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LMJ
17 CD COMPANION
The Art of the
Gremlin: Inventive Musicians, Curious Devices
Contributors' Notes
Dan Wilson:
Printar (Study One)
Contact: Dan Wilson, Bishop's Stortford, Hertfordshire CM23 3NP, U.K.
E-mail: hellebore_shew_at_hotmail_dot_com.
Printar Study is the first in
a series of studies on adapted dot-matrix printers. "Printar" is an
amalgam of "printer guitar"; it can be strapped to the player and
operated while one stands, and there are numerous taut springs inside
simply crying out to be plucked. It is an attempt to reinstate that
instinctive bond seen in instrument-instrumentalist relationships,
which is sadly lacking in user interactions with nonmusical
operational equipment. It could be said that in the industrialized
world our proprioception is diverted away from playful
musico-idiomatic actions and directed instead toward unilateral
work-related procedures: Realization of emotion is substituted with
realization of capital. Expressivity is frustratingly numbed on these
new dummy instruments of work, yet they sing on with steadfast
monotony, filling the offices with their harmonically rich voices.
They have musical potential. In this study, the printar is played on
the player's lap while he or she sits on a lovely, comfortable chair,
to eradicate any phallocentric figurations that could recrudesce
under the standing guitarist stance. The piece features two printar
performances dubbed together so that the riffs collide and tangle
together, strengthening the printar's voice. The bassy sound of the
springs being plucked can be heard along with the occasional twist of
the roller, making the stepper motor cough.
Essentially, the printar is
the skeleton of a printer with a few amendments. Small single-pole
pickups were placed near the springs to capture their resonance, the
stepper motor was given a direct signal output and a piezo pickup
array was affixed along the roller. Integrated faders govern the
balance between these elements, akin to the balance controls on a
guitar. Also, a squarewave step sequencer module was added. The tones
output from the sequencer module are fed solely into the print head,
through a switching board that directs the signal to any one of the
reeds inside the print head (typically, eight tiny armatures are
compacted inside a dot-matrix print head, each potentially offering
eight independent channels of sound). These eight armatures form a
cluster that punches outward when signals are fed into the channels.
In the printar, the piezoelectric pickups attached to the roller are
pummeled by the solenoid-like action of these reeds, and the player
physically grabs and skims this chattering print head against the
piezos to alter the tone. Another way to alter the tone is through
the switching panel, enabling the player to choose between print head
armatures. In this way the head can filter certain frequencies in
different switching configurations.
The print head gets very hot,
as the yellow sticker warns: "Warning, Warnung, Attention: Hot,
Heiss, Chaud." This becomes painfully apparent when one physically
presses the print head onto the piezo pickups. The device also runs
on 12 volts (two bulky battery packs are worn in a backpack) and can
pack a hefty shock if misused. Despite this, gloves were not worn---a
close instrument-instrumentalistrelationship was maintained. It can
be a somewhat thorny device to work with, but all it needs is love.
In other studies, a pickup,
three strings and tuning pegs were all attached to the printar
skeleton. The string pickup signal was clipped and fed into the print
head instead of the squarewave sequencer, thus bringing it closer to
its instrumental namesake. In another study the stepper motor was
given more prominence. However, the first printar study remained the
most sonically intriguing, since the familiar operational voice of
the dot matrix printer can still be recognized.
Dan Wilson is a
U.K.-based instrument builder, observationalist, hardware hacker,
failed writer and composer specializing in anti-tainment and
mediadropping (the act of leaving homemade tapes or CDs in public
places for people to find and to be jarred by). He is also known to
operate under the monikers Meadow House and Ashfordaisyak when
dropping media.
NotTheSameColor:
bin_op
Performed by Billy Roisz (TV, Hi8 camera, EQ Killer, audio and video
mixing desk) and dieb13 (klopfer [self-built embedded computer with
self-written audio software]). Recorded at Sperrmuecc Studios,
Vienna, and mastered by Dieter Kovacic.
Contact: Billy Roisz and
Dieter Kovacic, 1150 Vienna, Austria. E-mail: ntsc_at_klingt_dot_org. Web site: kluppe.klingt.org.
The source material for the
track bin_op was the video signal produced by an optical feedback
loop between an old Hi8 camera and a TV monitor. However, we did not
care for the optical output (mainly black-and-white flickering
patterns) in a visually aesthetic way. We just wanted the image to
produce good sounds: The video signal was sent to a video mixer
(which can change, for example, the speed of the pattern movement and
so also influence the sound), then to a strong audio equalizer/filter
and finally to an audio mixing desk---that was Billy's part. From
there the audio signal was fed to dieb13's self-built computer, named
klopfer kluppe.klingt.org/pictures.html,
where the sounds were processed by the Linux-based self-written audio
software kluppe. bin_op is an edited mix of the resulting recordings.
Billy Roisz lives and works in Vienna/Austria and is currently
working on video and sound experiments in the context of performance,
installation and cinema. She specializes in feedback video and
video/sound interaction using monitors, cameras, video mixing desks,
a self-built video synth, computers and turntables for video and
sound generating.
dieb13, a.k.a. Dieter
Kovacic, dieb14, takeshi fumimoto, bot, echelon, dieter bohlen, etc.,
has since the late 1980s worked continuously in rendering cassette
players, vinyl, CDs and hard disks into instruments. He makes music
for theater, dance and video productions and for various
installations. He is a conscientious copyright-objector and lives in
Vienna Fünfhaus.
Rotted Orange:
Birthday Bull
Performed by Rotted Orange:
César Dávila-Irizarry (circuit-bent transistor radio)
and Jacob Christopher Hammes (laptop). Recorded in Chicago, IL.
U.S.A., 21 November 2005. Published in 2006 by Cursor Records: http://www.archive.org/details/cursorrecords.
Contact: César
Dávila-Irizarry, Orlando, FL 32825,
U.SA. E-mail: cesar_dot_davila_dot_irizarry_at_gmail_dot_com.
From César
Dávila-Irizarry: Playful, colorful, active and sharply
sonically stated---that is the kind of delivery we found ourselves performing
on the night of recording. While I used my circuit-bent transistor
"compu-radio" (a small transistor radio within its miniature PC
plastic shell on top of a videocassette case that serves as storage
for its homemade extra circuitry), Chris would grab signal from my
playing and manipulate it in real time to respond to my playing,
which was based on interacting with his delivery. Just as with a
conversation, the subject and tone changed progressively.
From my perspective, the way
I react to Chris's playing is just as much inspired by folkloric
Puerto Rican music (bomba), in which the main drum plays
improvised solos with hits in between the hits from the other
rhythmic drums, usually in a fast-paced manner, as it is by
electroacoustic improvisation. This brings an element of surprise,
which, in bomba, serves as interaction with a dancer who takes center
stage; an element of surprise that I also find in the electroacoustic
improv tradition. In this case my dancer is my colleague's delivery,
which I take into consideration as both a sonic entity and, as I
sometimes imagine, a visual presence triggering my reactions. That is
why the use of photocells to control my compu-radio works well with
my mindset during performance. The physical way I interact with my
electroacoustic instrument is very similar to something I have been
exposed to since I was born; it doesn't matter that the final sonic
result is not exactly the same, though I should add that at the end
of Birthday Bull I play click sounds in a way that is very similar to
how drums announce the end of a bomba song.
After all recordings were
selected and we had also worked on the album's art, we needed to come
up with titles. Titles are something important for both of us. We
both felt the same about how to title our work. It couldn't be
sterile and scientific, like so many titles in any kind of music that
revolves around "new" technology. It had to be something that would
create its own identity for the piece but at the same time be very
familiar to our everyday lives. So I went to Chris' apartment and,
between the exhaustion of our day jobs and a couple of drinks,
Birthday Bull made the most sense. It still does; I think it captures
the energy of the performance.
From Jacob Christopher
Hammes: When working with random moments, especially in an
improvised context, I like to compare the process to sorting through
someone else's garbage. One never knows what one is going to find, so
it is necessary to create a way of separating the trash from what is
valuable. For improvisation, I wade through the less interesting
moments in the composition before arriving at the desired location.
When things happen that are unexpected, I have to match it to my
sensibilities as a listener before thinking about my abilities as a
musician. I don't really have to think of myself as a musician at all
as long as I know what it is I want to hear. Because I am using a
laptop when César and I play, I want to think about my
instrument as being narrower than it really is, restricting my
playing to one or two elements instead of trying to fill the whole
sonic range with unique sounds. In this way we can communicate more
intuitively and think about the basic intersection of these smaller
elements rather than how to move from one place to another. There is
a push and pull that goes on when trying to steer the performance in
a direction, which is sometimes a struggle that results in nothing
interesting, but is usually a challenge that gets resolved through
the collective intuition of the performers.
Rotted Orange is a
collaboration between César Dévila-Irizarry and Jacob
Christopher. They selected the best moments of their electroacoustic
improv recording sessions from fall-winter 2005--2006 for their first
on-line release. The recording, titled the executive electric pony
wasteland, demonstrates the communication they accomplish with their analog
(Dávila-Irizarry) and digital (Christopher) instruments. The
tools of choice are circuit-bent radios, no-input mixing board
oscillation technique and laptop.
Kunst.ruch.ter: Grandpa's broken hearing aid
Kunst.ruch.ter was
established in 2004 by Pavel Sterec, a student of the Prague Academy
of Fine Arts, and Stanley Povoda, the legendary Czech-American
low-tech roboticist and constructor of electronic musical
instruments. After gaining experience in the field of electronics and
circuit bending, alongside others in the workshop of Sarah Washington
and Knut Aufermann, Kunst.ruch.ter began to develop its own musical
instruments and more people became involved, mostly students of art
who did not specialize in music. At present Sterec is joined in the
project by Jan Rous, a crossover artist active in the field of
theater, art and music.
Kunst.ruch.ter aims to search
not only for specific sound but also for means of reproduction. We
experiment with the use of public loudspeakers, kinetic-sound
installations and FM radio transmission. Kunst.ruch.ter will keep
transforming until it becomes extinct. The main source of inspiration
for the development of new instruments and installations are the
pre-revolution issues of the Czech magazine ABC, for teenagers
interested in technology and natural sciences.
All the instruments were made of components found at flea markets.
The vanishing era of analog radio transmission and the network of
public loudspeakers used in the streets during the years of the
communist regime have become the platform for our sound creation. Our
music is meant to become a pre-mortal cry of these information
organisms.
Owl Project: Bubo
Bubo
Performed by Simon Blackmore and Antony Hall, using two Log1k prototype models.
Contact: Antony Hall/Owl
Project, King's Arms Studio, King's Arm, Salford, M3
4AN, U.K. E-mail: owl_project_at_yahoo_dot_co_dot_uk. Web site:
www.owlproject.com.
It all started with getting
up at dawn and heading down to the local nature reserve. We needed
two logs about the size of two laptops, and logs are not easy to find
in the city. We found a felled tree and took the saw out of our bag
and took it in turns to cut through the 30 cm of moist wood. Three
cuts and probably 1 hour later we had two heavy logs, which we put in
our rucksacks and lugged to the studio.
The idea was to make the two
logs into our own custom music-making machines; we were excited about
laptop music but bored by the interface of much music software. We
wanted to make electronic music that used electricity, not millions
of bytes of code.
After spending ages forming a
log into something that resembled a laptop, we had to install a
screen. At the time we were working in a large warehouse; there we
ripped out some old fluorescent lights that fitted perfectly. This is
the first sound that heard in the track. Having 250 volts of AC
running through the machine as the main sound-generating source added
a certain edge to using the early Log1k. The sounds we manipulated by
connecting the ground loops and smaller circuits joined by the
resistance in our fingers and affected by the 50 Hz AC interference
field from the light.
We obtained the rhythms by
using a spinning wooden disk attached to a drill motor (which also
created electrical interference), the shape and texture of which
clicks switches on and off, resulting in a crude sequencing machine.
We slowly developed these circuits into more complex sound
generators, and Bubo Bubo is one of the first we made.
Formed in 1998, The Owl
Project takes a heavily craft-based approach to designing their own
interfaces and instruments, drawing on influences ranging from
woodworking, hobby-style electronics and open-source software to make
music-making machines. The result is a critique of human interaction
with computer interfaces and an increasing appetite for new
technologies. During 2005 they developed a work called Soundlathe,
combining a traditional pole lathe with custom-built software,
sensors and switches designed to generate electronic music. They have
performed with their "Log1ks" in the U.K. and Europe, including
SCALA, London; Garage04 Festival, Germany; Sonic Undergrowth,
Cornerhouse, Manchester 2005; Festival Emergence, Paris 2005;
Ultrasound05, Huddersfield 2005; WORM, Rotterdam 2005; Home fires,
London. Futuresonic 2006 and as a headline act at Sonic Arts Network,
Expo 2006. They are currently working on a new commission for
Lovebytes, electronic art festival, Sheffield 2007. At present the
core group consists of Simon Blackmore and Antony Hall and more
recently, Steve Symons. All three artists have individual practices
concerning art, science and technology.
Norbert Möslang:
solar_greetings
Performed by Norbert
Möslang using two solar cells, four greeting-card chips and two
flashlights. Recorded at bots studio, St. Gallen, Switzerland,
September 2006. Stereo recording by Norbert Möslang.
Contact: Norbert
Möslang, CH-9000 St. Gallen, Switzerland.
Email: bots_at_swissonline_dot_ch.
Greeting-card chips usually
just produce a well-known melody. Most people know this kind of card,
which begins to play a melody when a card is opened and stops when
the card is closed again. When the card is reopened, the melody
starts again, and so forth.
If someone did this with the
same card hundreds of times, maybe he or she would get lucky and the
melody would begin to change; he might be able listen to sounds that
would never be expected from such a soundchip. Most users will of
course never arrive at this point; they will throw the card away
before it begins to produce interesting sounds.
Digital and analogous errors
produce sounds much more interesting than the original melody. This
is an example of cracked everyday electronics, which I described in
my article "How Does a Bicycle Light Sound?" published in Leonardo
Music Journal 14 [1].
In addition to my work in the
field of experimental music, I also work in the field of visual arts.
In both fields I use digital and analogous errors to produce or
change sounds and pictures that engineers usually try to avoid.
I believe it is very
important indeed to understand that not only does the air transport
information, but light waves, too. It all is dependent on waves of
different frequencies. In any complex system, there are many
possibilities for errors. In our everyday life we usually try to
avoid them, and most times it is better that way. Such errors can,
however, be very productive and direct our thinking into new
directions.
In an installation I did in
the Swiss mountains around Davos, I connected a computer with a thin
film transistor (TFT) liquid crystal display (LCD) to various webcams
on top of the surrounding mountains. My computer at home had access
to the actual picture on it. One day, however, I used the wrong
commands to download the picture. The result came as a surprise to
me: the picture was not correct, but very good and in many ways much
more interesting. It was in fact better than the original. From that
moment on I started to get only "faulty" pictures, because they
changed my point of view. Another approach is to manipulate the
headers of data files, which allows me to obtain pictures from audio
files and vice versa. That field, too, opens on many new acoustic and
visual views.
Norbert Möslang was born in St. Gallen in 1952 and plays
cracked everyday electronics. He worked with Voice Crack until the
end of 2002 and was also a member of poire_z. He plays solo and has
worked with Borbetomagus, Otomo Yoshihide, Günter Müller,
erikm, Jérôme Noetinger, Lionel Marchetti, Jim O'Rourke,
Kevin Drumm, Jason Kahn, Oren Ambarchi, Tomas Korber, Keith Rowe,
I-sound, Carlos Zingaro, Florian Hecker, Toshimaru Nakamura,
Keiichiro Shibuya, Maria Shibuya u.o. He also works in the field of
visual arts. In 2006 he received the namics.kunst.preis for media
arts.
Reference
1. Norbert Möslang, "How Does a Bicycle Light Sound?: Cracked
Everyday Electronics," Leonardo Music Journal 14 (2004) p. 83.
Discography
Jason Kahn, Norbert Möslang, Günter Müller, Keiichiro
Shibuya and Maria, signal to noise vol. 1, for4ears CD 1763
(2006).
Keiichiro Shibuya, Norbert Möslang and Toshimaru Nakamura,
ATAK008, ATAK008 (2006).
Norbert Möslang, burst_log, for4ears CD 1761 (2006).
Norbert Möslang and Günter Müller, wild_Suzuki,
for4ears CD 1760 (2006).
Moshi Honen: Birds
Do It
Performed and recorded by
Moshi Honen on Hampstead Heath, North London, U.K., summer 2006.
Contact: Moshi Honen,
London NW6 6AD. E-mail: moshih_at_gmail_dot_com.
I have been involved in many
aspects of music-making activities for many years. My interest is
constantly shifting and I'm not looking for an aesthetic consistency
in any way.
To me, music-making is a
paradoxical activity that exists in the tension between listening
inside oneself and at the same time listening to the external world
or to the other people involved. Once one is at this stage, one can
abandon oneself, to really be in the moment and live this
contradiction. Any recording of this process is limited by its
inability to transmit the complete information in time and is only a
material image or information that we have to complete each time we
experience it with new meaning. To me this phenomenon is fascinating.
My instrument-making work is guided by curiosity regarding physical
sound, music, technology and the question of what I can make that is
outside accepted musical logic and meaning but that can still be
applied in the context of making music.
My music-making in this case
is concerned with both the physical material world (bird sound) and
the internal process of listening to music. The dialogue (if
possible) here is between three sides---the birds, myself and whoever
listens to the recording. I play an electronic instrument that cannot
imitate the bird sound/language. I use it more to provoke and try to
define a mutual space for all of us and activate the birds into
action. My feeling is that they don't seem to care much and just get
on with their normal business. I am happy with their lack of response
as I believe our activities serve two different functions, but I can
still listen to the process as music.
The instrument I am playing
here is a modified personal alarm, a handheld, battery-powered piezo
speaker, a little plastic box that is capable of producing some very
loud sounds at its resonance peak. Using touch strips that contact 3
points in the circuit, I can vary the internal resistance between
these points and play a variety of sounds, which is quite amazing for
such a basic device. It is probably the simplest instrument I have
ever built.
The recording is a section
from a much longer piece made in Hampstead Heath in August 2006.
Born in Haifa, Israel, Moshi
Honen has been living in London since 1986. He is a musician,
guitarist, performer and instrument maker. He has been involved in
many aspects of music-making activities for over 25 years. In
addition to working on solo projects and compositions, he has also
collaborated with other musicians and artists in the fields of
improvisation, live performances, art exhibitions, dance performance,
musical instrument-making and instrument design.
Grace and Delete:
Splittens
Recorded at Passing Clouds, Dalston, East London, by James Dunn and
Chris Cundy (Grace and Delete) onto DAT with two Shure Prologue
electret condenser microphones, 23 August 2006.
Contact: James Dunn, London E8 3BJ, U.K. E-mail: james_at_4thharmonic_dot_com.
Within this duo we explore
various aspects of electroacoustic free improvisation. The music is
inhabited by an almost endless variety of sounds that are brought to
the surface through an economy of playing and by keeping everything
to a limited range of materials. The instrumentation includes defunct
electronic equipment such as a tinnitus analyzer and a circuit-bent
keyboard, as well as the classical formalism of a bass clarinet.
Starting with this setup as a
departure point, we two instrumentalists overlap with one another, at
once reinforcing and subverting the other while offering a mutual
playing ground in which low tech meets high tech. The complementary
harmonics of the bass clarinet merge with the mutated noises produced
by the circuit-bent keyboard. The use of a redundant tinnitus
analyzer, once used as medical equipment to detect and identify
hidden or internal noises within the human ear, becomes a conduit for
the transmission of these sounds, making audible the internal
structures of systems and rewiring them into the physicality of the
live performance.
The juxtaposition of these
micro and macro environments is evident in the bass clarinet's
amplification of concealed noises. In the midst of a highly charged
climate of systems that are fast being broken down, externalized and
made to appear more and more volatile by their exposure, the bass
clarinet begins to adopt a unique dialogue of its own that reflects
the conditions of the player in a very physical way. Extracted
particles of sound from within the instrument's bore, and the
internal sounds of the mouth and body, descend toward residues of the
human voice. Slight breaths, the slapping of the tongue against the
reed and the flicking opening and shutting of half-open keys provide
absorbent textures that quickly become imbedded into increasingly
obscured tonalities that rise and fall through the stem of the bass
clarinet's awkward bulk. The instrument quite literally becomes an
extension of the body, feeding into the path of electroacoustic
exchange. The inside becomes the outside and, as the human agent
confronts the veneer of the system, it seeks to devour it, to possess
its very nature by infiltration.
The keyboard, the circuitry
of which has been rewired, produces the sound of its mechanical self.
The internal data and logic signals, which were originally designed
to be invisible become audible, like the clunking keys of the bass
clarinet. A dialogue ensues of corrupted logics, allowing elements
that were once distinct to become blurred, and to form into
homogenous blocks of sound, only to splinter off and reconstitute
themselves elsewhere within the relentlessly changing bed of sonorous
possibilities that are open to the spontaneity and exchange of raw
materials. The endless movement to and fro, of Grace and Delete, is
the product of this volatile environment, and forms a fecund platform
from which we as a duo can approach the creative act of improvisation.
Within Grace and Delete, we
naturally draw upon traditional dialogues inherent in our own
playing, yet we allow the internal dynamics of the machine to
interject and, at times, to outwit the mark of the individual. An
environment is reinforced that seeks to do away with traditional
compositional or musical boundaries and their necessary function,
where clear demarcations of beginnings and ends are ignored, laying
bare a raw primacy of process.
Grace and Delete was formed
in London/Cheltenham in 2001 as a duo of electronics and bass
clarinet. Its debut album, Grace and Delete, released on Ochre
Records in 2003, was recorded in the expansive acoustic space of the
Pittville Pump Room in Cheltenham, and in the following year the duo
toured the U.K. with Jazz Services funding. The tour included such
venues as Manchester's Whitworth Art Gallery and the 291 Gallery in
London, as well as venues in Sheffield, Cheltenham, Birmingham and
Bristol, in appearances alongside musicians such as Mick Beck and
Piney Gir. More recently, Grace and Delete have played to entirely
different audiences at venues such as the Astoria and the Borderline
in London in addition to regular London improv clubs.
Haco: Pencil Organ
'04 (excerpt)
Performed, recorded and
edited by Haco. Recorded live for Instrumentalize #2 at Kawasaki City
Museum, 22 August 2004.
Contact: Haco, Nishinomiya, Hyogo, 662-0945, Japan.
E-mail: tribalmarket_jp_at_yahoo_dot_co_dot_jp, Web site: www.japanimprov.com/haco.
Pencil Organ is an
instrument created from a home electronics kit. By tracing two test
leads (+/-) across a thick sheet of paper covered with pencil
markings, sound is created. By controlling the two electrodes (+ and
-) with one's hands a person can become part (the resistance) of an
electronic circuit. The sound is amazingly varied, and the human body
(or say, an apple) also produces sound when touched. Changing or
slightly dislodging a couple of the parts (blocks) in the electronic
circuit adds to the range of the instrument. The nerves in the human
body also function via electricity, and although extremely weak,
magnetic fields exist within the body.
Haco is a
composer/vocalist/sound-artist. She is a founding member of After
Dinner (1981--1991) and Hoahio. Haco has created numerous recordings
both as a producer and engineer. As a musician, she has given
performances at experimental art festivals throughout Japan and the
world. In 2005, her electroacoustic CD Stereo Bugscope 00 was awarded
Honorary Mention in the digital music category at Prix Ars
Electronica in Austria. With her unique sensibility, Haco has
developed a practice based on principles of post-punk,
electroacoustics, the avant-garde, improvisation, post-rock,
environmental sound and technology.
Leonardo Di Crappio:
America, Torture Capital of the World
Performed by Leonardo Di
Crappio using various Unstruments, including The Old Hoptonian
(adapted ring modulator), Species Derilictus (remote head tape and
speaker combination), Bald Skweeker (badly constructed highly
unstable state variable EQ) and The Ignoble Schmook (deliberately
crappy, low-frequency generator). Captured using a mixture of
microphones: Røde, Blue, SM 57 and one delightful specimen
from the "everything for one Euro" shop (brand name: Mitochiba).
Recorded to Pro-tools mix system 24-bit 48khz, in London, 9 January
2007. Mixed by Knut Aufermann, January 2007.
Contact: Jim Whelton, London NW1 9AX, U.K. E-mail: unexploded_at_blueyonder_dot_co_dot_uk.
About my relationship to
noisemaking: The most loathsome thing about improvisation---a music
that professes to invent itself from moment to moment---is its
predictability. A narrow circle of sound choices hemmed in by an
ever-narrowing range of possibilities. When I shut my eyes I can
almost see this in picture form---the beleaguered wagon train of the
racist myth of the Old West. The wagon train is peopled by
improvising yahoos haplessly shrinking their perimeter as they
crumble beneath another attack from murderous savages. The savages
are you and I, emerging from our cocoons of ignorance.
Perhaps there was once a
groat of truth in Improvisation's claim to be founded on those
traditional American capitalist values---individualism, trail-blazing
inventiveness, audacity. Even this arrogant practice has devolved
into little more than a music of finessing. Yes, finessing. A music
of stunningly pointless technique and zero cultural significance.
Seeking a way off this
sinking hulk, I decided that the first things that needed dumping
overboard were the musician's prized assets, close control (the
neurosis of "good" technique) and defined goals. My solution was to
develop my own family of devices---the Unstruments, named to
differentiate them from those outdated control devices, Instruments.
Unstruments are basic
feedback circuits that sometimes play themselves and are prone to
interact unpredictably with human interventions. Some of my most
delightful recent performances have occurred when the Unstruments,
despite chirruping and squeaking merrily during the sound check, have
refused to make a sound. Naturally, this confuses and frustrates the
hell out of the audience, but if they feel bad, think about me
standing up there like a half-boiled lemon desperately trying to coax
a noise from the dead mass of circuitry.
About this piece: America,
Torture Capital of the World is a blatantly representational
piece but one that nevertheless is carefully designed to leave just
enough room for the listener to plug in his or her own
misinterpretations. My idea was to develop a work that, while
showcasing all the great benefits that American language and culture
have bestowed upon the world, also represented the screams of its
countless victims.
For years Leonardo Di
Crappio worked as an uninspired motivational salesperson. Then, in a
moment of panic, he gave it all up to become an electronic musician.
He eventually tracked down the device he needed to succeed in his new
career. It lay covered in gleaming muck in a dusty shop window in
Tooting Bec. That device was a complete model 2500 ARP synthesizer
with only a few broken sliders. Unfortunately, the ARP cost
150.000---more money than Leonardo will ever earn in his entire life.
So, undiluted by disillusion, Leonardo set about building his own
devices. He likes to call them his "Unstruments."
Ferran Fages:
DESTENS (04:54)
Performed by Ferran Fages.
Recorded by Pablo Rega, Barcelona, September 2006, Mastered by Ferran
Conangla, Laboratori de So de Metrònom, Barcelona, November
2006.
Contact: Ferran Fages, Progrès 08012 Barcelona,
Spain. E-mail: obsoletefarmer_at_yahoo_dot_es. Web
sites: www.cremaster.com;
www.linnomable.com.
My first approach to the
turntable was in 2000. At that time I was still using vinyl, but also
trying to escape from the vinyl itself, finding new possibilities by
scratching the needle with different surfaces, but I never felt
satisfied with the results. In 2001 I stopped using turntables and
started playing a feedback mixing board and pickups in a regular
project with Alfredo Costa Monteiro (cremaster). My intention with
electronics was to work with a direct, raw and physical approach to
sound, avoiding effects, loops and pre-recorded material.
Around 2003 I started to play
in another regular project with Alfredo Costa Monteiro (accordion)
and Ruth Barberán (trumpet). I was playing feedback mixing
board and pickups. This period was very significant for me, because
my purpose with them was to play electronic stuff that sounded like
an acoustic instrument. After spending months with this idea, by
chance one day I held in my hands a children's telephone (two paper
cups linked with a long string). I started to play with the different
sounds I could produce with my fingers and then with a bow, and it
came to my mind to use my turntable.
The turntable then became a
circular bow as different resonating objects were rubbed against it.
I started to explore the sound properties of different objects, like
springs, strings, paper, balloons, wood, porexpan and
combinations/interactions of all them. Without any doubt this
approach to the turntable as an acoustic instrument was very related
to the trio I was playing with, because they also use wood, paper,
rubber and other materials for extended techniques or as extended
sound sources from their traditional instruments. This encouraged me
to find more complex sounds and extend the possibilities of the
acoustic turntable. Actually, the relationship between the turntable
and the object has changed. At the beginning the turntable was fixed
on the table and the object was rubbed against it. Nowadays I also
use a small turntable that I can move, and the objects are fixed on
the table.
There are three recordings
from this project: Atolón (Rossbin, 2004), Istmo (Creative
Sources, 2005) and Semisferi (Esquilo, 2006).
In 2004, I started two new projects:
--a trio with Will Guthrie
(percussion, amplified objects) and Jean-Philippe Gross
(electronics), resulting in the live recording Ferran Fages,
Jean-Philippe Gross, Will Guthrie, Antboy/Lmc Members (2006).
--Fagus, a duo with Pascal
Battus (acoustic Walkman), resulting in the studio recording Dans
l'involucre entre ouvert (A Question of Re-Entry, 2006.).
Ferran Fages is a
self-taught musician who plays guitar, acoustic turntable and
electronics (feedback mixing board and pickups). He lives and works
in Barcelona, Spain. Fages has been active in the improvisation scene
since 1998. He was a member of the collective IBA from 1999 to 2006.
In addition to his improvisation activity, Fages also writes
compositions for guitar. In 1998 he stopped playing guitar to
re-think the instrument and the music he made with it. In 2002, he
started from zero: a process in which music allows harmony to
circulate without being dependent on itself, where time is the reason
for exposed materials, always as compositions, never closed, where
space is enough for permanent changes, every time it is played. Fages
is also active in poetry.
Oscillatorial Binnage: Taut Wires, Lice and Flies
Performed by Toby Clarkson
(coils, cameras, cracklebox, video projector, modified personal
alarms, broken computer), Chris Weaver (electric elastic-band zither,
percussion, horn, "locomotive" cracklebox, laptop, paper) and Dan
Wilson (touch contact boxes, blubbabox, modified shaver, chair, keys,
laptop). Recorded at Tyrwhit Road, October 2005. Edited and mastered
by Dan Wilson.
Contact: Chris Weaver.
E-mail: chris_at_resonancefm_dot_com.
Taut Wires, Lice and
Flies is a freeform group improvisation piece that toys with a
concept sometimes referred to as hyperinstrumentation, where the
voices of instruments are harmonically emboldened by the layering of
additional voices playing in unison. This effectively creates
colorful new instruments whose voices appear to defy causal
attribution---something that is most desirable in improvised music
that seeks to establish some meaningful engagement with the listener.
Touch-contact instruments
were the primary sound sources; these included modified personal
alarms, destabilized circuitry and cracklebox-based devices. An
electric elastic-band zither is another notably prominent instrument.
Admittedly, then, the creation of tight acoustic hyperinstruments
required some electronic intervention in the form of laptop
processing: basically custom-built routines acting as dynamic
envelope followers, echo/delay bufferings to smear sound where
needed, along with the addition of some synthesis to solidify the
absolute synchrony between the different, and somewhat incompatible,
elements. As a result, the voices of elastic-band zithers,
table-legs, cameras and shavers could be melded together in single
flourishes. However, much of the synchronization was in fact achieved
by physically signaling (it was performed on a round table) and
through sonic signposting.
Formed in 2005,
Oscillatorial Binnage is a London-based electroacoustic improvisation
trio with a neo-primitivistic approach, composed of Toby Clarkson,
Chris Weaver and Dan Wilson. They work with homemade instruments,
video projection, biofeedback, just intonation, gestural interfaces
and destabilized equipment responsive to touch.
Børre
Mølstad: tubafeedback
Performed by Børre
Mølstad (tabletop tuba, homemade talkbox). Recorded by
Børre Mølstad in his living room, 7 October 2006.
Contact: Børre
Mølstad, 1458 Fjellstrand, Norway. E-mail:
nomusic_dot_borre_at_gmail_dot_com.
Contrary to popular belief,
the tuba is not an acoustic amplifier for pitches created by the tuba
player's lips. The tuba works as a resonator for vibrating columns of
air, and sound produced by oscillating frequencies from the lips
resonate at the harmonics of a particular length of tubing. When one
puts the tuba into a feedback chain, it behaves in much the same way.
Vibrating columns of air resonate in the instrument, but instead of
coming from the tuba player's mouth, the oscillating frequencies come
from a speaker in a box. My idea for this track was to play with
feedback using the tuba as a resonating body. My feedback chain
consists of a microphone inside the bell of the tuba, an amplifier
and a talkbox connected to the leadpipe of the tuba with a garden
hose. A talkbox was needed in order to direct the sound back into the
instrument. After some tests I found out that ordinary talkboxes blow
up far too easily, so I decided to make a more durable and powerful
one. The homemade talkbox is built upon the same principles as a
normal talkbox, only bigger, and instead of a compression driver it
is fitted with a 10-in full-tone speaker. I also drilled a hole in it
where I connected a tuba-mouthpiece via another garden hose. This
allows me to "buzz" or sing oscillating frequencies that modulate the
sound, as can be heard at the beginning of the track. (When dealing
with tuba feedback, it doesn't really matter where in the loop one
puts the mouthpiece.)
Pressing a valve routes the
vibrating air through additional tubing. This changes the reflection
ratio in the instrument and makes it possible to manipulate the
feedback only by engaging the valves---but there is always an element
of surprise in how the feedback will react. Even if the range of
sounds is somewhat limited, the unpredictability of it is what
attracts me to play with a setup like this. The recording was made on
eight channels, including line output from the amp, stereo close
miking of the talkbox and the tuba, plus some expensive German
microphones in the room. The signal was then mixed down, routed
through a big bass cabinet and re-recorded with ambint microphones to
add some more room and color (read distortion). The two recordings
were then mixed together. No plug-ins, editing or computer trickery.
Børre
Mølstad (b. 1978) is a Norwegian tuba player. He studied at
the Royal Academy of Music in London, where he among other groups was
a member of the London Improvisers Orchestra, before moving back to
Norway. Børre Mølstad mainly works within the field of
improvised music---electronic and/or acoustic. He is generally
interested in objects that can make a sound, and he likes building
his own instruments or modifying his tuba. Apart from playing
improvised music he also writes music and runs a small record label
called NO!MUSIC! together with saxophonist Ole Jørgen Bardal.
Rhodri Davies: Camber
Performed by Rhodri Davies
(harp, EBows). Recorded by Graham Halliwell, The Old School, Bracon
Ash, Norfolk, January 2004. Edited by Ben Drew and John Wall. Mixed
by Louisa Martin.
Contact: Rhodri Davies, Bounds Green, London N11
2LE, U.K. E-mail: rhodrijd_at_yahoo_dot_co_dot_uk. Web site: www.rhodridavies.co.uk.
As a performer, I have sought to fragment, disrupt and deconstruct
the traditional harp sound. This has often involved the use of new
performance techniques and various preparations on the instrument.
One of the extended techniques I use is the Electronic Bow, or EBow.
My piece Camber is composed of multilayered recordings, using one and
two EBows to play metal guitar strings on my lever harp.
In researching sounds, I am
interested in how I can sustain a harp note. In addition to using
bows and fans, I find that the EBow works well in extending the
duration of a note. In the past, my improvising vocabulary mainly
consisted of emulating electronic sounds on my acoustic instrument,
and the EBow harp sound fitted well in that context. More recently, I
have been performing using two EBows to explore harmonics and the
beating effect that is achieved by tuning two notes close together.
The EBow works best on a
small lever harp. It is difficult to get it to activate the thicker
and longer metal bass strings of the pedal harp, and when it does,
the result is very quiet. The guitarist Ivar Grydeland showed me how
to add a second battery to strengthen the signal. This works better
on the strings of the pedal harp, although I can only use it for a
short length of time before the device overheats.
In my composition
Perdereau--for one harp and eight hands, recorded 16 March
2004 and released on the CD London Strings by Absinth Records, I
explore the harpís decay and sustain. The 40 note chords at the
beginning of the piece deal with decay, and the EBow section at the
end explores sustain. On this CD, Camber deals with the latter half
of Perdereau more fully and is a companion to a longer 40-min piece,
scheduled for release as a CD on the Confront label.
When I started using the EBow
I only knew of one composition for harp that used the device. John
Cageís Postcard from Heaven (1982), for 1--20 harps, begins and ends
with the harpists playing EBows on the harp strings. More recently,
two composers have written pieces for me that incorporate the EBow:
James Saunders's # [unassigned] and Laurence Crane's Single
Harmony for Rhodri Davies.
In using the EBow on the
harp, I have also changed the position in which I play the
instrument. By placing the harp horizontally, I can set the EBows on
the strings and still be free to use other preparations. This has
opened up a whole new array of possibilities. I am currently on the
lookout for someone who can build a large version of the EBow, one
that will enable me to play multiple strings at the same time.
Rhodri Davies was born in
1971, in Aberystwyth, Wales. He has been based in London since 1995
and performs regularly in the U.S.A., Japan, Canada and Europe.
Davies plays harp, electric harp and live electronics and is a
musician who has long beenfascinated by noise, improvisation,
performance, phonography, composition, reductionism and sound art.
His regular groups include Broken Consort, Common Objects, Cranc,
Portable, The Sealed Knot, Apartment House, Q-02 and a trio with
David Toop and Lee Patterson. He also performs and researches
contemporary music and is part-time lecturer at Huddersfield
University. He has commissioned new works for the harp by Antoine
Beuger, Carole Finer, Catherine Kontz, John Lely, Michael Maierhof,
Gorwel Owen, Tim Parkinson, Michael Parsons, James Saunders, Mieko
Shiomi and Yasunao Tone.
Knut Aufermann and Tetsuo
Kogawa: fm:i/o
Performed by Tetsuo Kogawa
and Knut Aufermann (micro FM transmitters, radios, mixing desk).
Recorded in Tokyo, Weymouth and Munich, 2006--2007. Track
construction: Knut Aufermann, 2007.
Contact: Knut Aufermann,
E-mail: knut_at_klingt_dot_org. Web site: knut.klingt.org; Tetsuo Kogawa's
web site: anarchy.translocal.jp.
From Knut Aufermann: Tetsuo Kogawa and I first met in
Marseille in December 2005. A few months before, in Budapest, I had
witnessed one of his lecture performances that he webcasts from Tokyo
whenever he can't follow an invitation in person. He made some very
poignant comments on the state of media art and proceeded to perform
an improvised concert on an array of freshly soldered-up mini FM
transmitters that reacted to the movement of his hands.
In Marseille the chance came up to perform an impromptu concert with
Sarah Washington and Jacques Foschia in a small record shop called
DATA. It was the start of a practice-based collaboration that saw
Tetsuo inviting Sarah and me to stream live performances to Japan and
New Zealand and also resulted in this joint piece for LMJ.
The idea for the piece
fm:i/o was to only use radio feedback to produce the source
sounds. Following different artistic developments, Tetsuo and I have
both arrived at a point where mini FM transmitters overcome their
intended use to be transformed into musical instruments. Maybe it
will become a normal musical function for existing transmitters once
analog transmission has gone out of fashion.
Tetsuo is one of the world's
leading radio theorists and for decades now has built mini and micro
FM transmitters, starting off the free radio movement in Japan. He
has also developed a performance style that sees him place many of
his transmitters on a table to influence their meshwork of FM
oscillation by moving his hands in between them. The exact physical
implications of this stunning visual performance are beyond my
understanding of radio technology. I don't know any other electronic
musician who can set up for a concert by emptying the contents of a
plastic bag onto a table, a bag full of transmitters that only need a
bit of separating out, and be ready to go.
My approach emerges from the
use of feedback to produce music, and in 2001 I added radio feedback
to my setup of wrongly wired-up mixing desk, effects units and
microphones. The Velleman K1771 FM oscillator kit allowed me to
transmit to a small transistor radio, which would feed its signal
back to the transmitter and thus produce rich and unusual radio
feedback sounds. It didn't take long to find out that the capacitance
of my hand could change the frequency of the transmitter slightly
when it came near its antenna, and therefore influenced the feedback
loop. By now my transmitter collection has grown to include a couple
of commercially available Belkin TuneCast2 transmitters and a
treasured homemade "babyphone" miniature FM transmitter that clips
onto a 9V battery and has a built-in microphone, made by an anonymous
person in Prague.
fm:i/o was constructed from radio feedback sounds that were
separately recorded by Tetsuo in Japan and myself in the U.K. After
that I did a remix by passing it through a network of micro FM
transmitters and radios with feedback possibilities and added the
outcome to the original track composition.
Tetsuo Kogawa's interests
range over a variety of disciplines and critical approaches. After
studying philosophy at Sophia and Waseda universities, he taught at
Wako University for 17 years. He is currently Professor of
Communication Studies at Tokyo Keizai University's Department of
Communications. Kogawa introduced free radio to Japan, and is widely
known for his blend of criticism, performance and activism. He has
written over 30 books on media culture, film, the city and urban
space, and micro politics. Most recently he has combined the
experimental and pirate aesthetics of the Mini-FM movement with
on-line streamed media.
Knut Aufermann, born in 1972
in Hagen, Germany, studied chemistry, audio engineering and sonic
arts (receiving an MA from Middlesex University). From 2002 to 2005
he was station manager of Resonance104.4 FM in London. He is now
active in Europe as a radio-maker, musician, organizer, curator and
consultant. His engagements are in the field of radio art, improvised
electronic music, research and network development.
Toshimaru Nakamura:
nimb#41
Performed by Toshimaru
Nakamura on no-input mixing board, Tokyo, 28 September 2006.
Contact: Toshimaru Nakamura,
Suginami-ku, Tokyo 168-0065, Japan. E-mail: setreset_at_jcom_dot_home_dot_ne_dot_jp.
A good quiet day is offered.
And there are musical equipments around me. But that doesnít
necessarily mean that I start to work. Then here arrives an
invitation to contribute a piece of music to a CD for LMJ. This is
another push for me. But I am still glancing over a mixing desk, some
effect pedals, unplugged cable. Why not? Why am I not getting up and
start to play music like . . . like a musician? Hmmm. . . . OK, maybe
not today. Then, a few days later, I might start to connect these
cables between gears and make them work together. I would turn on
power switches of them only to see all those red and green LEDs
blinking fast and slow. Then I myself know I would finally start to
touch them, on knobs for example, at some point. I would not hesitate
too much to press a record button on a recorder. Then, I would listen
back and say, well . . . not bad. I am not so excited to believe that
this is all this is about. But this does seem to be it.
There are choices that are
offered. I played and recorded the piece that I am now presenting
here on the CD accompanying LMJ. The duration is about 10 minutes.
But there could have been the same 10 minutes but not spent playing
and recording this piece of music. If I indulged myself just sitting
down on a couch and did nothing but looked up and down in my room
with a beer glass in my hand, one could say the music would not have
been here. But I am still doubtful about this. Because once I have
connected all the cable between the gears, and I do things like
twisting and touching any possible interface on them, some music
would start to emerge in whatever shape. That gives me a feeling that
music was already there regardless of what I have done.
There is music that is
offered and not offered. There seems to be lost music. In any minute
in which you do not play music, it looks like it is lost. But I do
not think it is actually lost. It is just not offered to us.
So, here is the music that we
are offered, or the music that I was offered and am now passing to
you to share with you. Well, it is ready but you still need to put it
on the tray of your CD player and press a play switch to start. . . .
But you can do it with a beer glass in your hand.
No-input mixing board
player Toshimaru Nakamura set aside his guitar around 1998 and began
to concentrate on producing electronic music on the no-input mixing
board, which he named himself. It describes the method of his music.
"No" external sound source is connected to "inputs" of the "mixing
board." The music on the no-input mixing board was first presented on
the CD un (1999, meme), a recording of his duo with Sachiko M's empty
sampler, and his first solo disc, no-input mixing board. To date,
Nakamura has recorded four solo releases on the instrument and one on
the guitar. He also has numerous CD releases of collaborative works
with other improvisers. Nakamura is mostly an improviser,
occasionally a composer for dancers and an instrumentalist for
compositions.
Ivan Palacky: In the Knitting Mood
Performed by Ivan Palacky
(amplified Dopleta 160 knitting machine). Recorded Slatinka, Brno,
Czech Republic, 19 September 2006. Mixed by Ivan Palacky.
Contact: Ivan Palacky, Brno 627 00, Czech Republic.
E-mail: manus_at_iol_dot_cz.
In my "civil" life I work as an architect. About 4 years ago, when I
tried to penetrate 3D computer modeling, I realized that the
operations with virtual objects I had been doing for hours and hours
(the basic modeling is about doing operations such as "union,"
"subtract" and "intersect" again and again) and my perception of the
manipulation with abstract sounds are very much alike.
The individual 3D images can be held at an intersection point
and moved randomly along the linear axis or arranged in different
distances in space. Compared to the operations of an improviser, who
at a certain moment creates a sound object and places it carefully
into the proceeding sound situation a moment after, the computer
operations seem to be very similar.
From that moment I started to look
for an instrument with which I could best develop the "3D approach"
in the manipulation with sound. First I started to adapt instruments
at hand, such as my acoustic guitar, to the point that it had nothing
in common with its original function, reducing its usage to that of a
resonator of various objects that were put on the body of the guitar.
Since then, I have realized that any object can actually become a
resonator.
From time to time I have
remembered a weird machine that appeared on and off in the course of
my childhood and had become an object of my avid yet unrealizable
interest---a manual flatbed knitting machine, the Dopleta 160. In the
1970s, the Dopleta 160 represented the latest advance of modern
technology, and it was really something when a Czechoslovakian
household happened to acquire such a machine, contrary to the case
some years later, with nearly every household having one. My aunt,
who first made hats, then sweaters, would take her Dopleta out of a
brown cardboard case with tender care and then she would mark out an
imaginary circle around it, an area completely forbidden to my
cousins and me.
A knitter would twice move a
funny handle over an indented rail, forth and back, and a piece of a
sweater would move onward and fall a bit over the edge.
With many needles and little springs,
a knitting machine is a good resonator, offering various surfaces
suitable for development of the spectrum of extended techniques from
hums and noises, produced by a bow, through faint, indistinct tones
up to percussive sequences.
The knitting machine I was able to
obtain (the family's probably drifted away during the 1997 flood) was
adapted in the following way: I cut it into halves to get a
space-saving size, provided it with two contact mics and connected it
to a mixing board. I was attracted by the possibility of developing
my own musical language from scratch. At the beginning I simply
tried to knit andto amplify and arrange the sounds produced by my
knitting. But after some time I started to see this approach as too
literal, always ending at a point similar to its beginning. I then
realized that I had to change my point of view and see the machine as
an undiscovered musical instrument-resonator, which meant forgetting
its original purpose forever. Since then, the breviary of new sounds
has started to grow, because I feel free to put new objects on the
instrument as well as to adjust some parts of it while eliminating
others.
After discovering a scale of
sounds, I gradually started to distinguish sounds as "light" (hum),
"heavy" (deep drones), "permeable" (percussive), "chainlike" (the
sound of a needle row) and "isolated" (the sounds of applied
objects), and I started to use them in the context of this subjective
method of 3D sound, which means that I perceive sounds as individual
volumes that can be interconnected, separated or intermingling. I put
them on an imaginary axis of the concert at various intuitive
intervals; I also place them around the axis, varying the spatial
distances.
Depending on the acoustics and the
quality of electrical wiring of the venue, as well as the instable
nature of some units of the knitting machine, at some concerts
nothing seems to work as it should, which makes me start from the
beginning again and search for possible sounds determined by that
unexpected situation. Both the machine and I are subjects of
permanent testing of where our personal limits are set at a given
moment.
Ivan Palacky is a musician
and architect. In the 1980s and at the beginning of the 1990s,
Palacky played with various groups and took part in several music
projects. At the end of the 1990s he founded the guitar/double
bass/bassoon group Slede, zive slede (Herring, live herring) and
since 2003 he has performed in an audiovisual duo called Koberce,
zaclony/Carpets, Curtains (with VJ Vera Lukasova). He "writes" a
sound diary of his journeys---collecting excerpts of stories, weird
sounds and various acoustic mistakes. He likes to take part in
one-shot improvisational groups or duos (such as with Cremaster, Ruth
Barber·n and Margarida Garcia, Will Guthrie, Andrea Neumann, Klaus
Filip and Steve Beresford), as well as playing solo performances.
Since 2005 his main interest has been to dig out sounds from an
amplified 1970s Dopleta 160 knitting machine.
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