
I'm in the final stages of mastering 2 releases -
Ngoma Lungundu (Songs of the Thirsty Sword) and
Blue Sky Over Buchenwald: Soundtrack to the Documentary. Both are very different from each other and both raise some interesting questions. For me, as I prepare to engage a Ph.D. in Electronic Art, I am thinking of how these works and the other projects I have piled on my desk, relate to my general, eh, um... ethos - that is, the overall morality of my work (and its intent) as a whole.
Well, the truth is, for good or evil, I create intuitively. It was only years after completing
e1>3ktr=∆ that I began to understand it in sociological terms, or anthropological terms, or semiotic terms. And viewing that from such an analytic position, how can I move forward and outward from that idea, and/or develop those ideas into new, equally or superlatively stronger and relevant works.
Is that the role of the artist - to continuously provide the voice of conscience to humanity? Well, it's not the sole job and with abstraction came the idea that Art can offer something beyond content. It can offer form and retain its social value, for, as our culture becomes more and more abstracted and fragmented, form is nearly equally as important as content.
The Medium
is the Message.
(
Marshall McLuhan)
Semiotics. I want to look at my work from a position of semiotics. But I don't know how, so I'll have to think about that. But certainly some of my older work was poised under that veil -
sp!T,
tW!tCH,
OPUS, and less obviously
crush (diversion) [composed from the cast-off scraps of a much longer composition], they link to semiotics in unusual, but certain ways.
Rugosa Rose- ? Same thing, I think. Connecting to post-modern pastiche, engaging both the performer and the listener to collect fragments and position them in a way that forms a meaningful, cohesive whole.
Work immediately following that, maybe not so much. These are more personal works. I suppose conceptually
Woad for Indigo with it's dual and triple-layers of composition falls into a category similar to
Rugosa Rose and probably
7th Sense. It was composed specifically for the recording, and the happy byproduct is that it makes for an exciting live performance. But the illusion is that at least 4 hands perform the work, and for that to take place, the listener must be blind, so the context of recording is ideal.
I had an inspiring conversation with an emerging (visual) artist the other day who I asked to review the latest CD for technical flaws. He asked to hear a short retrospective of my work so that he could place the new recording in some sort of context. Of course, there is no context - the new work came from the ether. But the retrospective provided MW with some insight and his feedback provided me with some inspiration. He clearly understood my aims - the less-than-obvious pop iconography, buried or gilding the concert/avant-garde genre of music composition and performance, and the anti-linear composition that results from, I don't know, being part of the MTV Generation - who have a notoriously short attention spans.
I remember my classmate, composer
Roger Allen Ward had a conversation with our then-instructor, composer
Morton Subotnick about composition and Mort was complaining that young composers didn't understand the musical importance of transition. Roger exclaimed, "because it's not important - we grew up with a remote control in our hands, there is no transition for us! It's either on or off, this
or that!" I tapped into that idea deeply when I composed
e1>3ktr=∆. It was my aim to use the benefits of the 'electronic orchestra' to its fullest - in fact, to realize that the voices in an electronic orchestra are truly limitless. That means that, as I wrote, the entire instrumentation of a piece could change in an instant.
Traditionally one might add a voice, or use a combination of voices to change an orchestration, or to offer a new sound or sonic insight. My intent with
e1>3ktr=∆ was to disorient the listener by continuously changing the psychological and metaphorical location of the music (now we are inside/now we are outside/now we are someplace else entirely). It required a deep understanding of styles, and more than that, a good understanding of the process by which
drill and bass (the overlaying style of the opera) is made. Many DnB artists are untrained in traditional music, or at least undisciplined in the basics of music composition - and so have no inhibitions about making sudden and unexpected changes in the finished product. It is a trademark of the top artists, Squarepusher, Aphex Twin, for example. True, DnB roots itself in dance, so there is a need for consistent tempo and 'groove' - but the ability to change an entire musical instrumentation instantly is a massive power that I needed to tap. No transitions, Mort.
But what about now, what is the context of this new work, what is the ethos?
I'm working on it, I'm not prepared to say. The work will reveal itself as I create it. But there are, without doubt, some strong links to things I have linked to in the past - just in very new ways.
Listening:
Freemasons: Unmixed (specifically
Rain Down Love featuring powerhouse vox by the amazing Siedah Garret, and
When You Touch Me featuring an equally exciting performance by Katherine Ellis), Alva Noto & Riuchi Sakamoto-
Insen; Sam Sparro-
Sam Sparro, Thompson Twins (the two albums preceding
Into the Gap), Japanese traditional shakuhachi music.
-- 2 hours later: I think I have figured out the connection. But I'm not sharing. (!!)