"There is a lot of unresolved tension throughout the two releases inaugurating their Noion Music label. From start to finish
Filling a listening space with music as fluid occupies a vessel, or smoke might circulate through a room, every new moment of
Musical lines
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Chuck van Zyl
Music inspired by another art form has always been there, and like any other, it can range from truly inspired to really pretentious and practically unlistenable.
Trying to go the inspired and inventive way are two already established musicians – Emmy-nominated Austrian composer Paul Haslinger (Tangerine Dream) and French composer Christian Wittman (Lightwave). For their new project, the duo has formed a special record label, Noion, that is starting by creating works inspired by big names in literature, with the first two releases being devoted to French poet Stéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898) and Argentine writer and poet Jorge Luis Borges (1899–1986)
Of course, having in mind what Haslinger and Wittman have previously done, and based on the first release, simply titled Mallarmé, we get (and will keep getting) music that some label as atmospheric minimalism, that is, sound exploration, and genre-defying music – from ambient to contemporary classical and drone.
Many might consider that broad musical spectrum as overpopulated in these times, and you really have to be inventive and know what you are doing to make it all work, with Haslinger & Wittman adding another level of complexity to their concept – trying to draw the right elements from literature and transferring them into music, conveying at the same time the spirit of the written word while including elements that will indicate why it is those words that inspired them.
Yet, with all of their background and musical experience and knowledge, Haslinger & Wittman successfully turn their concept on Mallarmé into music that is both complex and understandable at the same time.
Greg Fenton reviews Paul Haslinger and Christian Wittman – Mallarmé – noion Music
Four expansive pieces of music inspired by Mallarmé’s Un coup de dés jamais n’abolira le hasard are brought together in this artistic collaboration, which feels revelatory and invites the listener into a bold, deeply immersive musical world. The enduring power of the verse is signalled by the cover shot of Stéphane Mallarmé, whose stare, infused with purposeful meaning, dates from 1890. And while the impulse may have originated then, this album is filled with robust, modern discourse.
Apart from stating the obvious that musically the sounds used to form the compositions radiate as much contemporary energy as they gently echo the past, there is something transformative as you are transported into a whirlwind of emotions, sensory lifts and falls, amid a wild, exulted variety of imaginary memory. Given the passages are lengthy, tone and atmosphere are given free rein to expand and shift at will, which only heightens anticipation of change and its host of invigorating complexities. It is quite amazing to witness the physical shift as pieces of music move from melancholy to the more sublime, pausing at all points far and wide, very much like a deep investigation in motion, with emotionally persuasive ideas captured in the formation of sounds.
At times, the piano becomes the emotional centrepiece, almost singing; elsewhere, hot-wired electronics take over, driven by a radical interpretation of their consequences in a mixed-up world, or through evocative swells of synthesiser pads and strokes of modular sequencing. Throughout, it’s the extraordinary depth of communication—the constant interplay of light and dark—that makes this recording so compelling. Quite exceptional.
We are confronted with sketches, with explorations of acoustic relationships and sound processing that could be perceived as a minimal anamorphosis of musique concrète. These suspended works evoke less external landscapes than inner introspections, cinematic atmospheres, spaces of emotion, and intimate resonance.
Christian Wittman and Paul Haslinger have a complete mastery of this territory, where listening becomes a sensitive and immersive experience.
One is reminded of On Land by Brian Eno, though without its organic quality. A musical abstraction that is nevertheless not deconstructed, best experienced in semi-darkness, allowing the listener to perceive its smallest interstices."
Thierry Moreau (Design, Digital creation)
Dear friends,
I am delighted to announce the release of “Mallarmé” and “Borges,” two albums created in collaboration with Paul Haslinger, on our brand new label, noion music.
Born from nearly four decades of creative dialogue between the two of us, noion is a home for works that explore literature, memory, atmosphere, and deep listening.
Inspired by the worlds of Stéphane Mallarmé and Jorge Luis Borges, these inaugural releases offer the first glimpse into a broader artistic vision—one where sound becomes a field of experience and listening an act of discovery.
This is only the beginning. Alongside future collaborations, noion will continue to explore new creative territories at the intersection of ambient, contemporary classical, minimalism, and sound art, inviting listeners into immersive sonic worlds shaped by curiosity, reflection, and imagination.
Our music is online on Bandcamp and on all the streaming / download platforms (Spotify, Deezer, Amazon, Qobuz etc etc….)
Listen to "Mallarmé" and "Borges" in HD! Link
Why start a new music label? And what is a label?
The definition that immediately comes to mind is that a label is an organization that produces and markets music. It can also be defined as a brand, serving to build audience loyalty. It is typically run by one or more people responsible for day-to-day management, marketing, distribution, and, of course, artistic direction—both musical and visual. But a label also consists of the musicians—bands or solo artists—under contract with it, who entrust the label with the production and release of an album.
There was a time when the landscape was relatively simple: there were the “majors”—Universal Music, Sony, Warner—and the independents, sometimes affiliated with a major for distribution, such as ECM.
Today, we’re witnessing an explosion of “net labels” or “boutique labels”—more or less formal structures, often highly specialized in a particular niche, even a specific musical niche—that frequently compensate for their small-scale, artisanal nature with added artistic value, for example in terms of design and packaging.
These new-generation independent labels operate on Bandcamp and sometimes also on download and streaming platforms. They may release music exclusively in digital format, but sometimes also in physical form, such as CDs and vinyl.
So why create a new label like NOION?
Our primary concern is autonomy and (almost) total freedom to define an artistic policy that reflects who we are.
NOION is a roadmap focused on the future and a creative horizon, rather than merely a place for archiving and preservation. The label invites us to build a long-term project and to establish a creative and innovative platform—one that is centered on a strong musical identity while remaining open to possible evolutions and shifts, driven by technological innovations, our new musical concepts, and the serendipity of encounters and projects.
NOION is built around the concept of “Deep Listening”: a tribute to the pioneering work of Pauline Oliveros and the artists who collaborated with her, particularly on the New Albion label.
We thus stand in opposition to consumable, disposable music and to the superficial, continuous streaming of sanitized playlists.
NOION aims to offer music to be listened to, not merely heard.
The label will focus on depth and slowness, inviting the listener to engage in a reflective and dreamlike immersion.
Our albums will be “open works,” in Umberto Eco’s sense—without instructions, without a prescribed use, but open to the unpredictable adventures of listening.
This will be the standard for our upcoming productions.
NOION: a label, a path, a horizon.
I summarize it below, in English.
Marion Dupont examines how music listening has evolved from a largely collective cultural practice into a highly individualized activity closely linked to emotional regulation and self-management. Although music is one of the most widespread cultural activities today—more common than reading or video gaming—it is rarely discussed in depth despite its growing influence on everyday life.
Today, music accompanies people almost constantly: when waking up, working, exercising, commuting, relaxing, or falling asleep. Thanks to smartphones, streaming platforms, and portable devices, individuals can instantly select a soundtrack that matches or shapes their mood. Statistics from the French Ministry of Culture illustrate this transformation: while only 9% of French people listened to music daily in 1973, the figure has risen to 57% today. Among young adults, music consumption is nearly universal.
The article draws heavily on the work of American sociologist and musicologist Tia DeNora, particularly her influential book Music in Everyday Life (2000). Rather than asking what music means, DeNora investigated what people do with music in their daily lives. Through interviews with middle-class women, she discovered that music serves numerous practical functions: it helps people wake up, relax, focus, prepare for social events, cope with unpleasant situations, remember the past, or process emotions such as grief.
According to DeNora, these diverse uses are based on a shared belief that music possesses transformative power. People do not simply listen to music for entertainment; they actively use it to influence their emotions, perceptions, memories, and even their identities. She therefore describes music listening as a “technology of the self,” borrowing a concept from philosopher Michel Foucault. In this sense, music becomes a tool through which individuals shape their behavior, emotions, and sense of self in order to navigate modern life.
Several scholars expanded on DeNora’s ideas. Israeli sociologist Ori Schwarz argues that music functions both as a way of designing one’s environment and of shaping one’s inner emotional life. Whether accompanying a meal, a workout, household chores, or intimate moments, music is increasingly used to create desired atmospheres and emotional states.
The article emphasizes that this transformation has been closely linked to technological developments. Before the nineteenth century, listening to music generally required either performing it oneself or attending a specific venue such as an opera house, church, or concert hall. The invention of recording technologies, including the phonograph and gramophone, allowed music to enter private homes and be replayed repeatedly. This changed the listening experience by separating music from the circumstances of its original performance.
However, music remained a largely social activity for much of the twentieth century. Records were expensive, and listening often took place in family settings or communal spaces. A major shift occurred in 1979 with the introduction of Sony’s Walkman. By allowing individuals to listen privately through headphones, the Walkman created what researcher Michael Bull called a “sonic cocoon.” Music became portable, personal, and detached from specific locations, enabling listeners to construct unique soundtracks for everyday experiences.
The transition to digital music further accelerated this trend. File-sharing platforms such as Napster, Kazaa, and eMule gave users unprecedented access to vast musical libraries, while MP3 players and Apple’s iPod made it easier to organize personalized playlists. As a result, people increasingly curated their own emotional and aesthetic environments.
The article also connects these developments to broader digital culture. Contemporary users often build extensive collections of music, images, and videos designed to evoke specific moods. This tendency reflects the rise of “vibes” and “aesthetics” in online culture, where individuals consciously create emotional atmospheres through carefully selected media. According to art historian Valentina Tanni, this practice is part of a wider culture of self-optimization. Just as people track their sleep, calories, or productivity, they use music to regulate concentration, relaxation, and emotional well-being.
Yet this desire for control may reveal deeper anxieties. Tanni argues that the pursuit of emotional optimization is partly a response to social insecurity, economic instability, environmental concerns, and political uncertainty. Music offers what sociologist Raphaël Nowak calls “ontological security”: a reassuring sense of continuity and identity in an unpredictable world.
At the same time, control over musical experiences is increasingly shifting from listeners to digital platforms. Streaming services such as Spotify, Deezer, and Apple Music have transformed moods into marketable categories, offering playlists for relaxation, concentration, sadness, or exercise. Recommendation algorithms now analyze users’ habits, locations, and routines in order to anticipate what they might want to hear. As a result, music consumption is becoming less centered on artistic preferences and more focused on functional uses.
Nevertheless, the article concludes on a nuanced note. While platforms attempt to predict and influence listening behavior, human beings remain fundamentally unpredictable. People are not fully transparent to themselves, nor can algorithms completely understand their emotions or desires. Despite growing technological mediation, listeners still retain the capacity to seek novelty, change their habits, and be surprised by unexpected musical experiences. Music therefore remains a space where personal freedom, social influences, technological systems, and individual creativity continue to interact in complex ways.
Bibliography
Tia DeNora, Music in Everyday Life , Cambridge University Press, 2000.
Esteban Buch, Playlist. Musique et sexualité,
Paris, MF (éditions), 2022.
Martin Kaltenecker (dir.), L’Écoute. De l’Antiquité au XIXe siècle
Paris, MF / Philharmonie de Paris, 2024.
Valentina Tanni, Vibes Lore Core. Esthétique de l’évasion numérique,
Paris, Audimat, 2025.
Juliette Volcler, L’Orchestration du quotidien. Design sonore et écoute au XXIe siècle
, Paris, La Découverte, 2022.
This concept is paradoxical. We intuitively imagine listening as a form of attention that unfolds over time, horizontally, in a diachronic manner. Depth introduces the notion of space—a layering of levels starting from the surface. Deep listening, therefore, goes beyond simply following the unfolding of a sound stream to delve beneath its surface. Is there a limit to deep listening, or can we always go deeper? And what exactly do we hear when we go beneath the surface of sounds?
I believe that deep listening is first and foremost a psychological and perceptual phenomenon: a particular mode of auditory concentration, in which one focuses on the sound, here and now, gradually abstracting from the entire context and everything that might distract. It engages the listener’s imagination and memory and involves immersion in the flow of sound.
Deep listening is not a passive reception, but a process of constructing and objectifying the sound stimulus in its vibrational materiality—in its details, its pulsations, its own spatiality, its harmonic expansions, and its quasi-organic unfolding.
From this perspective, it can be applied to various types of music—a jazz quintet, a piano sonata, a Bach cantata, an opera aria, an Indian raga, or, of course, an experimental or electronic piece.
Deep listening is also, first and foremost, the listening of the musician(s) themselves, at the very moment they are performing their music. It is at that very moment, in fact, that they give the music its depth, its sonic stratigraphy, and its momentum. There would thus be “deep composing” and “deep performing,” which may share certain characteristic traits: allowing sounds to diffuse through space, streamlining the composition to focus on the essential, and introducing a sense of profound necessity into the unfolding of the music. This also involves choosing a slower pace and spatializing the music through the natural reverberation of the performance venue or electronic sound processing.
Deep listening is, of course, distinct from superficial listening, where music is merely background noise to which one pays attention—at best—only intermittently. Such music is interchangeable and can serve a utilitarian function, like Spotify playlists. Music intended for deep listening is heard for its own sake, in its singularity and uniqueness. It absorbs the listener, just as the listener immerses themselves in it.
