I DON'T KNOW WHERE WE ARE GOING BUT IT SURE SOUNDS NICE

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Let Them Eat Cake. Film by Jack Moore.

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More photos from the exhibition.

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More photos from the Exhibition at Gallery 40, including Saxophonist Colin Tully.

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More photos from the exhibition at Gallery 40, including saxophonist Colin Tully.

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Photos of the ‘I don’t Know Where We Are Going But It Sure Sounds Nice Exhibition’ held at Gallery 40, Brighton.

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(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vujr_oeoR0I)

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More photos.

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Photos, in yellow.

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Soundwalk for a Lonely City. Blackboard boxes containing chalk, headphones, and instructions for a walk are left around city parks. Participants stumble upon the boxes, open, listen, and follow the instructions therein. By using the chalk, participants can amend or remove the instructions as they see fit. 

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Soundwalk for a Lonely City. Blackboard boxes containing chalk, headphones, and instructions for a walk are left around city parks. Participants stumble upon the boxes, open, listen, and follow the instructions therein. By using the chalk, participants can amend or remove the instructions as they see fit. 

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The Rights Room installation, in collaboration with inclusive artist Layla Tully. A week long exhibition space encouraging critique and discussion of the Human Rights Act. Participants were given the opportunity to discuss the act, amend it, and record a soundscape with objects relating to each article of the act. The use of abstract objects allowed participants to consider the legislation in more abstract terms, and to leave - alongside any amendments to the act - a lasting contribution to the ongoing debate held throughout the week. In addition, the act was read aloud in the street at hourly intervals.

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The Rights Room installation in collaboration with inclusive artist Layla Tully. A week long exhibition space encouraging critique and discussion of the Human Rights Act. Participants were given the opportunity to discuss the act, amend it, and record a soundscape with objects relating to each article of the act. The use of abstract objects allowed participants to consider the legislation in more abstract terms, and to leave - alongside any amendments to the act - a lasting contribution to the ongoing debate held throughout the week. In addition, the act was read aloud in the street at hourly intervals.

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Mall Choreography. 

 A text score for innocuous action. Instructions are given for the private undertaking of everyday gestures, to be performed in a closed public space. Everyone present gets given a different card, and instructed not to show them to each other. The first performance was in an art gallery, the second in a night club, and the third in a shopping mall. Due to the nature of the material, it is impossible to know whether another person is undertaking a score or simply going about their own business. As such, anyone who reads the score is immediately participating in it, since even the choice not to follow the score could be perceived as an undertaking of the score. Not participating is no different than participating. The idea was to challenge the preconceptions of who is capable or might choose to get involved in contemporary art. The visitors to the shopping mall, for instance, were hugely dismissive of the score, and yet, by virtue of the fact that their involvement was presumed from the moment they were handed a slip of paper, the content did not have to be ‘simplified’ to better cater to those who, from lack of experience, might not ‘get it’. By this same token, it was also a political exercise - by assuming the capacity of everyone, it highlighted the different attitudes towards new creative stimuli offered by the different types of people who attend the disparate spaces of shopping malls and art galleries.

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5 Nights Under The Pier.

5 walks, undertaken at night, between the marina and the pier.

Each night, I film whatever I find on route, resulting in a short film, for which I spend 5 nights composing a soundtrack. 

When complete, I project the film/sound work beneath the pier itself, inviting different improvisers to join me in exploring the space.

The improvisers involved were as follows - 

Hardworking Families - a piece involving beating and burying a metal chair.

The Bald Knobbers - a ritualistic work for electric guitar, snare drum, percussion and various wind instruments.

Kev Nickells & Ecka Davies - a duet for cello and violin, followed by a dialogic discussion on the nature of the event.

Barnabas Yianni - an electro-acoustic work drawn from the live-input capture of the seas waves.

 The Hairy Kuntz - a theatrical madness played out upon acoustic instruments and the ballasts of the pier itself.

Ingrid Plum - an ethereal, tape-based piece for vocals and prayer bowls. 

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Momo: a public reading. 

Starting at 9 a.m and continuing until around 4 p.m, the entirety of a children’s book is read to office workers on their cigarette and lunch breaks. 

Utilising the offices own benches and recreation areas as a space of performance, the reading is performed ‘loudly, to no one’ over an extended time period, with the themes of the book - the joys of time-wasting, a fear of ‘grey-suited men’, and a homage to work as something to be cherished not tolerated - born out in the relationship created between performer and worker.

Largely ignored (or at least an attempted ignorance) by the office employees, upon lunchtime a local pre-school were invited to join me for the reading, resulting in a chaotic mix of office-workers and toddlers sharing the same space in dramatically different ways. The once tempered, stern and monetary driven landscape, is transformed momentarily into a place of play and performance.

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Water Walk.

A short film constructed from 5 walks between the marina and and the pier, shot over 5 consecutive nights.

Each night I engaged with the various people that make up the beaches community - inebriated stragglers from the seafront clubs, the solitary man braving the crashing waves at the tip of the groyne, a family of eight dancing in the darkness. 

There was also non-human inhabitants of the beach. The foxes and gulls and dogs barking ominously into the night. The omni-present wind whipping the boathouse shutters into a frenzy. The falling rain that dims the vision, clouds every sight with a sheen of uncertainty. The crashing waves, an orchestra beneath the feet.

After 5 consecutive nights filming, the 5 nights following were spent writing a soundtrack for the piece, and editing it all together. It was then projected, again for 5 nights, directly on to the bottom of pier, accompanied each night by different local improvisers. Due to the nature of the tides, each showing the space would change in shape, size, and volume, resulting in a work that, though ostensibly the same each night, resulted in a markedly different experience.