YXIMALLOO

A jumping man wearing tights gives the appealing description of a postpunk musician. The opening movement toward the camera seems to be the opposite of such a premise. Here is the end of the popularities ensuring the comfort of a retreat focusing on the management of youthful flow. The tunes by Yximalloo are popular, simple, straightforward, stirring up a moment that their track refers to briefly; they are less popular for those who only count the number of records sold, they are not popular as they are so full of spontaneity in front of any object likely to ring, so casual in front of the complexity of the recollections in them.
Yximalloo? Is it a tongue twister for Dubliners so as to pronounce his name in a Japanese way? Is it an international term for someone like him used to the underground scenes of New York, Tokyo…? Is it the avatar of a character in front of a Wii console waking up with inevitable squirming? Tadhg O’Sullivan and Feargal Ward film audio tapes at length, not out of nostalgia about a medium now left behind by manufacturers, but in order to insist on the source of a wild creativity contained in these very soft and short-lasting tape coils. Tadhg and Feargal dare to show the silences of a couple, Nao and Ger, the mandatory banality and the discreet complicity. They know that the intensity of Naofumi Ishimaru’s art undoes these realities. The fragility, doubts, madness of an artist can be legitimate when most of what he makes out of it is shown bluntly. (GG)