Reflections/experience. Completing Semester 1.

What a ride it has been. I made the analogy the other week that being at art school is like being Doctor Who's companion. You know you want to go and experience something new, but it's like a whirlwind trip of all time and space, and leaves you baffled in the end.

I think I've really come out the other end with some new skills. I feel like I've been thorough. Some things really challenged me, but I feel like I've risen to the challenges set. The Volume piece was hard work, but I think I made that one happen. the sound Object piece was great fun, and I felt like I got to put a lot of skills from Audio Tech into that piece. I was pretty happy with my mix. As for the development of my techniques, this class has really helped me integrate new things into the work I've been making. It's made me much more aware of the flaws in my compositional process, and given me new things to try I'd never thought of. It's been an influence on me finishing some old, almost but not quite completed pieces, giving me the final kick they needed, completing the picture, or just supplying me with the tools to see what what missing. In particular, I'm going to finally finish the Absinthe music recording.

I have made plans to spend the majority of the break (besides working on the federation bells piece, which I will do as well) returning to my track a day process. This time with few restrictions. I'll probably set different parameters each morning. I have some ideas for cover songs, sound improvisations, experiments with new equipment, and I want to make some new field recordings and see what happens. I wont be setting duration or instrumentation restrictions on the pieces this time around, but I will try to start something new each day, rather than working over something. this way I can try a whole bunch of different things and just see where they end up. This will also mean I will still have time to work on the bells, other band related stuff, and my "analogies/black comedy" remixes.

The "analogies" remix (a remix version of the track at the top of this blog) is more or less complete. I've mixed it, and sent it off to Lerms in Cancun to make the animated video clip for it. Lerms is a genius. We've collaborated a few times already. When he had a monthly art jam project going on, I did two short animation sound tracks for him. One was an instrumental edit of my song Green, the other was an original track. I'm glad to be working with someone like him. His style is amazing. Between him and Nathan J (who did the Glasfrosch jellyfish art) I have found the two best visual artists for my sounds.







For my Bells piece (and probably for my piece for the town hall organ) I'm planning to use the members of my band to help perform the work. I plan to controll the bells via midi pads, and triggers attached to the drums, and then to use microphones to process the bells in real time. I also want to examine the tonal colour of the bells and play around with modulating the frequencies via some kind of FM synthesis. I'll probably make a song, with words, since what I do is essentially Pop. I'm trying to envision my work as beyond pop music, but with the spirit of pop as an art. I'm not sure where the line is anymore. I used to think I was making experimental music into pop, but I think that definition is too shallow now. I certainly want to get away from the rock band scene. I'd love to play very few regular band shows and just focus on making really complex pieces for one off performances (or close to one off/rare). The Bells will be the first one of those.

My work as Glasfrosch has been tied down to the Melbourne progressive scene for a time, and I want to take it back. I don't like the expectations of that audience. They like guitars and distortion and riffs. I want to play more with static and stillness. Still mix in the guitars and stuff, but I think for too long now I've been trying to please a scene rather than my self. I had a plan. It started with my lullaby project, to strip everything back and develop the sounds from nothing, and slowly add more pop/rock elements over time until I had developed a unique band sound. I think that's happened, and now it's time to start puling things out and trying to find new things with in that to rebuild onto.

The aubades/nocturnes project wont suffer from that, I think by the time that's all finished I'll have dug deep enough alongside them to be able to combine the two perspectives. The recording of Aubades will begin soon, and I'll be mixing it at school in protools my self. The live versions of those tracks have their function, and the recordings will have their own, but in the long term, i guess what I'm trying to say here is, I want to explore some new live functions for the future of my music to exist with. Something that isn't in every corner of Melbourne already.

A Thermodynamic Miracle/A Clock Without A Craftsman.

lyrics...

I struggle with lyrics. I struggle because I'm super picky about cliches, and I despise when people try to pass off other people's sentiments, or indeed, some kind of rubbish cliche sentiment, as there own idea. It's a waste of time and space, and what's the point? But no one can write 100% original ideas in words, and so sincerity takes precedence over originality. I can deal with that compromise.
I have a few different approaches to lyrics. Sometimes they com easy, and that's when I'm most satisfied. Like the perfect haiku, short and ever present perfection, sometimes they just come out like that, and you know it's a winner. Sometimes the idea just out ways the vocabulary. Sometimes someone else has already said what I want to say, and rather than regurgitate some half arsed version of it, I've found that adaption is a better way to approach the song. I first tried this with a song I called Requiem. Some friends of mine died in a car accident, and I wanted to write about it. But I just had no idea how to express what I felt. I read through a book I had call Japanese Death Poems, to kind of focus my direction, and found a couple of haiku that really summed it up perfectly. So I chose to just turn those into the lyrics, and give the credit where it's due. Easy. Not really. I've done this since with a few other pieces. Gyokuro was a harder one. I adapted a number of passages from Kakuzo Okakura's The Book Of Tea. That was a long process, but it was less about using the poetry because it made my point better than I could, and more that it inspired me so much when I read it, and became such a part of my world that I had to assimilate it into my own expression. It's not that I don't ever write my own lyrics, I do. The Sound Object piece I'm working on for class has lyrics. In this case I'm adapting Alan Moore's Watchmen into a song. Specifically the narration and dialogue from the character Dr. Manhattan. The title is A Thermodynamic Miracle - Or, A Clock Without A Craftsman. I've wanted to do this since I first read the book. Alan Moore has a few moments (Swamp Thing is another one that comes to mind) of absolute poetic brilliance in his comic books. Especially in the chapters where Dr. Manhattan is on Mars and talking about time and seeing the universe all simultaneously, they're sweetly nostalgic and melancholic.
I wanted to write a blog about this after Rohan was showing us his scores based on other peoples instructional pieces. I think it's a great way to work. When things touch you and make you envision something new from them, I think it's only normal to take it into your practice and work it into your own work. I remember something a friend said once a few year back, and I'm paraphrasing, but, "there's no new ideas, but there is always a new context for ideas". Without getting into a debate about ideas, I think if you take anything from that advice, it's not to worry about originality of ideas, but to be aware of the context you're placing them in.
I wanted to use the Watchmen lyrics in the Sound Object project for two reasons. The first was just because when I first started playing around with the sound object I made a sound happen that brought it to mind and suited the theme, bringing a science fictiony vibe with it. Secondarily, I figured that since the project is kind of about appropriating a sound object into something new and original, doing it with the lyrics seemed like a good idea. Basically the process this time was different from Requiem and Gyokuro, where in those two works I used the text consciously and with a narrative structure that I picked to serve a particular purpose. In the new piece, I started by writing down all the bubbles I wanted to use, and then cutting them up and placing things at random to see what happens, and what new narrative could come from it. The challenge now is making the lyrical passages that have come from the text work musically and work in with the form of the sound. I'm about halfway there. Needless to say, I have a big week ahead.

blogging from work.

I love working in a computer store sometimes. Today I am blogging in the quiet times, playing on tumblr and finding cool stuff.

I found this artists work on tumblr today. Instantly I though of My Bloody Valentine. This is exactly what I saw in my mind the first time we listened to them in class. This is the "rainbow static" that I was referring to.

The artist's name is Tchmo, from Montreal.

Catching up.

I feel pretty behind on stuff. So much to do, both at school and outside it. It'd be ok, except being in a band means having to wrangle other people for rehearsal, and other bands for gigs. I'm broke too, and have a bunch of band stuff to pay for (promo and mastering,etc). None the less, I'm managing to put it all together. I felt like last week I went through a billion different emotional states. I had a great day last Thursday, I feel like I really succeeded at things. I had a terrible weekend. I was totally blocked and didn't really make anything or do any work, and my ipod died forever.

I've started making some new remixes of two of my older tracks, Analogies for the Universe, and Black Comedy. I love remixes, and I love remixing. Doing remixes of your own work is hard, because all your original ideas are there already. But since these tracks are old, I can bring new approaches to the sounds, and so far I'm getting some really different stuff happening. I'm launching the first Glasfrosch remix collection on June 3rd, remixes of the song Green. The cut I did of that is really fun and different.



Later in the year I'll put out the new collection, and then focus all my energy on releasing the Aubades Ep.

So now that the whinging is out of the way...

I've been enjoying the explorations of perception and listening that we've been doing in class. The sound walk concept was interesting. It was a tiring exercise, but it had a real impact of my perception. I found that after the break, I felt sharper than earlier in the day, even though I felt drained from the walk initially. Heading home I felt really open and connected to the sounds around me. Usually I have the ipod on and isolate myself from the world, but since it died on Saturday, I don't have that option anymore. Jess was an ace person. Her concepts and work were really cool. I love Twin Peaks too. I particularly love Badelamenti, and the little video she played us was awesome. I loved the way Angelo does Lynch's voice. They've worked on so much together, he really knows him, and their connection must be so strong to have worked in the way he describes. I love those themes, they're exactly what he says they are. And iconic too. The Where We're From project seems pretty cool. I've followed the blog and will follow up on it a bit more this week to find out more about it. The questions that it poses are challenging and thought provoking, and could be good to answer for my own benefit.

The Milton Babbit reading was a curious experience. When I read it initially, I both agreed and disagreed equally. I think I disagree more strongly with certain things now, but agree with, or perhaps accept, his ideas more after having discussed it in class. What I don't like about this article is his disconnection from audience. I think audience is a powerful and important component of art. I don't like the way he refers to the layman. I think there are problems with people's acceptance of music that is challenging to listen to, but you're a jerk and a fool to put yourself and your art above other people. People will always be behind the times with music., His analogy to physics, well, their are plenty of people out their who don't understand scientific theories who claim to know better than learned experts. Religious people/"christian science", conservatives/climate change deniers. There are people out there who claim the universe is 10,000 years old and because science can't prove there's no God that they're right (although science can prove the universe is over 14,000,000,000 years. So while I appreciate Babbit's analogy, it's pretty arrogant and flimsy. I think that it's important that people like him were doing that sort of thing back then, but that attitude just doesn't fit into the contemporary world. Music for music sake as research is cool, but as art, it needs to connect with the world somehow. I don't mean the whole world, but a place in it. I guess I just prefer expressive forms over academic. I may be paraphrasing, but I think it was Basquiat said about minimalist painting, there's only so far you can take it before it's exhausted, it becomes pure academia. Expression is personal and can reach people in different ways and is therefore an evolving process that relies on audience connection. I know Babbit isn't "minimalism", but the principal is the same. Serialism is the same sort of thing.
Another thing I'm reminded of is from a Bjork documentary from around 1997. She was complaining about people's attitude to electronic music, about the perception that electronics have "no soul". Her perspective was that all music has the potential to be soul less, if the composer fails to imbue it with any soul. Truely, an instrumental performance can be stale and soul less if the performer doesn't feel the music and express it in their playing. The same can be said of electronic composition. If the composer doesn't put a piece of their life into the music and composes it purely with interlect, then it's not going to be "felt" at the other end. Then the piece becomes an analytical exercise. I'm not opposed to a bit of this, but I don't think it's a thorough way to compose. Perhaps a starting method. I want more human condition in my music/art. I want play, I want love, I want loss, I want thought and challenge too, but I want it in a way that makes me feel at the same time.
Eliane Radigue's Jetsun Mila was a great example of music imbued with life. That piece was exceptional. I got lost in it, and didn't want it to stop. Her sounds were amazing, and the process was just gorgeous. I want an ARP so much.

So I thought I'd just comment on the week prior's topics quickly as I hadn't blogged last week.

We spent a lot of time discussing Morton Feldman and memory. Looking at Feldman's different scoring techniques and listening to the evolution of his work over his career we got a sense of a man who began quite un-precious and non-specific about things, but grew to become much more specific about his work. Admittedly, his earlier graph score work didn't really impress me as much as the later stuff, not that I didn't like, but I liked the later work with it's micro variation and more mellowed out feel. I found the earlier graph piece felt to (inserts a series of hand gestures here for lack of words coming to mind) bland, perhaps, or because there are things left to the performers, there's almost a lack of commitment to the piece, or should I say, conviction. The performers, not having been given exact pitch material, play with less conviction. The rigid geometric time structure also made it feel bland, or perhaps I mean, lazily assembled. Which I guess on paper the piece is solid, but the resulting music lacks a certain completeness. The music from the later piece, fully and specifically scored, sounded much more committed. I also loved the meditation of it. I've played around at home improvisationally with this single chord concept a bit since and tried to explore the memory of it. It's a fascinating process, and something I think would be challenging to develop.
I think long pieces are really hard to pull off. I composed a piece a few years ago, I was calling it Absinthe Music. It was for synths, tuned percussion, electric piano, electric guitar and bowed acoustic guitar. The total score length was different for each instrument, and resulted in an approximate duration of a bout an hour. The instrumentation and form are split into 3 independent time frames. The first is the main synth sound, which is a long, slow, and noisy high pad sound. follows a blues chord progression with an extended turn-around that creates a 15 bar cycle. But these chords are then deconstructed and extended at such a slow pace as they become unrecognisable from the blues progression. The second tier to the form is in the bass drone and guitars. At specifically determined intervals (unto themselves but in no relation to the previously mentioned synth part) a bass drone based on the chord root notes in a jumbled sequence (and to be honest, I forget what that sequence/process behind it was) fades in for a time and then out again. In conjunction with this drone, the acoustic guitar, which is tuned to an open chord for ease of fitting in with each of the bass notes, is bowed with a cello bow and simultaneously the electric guitar sustains another note from the same corresponding chord. This section tends to cycle in half the time to the high pad section, and thus is potentially played twice through. the Third element to the form is in the percussion and rhodes parts. the percussion has 15 frames of material to work through, and is mostly the feature of the piece. Each page, or cell, or frame, is grouped in a similar way and represents a bar in the form of the blues progression. The gestures are grouped over three lines and consist of vibraphone grace note runs, alien disc washes, glockenspiel hits, bowed cymbal and bowed vibraphones. The ordering of each page is similar and figured out in such a way that as they're played slowly and quitely so the piece develops without you noticing the changes. The rhodes piano part is simply chords from the same progression, that synchronise with particular cymbal washes in the percussion part. The chord performance instructions are simply to voice the chord anyway you wish, and play express it with a slight arpegiation, how slight is at your, the performer's, discretion. I was reminded of this piece greatly by the Feldman. It seems I was on his level without knowing it. I did make a recording of the piece, but the guitars were never finished. Perhaps I could finish it eventually.