John Kannenberg’s Spalding Gray Tribute (MP3)

Sound artist John Kannenberg has remastered one of his most touching recordings, a tribute to the late monologuist Spalding Gray. The audio takes recordings made in 2003 on New York City’s Staten Island Ferry and transforms them into a lament for its troubled subject. The Ferry is associated with Gray because it is reportedly the last place he was sighted before disappearing; later, his body was discovered in the East River.

 
At nearly 20 minutes, it mixes a wide variety of sounds, including what could be highly processed bird song, the rumble of the ferry’s motor, and ringing bells. This is no simple elegy. For all its surface placidity, it is shot through with high-pitched sounds that edge toward anxiety. It also has a uniquely melodic component for a work, such as this, derived from field recordings. Especially after its midpoint, there comes to be heard a light melody, an eerie riff that resembles some of the more otherworldly recordings of Louis and Bebe Baron.

One thing to note is the dates. Gray died in 2004, and the recording was produced and released shortly thereafter (originally on Earlabs; this version was remastered this year). But the recordings of the ferry were completed by Kannenberg in 2003. Which means he had in his possession sounds that meant one thing before Gray’s death, and something else entirely after. Even without the sonic transformations inherent in Kannenberg’s processing, the association of Gray with the ferry gave those recordings new meaning after his tragic suicide. That simple gap in dates lends even more gravitas to the recording. Music built from field recordings is intended to, in some way, reflect our world back at us, slightly altered, and thus illuminate it in a special way. Since the ferry audio was transformed (in terms of meaning) simply by the fact of Gray’s passing, the piece casts a shadow on all field recordings, exemplifying how even raw documentation will change as context changes over time.

Track (title: “For Spalding Gray”) originally posted at soundcloud.com. More on Kannenberg at johnkannenberg.com.

(View of Staten Island from the ferry in 1998 from flickr.com by Gregory Melle. Used via Creative Commons.)

Susan Philipsz Wins the Turner Prize; First Sound Artist Nominated

Today was a pretty solid milestone for sound art. It’s the day that Susan Phillipsz, the 45-year-old Glasgow native, won the Turner Prize for her installation “Lowlands.”

Her victory served as a good opportunity for me to follow up on an invitation from boingboing.net to guest blog for them. You can read the post, my first for the directory of wonderful things, here.

 

And here’s a very nice welcome post that Madam Boing, Xeni Jardin, wrote to note my participation: boingboing.net.

Steve Reich Remix Awards: And the Waveform Is …

The winners of the Steve Reich remix contest were announced earlier today. It’s a lot of music to sort through, but for starters, a hypothesis, and a resulting observation.

Participants in the contest, in the true spirit of online collaboration and open-source music-making, were provided (for free — no pay-to-play here) the raw materials, the stems as they’re called, of the piece “2×5,” a kind of post-rock bit of chamber music newly composed by Reich. They then set to work, beat-battle style, to see who could make something interesting enough out of original to impress the composer himself. (The other judge was Christian Carey, a member of the composition faculty at the Westminster Choir College.)

This is Steve Reich we’re discussing, the minimalist most comfortable with, most at home amid, uniformity and repetition, as well as with the subtle shifts that evidence themselves therein. So, since the audio player of the service that hosted the contest, indabamusic.com, includes waveforms, the question that suggest itself is: How do the waveforms of winners compare and contrast with those of the losers? Or, in this case, not the losers, but the honorable mentions.

These first three waveforms are of the top three placing entries:

And these are the ten honorable mentions:

It seems fair to say that the three that won show considerably less internal variety than do the ones that they bested, at least in the manner this waveform algorithm indicates. Of course, these are just 10 out the numerous ones that were actually submitted, so this is not exactly a scientific investigation. There may be, for all I know, one among them that looks like a solid block.

If you want to give those remixes singled out by Reich himself a listen, here they are, starting with the winner, credited to Dominique Leone:

 

More on the contest at nonesuch.com.

My interview with Reich, and some of the contributing musicians, on the occasion of his 1999 Reich Remixed album here: “The Public Record.”

A Bloom Is a Bloom Is a Bloom (MP3)

When is a music app an instrument, and when is a music app an album? And if it’s neither, what is it? The questions arise as more and more apps come to suggest themselves as non-traditional instrumentation, to be employed by musicians. Perhaps the suggestion that an app is an instrument is meant philosophically, or casually — but even if it is meant rhetorically, what impact does that designation have? For example, if musicians choose to sample a track off the recent Brian Eno album, Small Craft on a Milk Sea, they have the option of paying a licensing fee, or of trying to slip the use under the radar and hope for the best. But what if musicians want to use the Eno iOS app Bloom on an album? The Bloom sounds, these synthetic petal drops, are clearly composed by Eno — but do they require a ride around the same sort of permissions merry-go-round as do Eno sounds produced for a proper album?

[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/bloom-classic-ambrette/bloom-classic-ambrette-79m-128mp3.mp3|titles=”Bloom Classic Ambrette (2010)”|artists=Brian Eno & Peter Chilvers & …]

Someone over at archive.org seems to be testing these boundaries, by posting lengthy (79-minutes in this case) MP3s (and other formats) of Bloom in action (MP3). The brief note accompanying the MP3 says it all:

Pre-generated audio from the Bloom iOS application.

This is Bloom in Classic mode with the Ambrette mood. It is 79m long.

It’s somewhat ironic to listen to a lengthy fixed recording of a software instrument that’s intended to sound different every time you use it. But the irony is tacit, a side point, to the main subject — and that subject is a question, questions that beget more questions: What is a recording of a lengthy stretch of Bloom? Is it an Eno ambient piece? A single? An album? A collaboration between Eno and the person who recorded it? One thing is for certain: It’s beautiful.

Track originally posted at archive.org. More on Bloom, which Eno developed with Peter Chilvers, at generativemusic.com.