margulis, amused at his section mate's unconcealed awe. Bix shook his head. 'I couldn't. I mean, I wouldn't dare.' That evening, Bix, Roy Bargy and other Paul Whiteman sidemen went to hear Ravel conduct the New York Philharmonic, and later spotted the composer in a speakeasy. This time Bix was not too shy to try an approach, but advanced on his table with an almost fierce determination. 'Excuse me, sir. I'm Bix Beiderbecke. May I sit down?' Ravel, presumably too surprised to even think of a reason why not, indicated an empty chair. The two were soon engrossed in animated conversation, which began with Bix saying, quite audible several tables away, 'I love everything you've ever done.' It is not certain whether the two men saw one another again, though at least one account has Ravel visiting Bix's flat in 1931 to listen to play his own piano works.
Movement 3 begins with an elegant rhythm, pepped up with bright synthetic hi-hats, which is reminiscent of the Rhenish group Kraftwerk (the Afro-German heroes of Motor City), whirling trumpets join in (see Duke Ellington's 'Trumpets No End'), and then quite suddenly a sonorous bubbling sound rises up out of the musical depths and emerges on the sparkling surface -- rather like an echo of early acid house music (have you discovered the BASF-tape at the bottom right of the cover?) -- a very welcome sound for me, which is repeated several times in the next few minutes, starts to become dominant, even silencing the brass from Goldenberg and Schmuyle and -- at last -- allows the bass drum to enter. Question: where are the samples from Deutsche Grammophon? OK, there's a very soft, little woodwind motif, but the tribal slit gong is certainly not Ravel's. Nor is the fluffy orchestra from the Intro, which pops up again to prepare us for the seamless transition to track 5 of the album, 'Movement 4,' the powerful, down-to-earth club track, the single we all want to dance to. And it is not in the least strange but liberating that now, after the 25 well-thought-out minutes which have brought us here, that all references to classical music are done away with -- and we've landed in a club. I asked Carl Craig if that was planned right from the start, and he answered: It just happened. It's all very elegant now, the bubbling sound from of the depths return, something in the music definitely begins to jack, and the fleet-footed Kraftwerk-like sound is treated to a fairly drastic saw-toothed embellishment.
Movement 4: to couple this out for a 12" vinyl LP would be logical. Perhaps, said Moritz, when I suggested this to him, and maybe with other remixes, which would carry on from this one (or lead elsewhere). I will definitely buy them, but then: I buy everything that Moritz von Oswald and Carl Craig have produced (and that is quite a lot) on their own labels (Basic Channel, with its various other sub-labels in Berlin, in partnership with Mark Ernestus, and Carl Craig's Planet-E in Detroit) and so I more or less have a whole series of their projects (mutual remixes) going back to 1993.
Over the period of one year, Carl Craig and Moritz von Oswald visited one another in Berlin and Detroit, where they created loops and made improvisations on them (just as jazz musicians do, although Carl Craig prefers to talk of jamming and not jazz music; I don't quite agree, but then, I have always considered even his earliest, completely synthetic tracks, where he jams with himself, as jazz). They opted for certain takes, which they left unchanged, and from these, they developed and set down further tracks. If one listens carefully here, a huge arch emerges which is brought to a happy conclusion.
An Interlude, filled with drones, clusters and other sonic effects, which produce a pleasant cloud of sound, prepares the way for the two last, very lengthy pieces, and it is interesting to learn that each of the final movements was mixed by just one man: Carl Craig is responsible for the opulent Movement 5, in which its classical origins are overwhelmed here and there by heroic-sounding, symphonic strikes, and one is transported to the parallel world of four-to-the-floor music; and (introduced by a cross fade) Moritz von Oswald puts his name to 'Movement 6,' which is more minimalistic, and more abstract despite prominent, almost waltz-like congas. That's quite right, said Carl, but unimportant -- it's still teamwork."
--Thomas Meinecke, September 2008
Last edited by on Sep-20-2009 at 21:14
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His sound fit the mood of the artists playing perfectly so I figure that's the reason he played on this stage. Other artists that played on the Planetary Stage: Drumcell [LA, Droid], Developer [LA, Modularz], Detroit Grand Pubahs, DeepChord presents Echospace, [a]pendics.shuffle, Joel Mull mentioned above, and a closing DJ set by the Originator himself, Juan Atkins.
Arrived with a half hour to go in [a]pendics.shuffle's set anxiously awaiting Echospace and Mistress Barbara playing in the Compression Stage. 
