collecting sound works about gardens
Acquired Stardust
i don't do bad sauce passes
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noise dept.
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Keni
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Mike Driver
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Not today Justin

roma★
DEAR READER
Jules of Nature
todays bird

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Show & Tell

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cherry valley forever
seen from Netherlands

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@embodiedlistening
collecting sound works about gardens
I'm sitting in the waiting hall for the eurostar in London Saint Pancras. I visited 4 cultural institutions today (I'm trying to say I'm a bit overstimulated and tired). Above are the notes from a video seen at Camden Arts Centre called 'Before and After (Still In Progress), 2023 - ongoing', video, colour, sound, 73min 15sec.
The part of the video that I saw was the documentation of a performance in a Berlin art gallery. Imagine a white cube, the artist is on a small stage, with a microphone, he is well dressed, he wears a kippah. He draws comparisons between himself and a comedian amongst more existential questions from the screenshot of my notes above. He repeatedly thanks the audience for giving him a platform, their time and attention. Even if I think this comes from a humble place, his taking up my time and attention grate against this gratitude (his time is finite, my time is finite, and so is yours). His stream of consciousness monologue seems indulgent and I'm not sure what he's truly trying to say. He hints at some larger truths that he dare not mention in current contexts, they seem to haunt him. And his lack of direct approach also haunts me. What is he trying to say? What does everyone in the room know he is hinting at, that I can't even begin to guess given my naive context of seeing this work as a documentation of a performance from x many years ago? Is this the awkward we could all dwell in together, ethically? Emphatically?
Part of his analogy about everyone sensing the same emotion/feeling together includes the metaphor of a dinner. We all eat the same meal but the digestion is singular. Although we could agree that it is tasteful and have tasted the same meal, my own body must digest this (and it is implied that each body may have different responses to this process). I bring this up because I am now eating a beef & hot horseradish sandwich from the M&S just outside the waiting lounge and can find a few awkward comparisons. Eating this sandwich is both a collective and individual experience. M&S make enough so that the taste may be replicated, but package them individually. I taste what many have tasted, or perhaps even will taste. I also must now admit that this reminds me of the exhibition as I didn't perceive the word 'hot' when buying it. And definitely it has an affect. Namely: there, a feeling! Burning in my nose and throat! Hot horse radish (maybe more of you know it as wasabi) evokes a quite localised sensory response for me. Anyway, my point is, how will I ever convene this experience as collective and emphatic unless I exchange with another who has, have or will eat this too? I am isolated in this very banal M&S sandwich experience.
Bordowitz approaches this topic of sharing lived experience and tries to mediate it in very different ways to me. I'm curious, because his articulation of lived experience is grounded in something identifiably marginal and political, namely surviving as an HIV positive gay man. I feel the pressure of also articulating something so clearly defined and marginal that situates my own practice, that is engaged in mediating lived experiences, but I come up empty - or not quite empty - more like again 'there, a feeling!' but this feeling is something soft and mysterious. Something like fog, fluid and indiscernible, ephemeral, shifting and.
-</----/~`----<`>-----*-
Now I'm on the train. My ears are popping. Another shared experience that seems both isolated and collective.
Clay slip dip process
Joan Jonas in 140 Artists' Ideas for Planet Earth. Edited by Hans Ulrich Obrist and Koastas Stasinopoulos, 2021.
An example map of the creative process (from a fellow zhdk phd candidate)
The Basic Neurocellular Patterns (formerly called The Basic Neurological Patterns), or BNP, are potential patterns of movement inherent first in the movement of fluid through the cellular membranes and then recorded and organized in the nervous system. They exist, both phylogenetically in the animal kingdom and ontogenetically in the developmental stages of the human infant. The BNP are stimulated into existence through relationship and interaction with the environment. They are called forth based on the relative simplicity or complexity of their structure and function and the supporting and challenging conditions in the environment
>> Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen
Reflections on Begüm Erciyas' Hands Made at the KFdA 2024.
I'm sitting in a cabin, a curtain shields me from the person sitting next to me. There is a spot-lit table crossing into both of our booths.
I am writing on my phone:
"Do you not want to participate?"
But, I guess your actions speak for themselves.
In the event of the non-participation of my anonymous partner, I felt a lot of responsibility to perform. There was no 'meet half way'. I found myself in the role of performer instead of participator. There was a voyeurism that I did not expect. The actions proposed by the score were not comfortable to perform because I was performing for another who did not want to share, or hold a desire to explore the possibilities of hand movements. There was somehow a giving and spectatorship of my hand that was highlighted by the actions proposed in the score but was not reciprocated in the gesture of the other.
What could have been an anonymous game guided by an artistic score on hands and labour suddenly became a study on power dynamics and consent.
My willingness to participate and their non-participation was weighted and blocked my full immersion into the score. The power dynamic was something that could have been negotiated and consented to before the performance... But how? The participation of our hands was made clear in the text about the work. Did it need to be reiterated? How does the artist navigate and intervene in the (non)participation of the others? Especially when the entire work is pre-recorded and installed. How does one navigate boundaries and consent of the anonymous other in participatory art?
A collection of scores that focus on listening. Useful for building a different range of deep listening skills.
Sometimes things just crack and fall apart...
Sitting on a gym ball, bouncing in my studio. The door pulses in relation to my movement.
"Antoni believes that our alienated relationship to our own bodies has contributed to our destruction of the environment. Our culture treats the body as a mere vehicle to carry around our thinking mind. If we are willing to exploit our bodies for the sake of our goals and desires, it is no great leap to exploit the natural world for the same reason. here-ing offers an opportunity to return to the body through intimately relating to the land. In feeling as though we belong to the land, we are propelled to care for the land that we belong to."
The complete disbelief of a departure.
Honestly, I just keep coming back to this... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hp1wo1irkQA
Two group mappings and reflection with some of my students from ESA Tourcoing in February 2023 on Viv Corringham's Soniferous Spaces soundwalk.
that whisk sound just builds so much tension!!!
A listening experience. August 17, 2023.
A listening experience. Brussels canal, August 23, 2023.