Project, Process, Practice
The semester began with quite a broad and varied invitation to the idea of working with site, like a large storm cloud of inspirational vapor.
As a class we watched it solidify, and were rained on together, but no two students were struck by the same drop.
I found my site; a small pocket, which collected the droplets, and formed a pool, a lake, and finally spilled over into a stream.
At times, connecting with other rivers, or focused by obstacles it became a rapid; turbulent and unpredictable.
But it always took the path of least resistance as it snaked and forked, creating smaller creeks and offshoots; always of the same water.
Finally, it widened and slowed to form a broad delta, joining the larger ocean of other students work, only - I hope - to evaporate and rain once again.
Beyond the three individual projects and their particular features I wanted to close this journal by thinking about the broader ideas and processes I developed during the semester, and thinking about where I might go from here.
What are the core lessons I will take away from this unit?
What can I carry over to other projects (big and small) in future.
What are the transpose-able techniques?
Is there a fundamental idea here which I could carry over into an honors, masters, or PhD level project?
Ontology Ontology!
One of my key recurring themes is that of arbitrary divisions or distinctions; particularly when relating to how to clearly define objects and concepts. I’ve written a lot about these ideas but essentially the problem is how to understand the division between one thing and another, when there must be a separation for them to exist, but they only exist in relation, which is a kind of connection.
I understand these problems aren’t mine - I come to them, no more or less than I come to the rest of the world. But my intuition will only take me so far - to paraphrase Robert Irwin, you could go off and invent art all by yourself, but would there be a point? Art is relational, so to not engage with a greater history and culture, you only limit its power. I’d like to continue looking deeper into the history of the problems I hope to engage with.
Division (Ancient Greek Philosophy)
Also called dialectic, a method of definition employed by Plato, especially in his later dialogues. It consists of a complete and exact division of a genus into a series of subgenera or species. The classification corresponds to a Form in nature and was compared to dissection according to the joints. Plato used it in an attempt to answer the problem of the one and the many. As an exploration of the relation between genus and species, the method contributed to the formation of Aristotle’s logic.
- Blackwell Dictionary of Western Philosophy
In this project the ‘arbitrary’ problem appeared in the form of the edges of photos and audio. But rather than working purely through concept like I may have with other projects, developing a physical product to illustrate the idea, because of the bind to site in this unit I had an opportunity to think through something.
There was a real intersection of process and material, and given I’m interested in this type of binary-unity it makes sense to work in this way. That is, taking a somewhat grounded subject to work with (site), and then pulling at it’s loose threads: what is the nature of this thing?
I don’t have a great interest in pure philosophy - or to put it another way - if philosophy is inherently bound to language, if the love of wisdom can only be expressed in language, then I have no interest in restricting language to spoken or written text. If symbolic systems can exist in material and form, then surely the love of wisdom can be expressed through them also.
Repetition and Generation.
One method I tend to return to a lot is that of repetition, where any observable aspect of a subject can be duplicated. The result can be illuminating for a number of reasons:
The first may come from the inability to successfully duplicate the original. The missing information could be seen as either a degradation, or an evolution. Difference is then created as each new copy highlights the separation from one to another: pluralising the singular.
Through a feedback loop, repetition can destroy what is different about each copy and amplify their similarities working to distill the fundamental essence of the thing. This is a way of singularising the plural.
Repetition can also create new objects, by creating patterns across the repetitious field that can not exist as a singularity. Patterns as new subjects can then also be repeated, evolving, degrading, and distilling.
This might also be achieved in a number of ways, many of which I used in various combinations during the course of the project.
Blended Repetition - where the loop points are hidden to create seamless loops and question the ‘limitation’ of ‘limits’
Agitated Repetition - where the seams are highlighted to make a point of the join, in turn creating new objects and patterns.
Rigid Repetition - where the loop is simply repeated so it can be remembered and then importantly, ignored - so new information can be created within it as a context.
Aleatoric Repetition - where the repetition is disguised through further fragmentation and randomisation - becoming unconsciously familiar.
The original recording may also have repetition introduced into it on multiple scales...
Scale and Time
Another dimension of the singular-plural problem is time, which could be thought of as the simultaneousness of other dimensions. Time is closely bound to memory, but rather than thinking through duration, it might be considered the extent to, or reach of thought: how complex an idea can be at once.
Repetition can paradoxically bring objects and subjects to a standstill, or cause them to move. [How does it do this? {Graeve/Satie}] Animation of an object is life giving, it becomes flexible, it can evolve. Repetition forcing an object to stand still can allow it to function as a measure or guide for other objects.
Repetition can also help transpose objects from one scale into another, making them sensible to different types of thought. This of course could be a success or failure, but similarly to the repetition described above, degradation and evolution have their benefits.
Systems, Process, and Methodology.
I’m trying to stand back from my work this semester and summarise it, but I can’t get outside the project to do so. There doesn’t seem to be an objective position from which to view it.
At the start of semester when introduced to the subject of sonic and spatial environments we were invited to consider all the ways we could understand it. [methodology]
I chose a site, documented it in a number of ways, and then when reviewing the documentation noticed heavy bias, which I decided to engage with as fundamentally environmental.
That is to say, there is no environment separate from the way we perceive it, and as that perception is inherently biased - the bias itself is an element in that environment.
When trying to make work about this environmental-bias I fell back on a set of ideas about how to deal with sets of information. [methodology]
But while working, with my focus so firmly rooted in the the idea of environment and documentation, I hadn’t begun to consider my methodological bias.
[A philosophical method is a] combination of rules, assumptions, procedures, and examples determining the scope and limits of a subject and establishing acceptable ways of working within those limits to achieve truth.
- Blackwell Dictionary of Western Philosophy
I doubt this is something I can get away from, but I think it’s going to become more important to be conscious of how I work, and why I work that way.
When presented with what should be an open task, I feel I’ve become likely to systematise the process; break it down, divide tasks where possible...
I felt, like this was a good thing: I’d developed a set of conceptual strategies, meaning they aren’t bound to a medium, so I could hopefully engage with any subject.
My aim with this last journal entry was to clearly explain my methods, separate from the subject, to show what I had learned. But what I found was a much harder set of questions to answer:
If arts function is to destroy assumption, why do I think having a preset methodology is a good thing?
Is my methodology systematic, and does it produce it’s own bias?
What is the difference between a system and a process?
I obviously don’t have the time or space to begin answering these questions here, but in preparing for longer-term projects (honours, masters, phd) I think it’s important I consider this kind of thing.
My fear was that my work had, or would become subservient to methodological systems, producing their own bias, and essentially working against my project.
But if I shift my focus from system to process, I relinquish the burden of having had to produce any kind of final outcome.
Where from here?
On this idea of process and system, I’d like to look at more theory that deals with this verb-like interpretation of truth, meaning, art and so on, including: Alffred North Whitehead, Isabelle Stegers, Nietzsche, Heidegger, Deleuze.
I’d like to look at more art theory, as opposed to philosophy to help connect my work and thinking through materials and expanding the concept of language. I feel I need a better foundation in particular movements and traditions in art such as Conceptual art, and formalism, so I hope to look more at Sol Lewitt’s Sentences/Paragraphs on Conceptual Art and Richard Serra’s Verbs.
Also, practically speaking, I feel a strong connection between my understanding of sound, and my approach to working with it as a medium, and this process philosophy. But as a way of maintaining my conceptual flexibility, including being able to work in mediums other than sound I’d like to look at more programming, specifically node-based programming including more Max/MSP, and Arduino work, but also possibly similar Processing/Python/Raspberry Pi, and more 3D printing work with Rhino and Grasshopper.
On this note I might add Manuel DeLanda, for his connection to Deleuze, and his interest in programming as a way of understanding process. Possibly Alain Badiou, for his interest in pure mathematics as a source of inspiration for philosophy. And Paul Fayerabend’s Against Method as a way of understanding what method is, and when and how it may be appropriate to question it.
Whether all of these avenues are explored or worth exploring, whether each question is pursued, or answered, is of course impossible to say in advance. The interest or point is that they only function in situ, in flux, as processes.
















