Bought a boombox tape deck from a thrift store, brought it to North Beach and recorded using the boombox mic. I interpreted the prompt as recording the sound of the place that I visit when I need to be particularly contemplative and meditative. A place that gives me space to relax, reflect on the past and the future, figure out how I feel about anything that is troubling, and map out a course of action that brings me out of confusion and into clarity. Night beaches are always dependable, and I've spent enought time in North Beach to make it more distinct from 'beach.'
The loop I made was of Jimi Hendrix, interviewed by Dick Cavett, saying, "Money is, it's gettin to be out of hand now." With delays. But the volume was way too low. I had thought about doing a loop of my tubular bells. Which I should have done. Because if I hadn't made this scrap metal into an instrument, it would have gone to the dump.
I made my recording using a handheld cassette recorder and an omnidirectional mic. I considered using my laptop for sound editing but decided in favor of going analog. The prompt made me think about the W&OD bike path, which I happen to live next to and which combines both natural and manmade elements in various states of construction or decay. I often walk along the path and appreciate the sights and sounds. So I walked along it one day paying special attention to what I heard along the way. Then I went out another time with the recorder, recording pretty much at random sounds such as birds chirping, water running and people talking as they passed by me. It was difficult to do this seamlessly, and my sounds ended up being rather quiet because I wasn't micing anything very closely.
My loop was wire whisk on a ride/crash cymbal and vocals. Your reference to something lost reminded me of my recent focus on purely electronic tools... so I wanted to reconnect to voice and manual interaction with acoustic instruments.
I hadn't been to the park before I heard about this, so I took my zoom h2 handheld digital recorder to the park about a month ago and recorded some random sounds (water flowing, sticks, walking in leaves, etc). Then thinking about decay, I dug out part of an old recording I made of a gong I took to an abandoned insane asylum outside of Detroit some 20 years ago. Assembled it all in Adobe Audition on my PC and dumped it to a crappy handheld cassette machine, as my jambox doesn't have a "auxilary in" port. The crappy handheld certainly contributed an unexpected bonus under the theme of "decay"!
I got a sense of history/times past which still resonate in the present. So, I got my old 1920's mandolin out, borrowed a cassette recorder that is used to record oral histories from my job at the library, and went to a old fort/park (C.F. Smith) in north Arlington that I like to visit, and recorded my loop there.
I've been experimenting with computer generated voices, mostly manipulating them to make them sing, and using primarily the voices available with Mac operating systems.
For this project I created a vocabulary set for a prose and poetry creation software program from Layne's original prose/poetry in the cassette, selected my favorite lines as lyrics, recorded them using several of the Mac voices in Garageband, and using the tuning enhancement, pitch controls, tempo and key controls, etc. made two melodic lines that worked well in a short polyphonic phrase. Computer generated voices tend to have an ethereal quality I like, and the melodies they create are so unpredictable and difficult to control, so it provided me with a great creative challenge. Also, I had never worked with more than one voice at a time, but I had been to a Buddhist temple shortly before I started working on my loop, and the chanting inspired me to work with a number of voices. This one had about five, which was really fun.
Overall, I wanted to create a sort of microcosm of the whole sound loop project. I set the parameters of the lyrics and vocals, but I didn't really write the lyrics, or compose the melodies, in the same way that Layne set the parameters of the project – the time, location, general theme, etc.– but never had control of the project.
-describe any memorable impressions of the day. anything that sticks out that happened as a result of all of us being up there. any interesting thoughts/ new ideas you had.
Being in these meditative places reminds me of past visits. And how much I appreciate the sound of the water, of birds, the board walk, people. Feel of the beach and the open, infinite potential of the future and of the moment. I don't think I've realized this until now, but I think there's also a general positive feeling in knowing that I'm at the place where I am ready to figure out how to resolve an issue and make a life change.
I met some new people, as I always try to do, and got to know some others better. In all, a very positive experience.
I liked wandering through the ruin, dazed by the cacophony that expanded and evolved with time as more people arrived, watching everyone and wondering who made what sounds, and why and how... at one point I crawled down into a well to rescue a tape player that had fallen, the batteries had popped out and the tape fallen out. I fixed it and put it on a nearby rock. My good deed for the day, I guess. It was funny how every tape was personal yet when they were all put together and separated from their creators, it became more impersonal, our sounds spooling independently of us, and were they ever "our" sounds in the first place? Mine weren't because they were recorded at random, made by birds and water and other people. What about everyone else's?
And I thought about how we all came together to make this and thought about what else we could or should do together, in DC, to make it a more imaginatively stimulating and enriching place to live and love. Or maybe I'm thinking more about that now than I was yesterday.
"The installation was really inspiring. It made me remember that the burden of creation doesn't have to be borne alone, but that sometimes being an artist just means unlatching other people, giving them a place and a means and a reason to create. It made the idea of art less intimidating. Layne, I think, does that well. And Maura did it too [of the Bread and Puppet Lubberland all Volunteer Show] . It's like they spread their arms and blew softly and made one apiece of those giant iridescent soap bubbles that make children stare with their mouths open."
One thing that I really liked was the playful aspect of the day; people climbing on the rocks to get new listening positions, introducing themselves to one another and discussing their loops, etc. It was a really great pairing of art and community. (And the secluded setting helped a lot. It felt like a huge clubhouse.) Oh! And the sharing of snacks.
overall impression was great! it was wonderful to hear the incredible range of ideas on tape, and see the wide range of cassette machines (from handheld to a guitar amp!)
I just felt it was a cool communal gathering. Everyone seemed to share a bit of the same free-floating sentiment and common sense of atmosphere and occasion, without even trying. Lovely day, really.
When we all got together last Sunday, I was surprised by how subtle but profound the whole thing was. It wasn't loud, but it was pervasive. Sometimes the loops would blend together, and sometimes you would hear individual loops, depending on where you stood and how you felt.
Now all I keep thinking is, I want to do it again. I could think of many different variations we could do with this: different locations, longer or shorter loops, different themes, doing one at night(!), adding video and/or lighting. I'm sure that other people have other great ideas about this, too.