Silent Cacophony in Contemporary Indian Art

The recent exhibition of contemporary art from India at the San Jose Museum of Art — Roots in the Air, Branches Below — had numerous and welcome splashes of color and whimsy.

Key among them was Chintan Upadhyay‘s “Untitled (Designer Baby) (2008),” a painted doll caged like a songbird (pictured at left), its mouth open, though perhaps more likely to bite than to sing. The figure painted on its chest could just as easily be meant to imply that it has been consumed, rather than tattooed — which is to say, rendered mute. Also making an indelible impression was Aparna Rao and Soren Pors‘ “The Uncle Phone” (2004), a red rotary-dial device extended to an almost absurd 78 inches (shown up top). Despite the phone’s relative antiquity and seeming ineffectiveness, it is not a comment on the long-distance relations of tech workers; according to the artists, it takes its inspiration from an uncle who preferred someone else dial the phone for him. So, come to think of it, maybe the long red phone is about a communication disconnect, but that would be one of age and class, not of physical distance.

The most cacophonous piece in the show buried its visual noise in a field of apparent white noise, a loose haze gathered around a central, colorful figure. The work is “Sink” by Dhruvi Acharya, and it dates from 2007:

As the five details below show, that haze around the central figure is, in fact, a warzone. Images of violence — archaic weaponry, car wrecks, bombs — are accompanied by the cartoon onomatopoeia of their associated sounds: “bang,” “blam blam blam,” “fsssssshhh,” and so forth.

Word balloons often appear empty, serving double duty as traditional containers of written sound and as visualizations of explosions and exhaust.

Many of the sounds are drawn from familiar comic-book norms, but also there are more improvisatory effects like “spakk” and “poom” and “nnhh” and a “kreeeeee” with almost too many vowels to count. It’s worth noting that for all the war-like imagery, the message of the piece is said to be as environmental as it is pacifist, and Shiva’s trident links the contemporary concerns to Indian myth.

The line work of the figures (helicopters and guns, for example) is, by and large, indistinguishable from that of the sound effects. This renders them equal on the page, serving both to elevate the prominence of the sounds, but also to usher the collective drawings into the background, a fatalistic statement about the ubiquity of violence if ever there were one.

More on the exhibit at sjmusart.org. Roots in the Air, Branches Below ran from February 25 through September 4, 2011. (Dhruvi Acharya: “Sink,” 2007; Synthetic polymer paint on canvas and panels; 48 x 48 inches; Collection of Dipti and Rakesh Mathur; Photo: Courtesy Chemould Gallery, Mumbai; Copyright Dhruvi Acharya.)

The Top 10 Posts & Searches from September 2011

Topping the most popular posts on the site for the past month, out of a total of 33 posts, were (1) “Quantum Synaesthesia,” an overview of my most recent article for Nature (behind a paywall), an interview with the author of a new graphic novel about the work and life of acclaimed physicist Richard Feynman, a telling that emphasizes the synaesthesia inherent in the imagination of its hero, and (2) “Email Isn’t Free,” my most recent post at WeAllMakeMusic.com (“How to Use Email to Promote Your Music Without Alienating Your Audience”).

Six entries from the site’s Downstream department of free and legal recommended downloads made the list, including (3) “The Bees of War / The War of Bees,” on Apostolos Loufopoulos‘ martial act of anthropomorphism, (4) two pieces that use a plastic bottle as their source of sonic raw material (“The Post-Consumer Didgeridoo”), (5) the fragmented voyeurism of HMBKR‘s Radius podcast entry (“The Broken Vocal”), (6) the steampunk ambient of Stephen Vitiello‘s MASS MoCA installation, (7) Frenic‘s spaghetti-western trip-hop, and (8) Horchata’s spiritual drone.

Also making the top 10 were two entries from the automated weekly digests of what was posted at twitter.com/disquiet: (9) the one for the week ending September 10, and (10) the other for the week ending September 3.

The most popular post of the past 60 days is on the glitch of Jeff Gburek. The most popular post of the last 90 days is on Jared Smyth‘s innovative tape loop. And the most popular post of the past year is on slain Egyptian composer Ahmed Basiony.

Among the most popular search requests were: gold, makezine, alan morse davies, downloadsquad, radius, waveform, best 2011, dhomont, eno, ghosts and strings, outra-g, Robin Rimbaud, spacecraft, the truth about frank, wave.

Past Week at Twitter.com/Disquiet

  • The em-dash followed by the open quote is the bête noire of the ebook. #
  • Hardly Strictly Bluegrass happening a few blocks from my house. From here it's muffled, more like Almost Certainly Shoegaze. #
  • Thus far (10% in), Reamde is my favorite Neal Stephenson since Cryptonomicon. The plumbing of MMORGs is fascinating: R&D&D. #
  • Noon carillon filtered through library's walls, windows, and air conditioning. #
  • Listening to audiobooks in "fast" mode means expecting the narrator at any moment to interject, "I want to be … a dentist!" #
  • Continue reading “Past Week at Twitter.com/Disquiet”

The Kindle Fire Is Deaf

Note: There’s updated information in the comments section to this post.

Amazon.com earlier this week announced four additional items in its Kindle line of ebook readers.

One caveat for potential consumers, and for software developers: The new flagship Kindle device, named Fire, has no microphone.

The Fire is, of course, more than an ebook reader. While the three other newly announced Kindles (Kindle, Kindle Touch, Kindle Touch 3G) build on the line’s next-generation e-ink technology, the Fire is a tablet computer with a multi-touch color screen. The Kindle Fire is powered by a modified branch of Google’s Android operating system. Other non-Apple tablets and ebook readers are built on Android, and several have been targets of the affections and aspirations of hackers. The Nook, a product of Barnes & Noble, has likely been the most popular ereader for after-market tinkerers. Reports that Amazon will not aggressively derail those who seek to root the new Kindles (i.e., take control of the operating system; see liliputing.com) suggest that the Fire may soon rival the Nook in that regard.

The absence of a microphone, however, has unfortunate potential ramifications, especially if the Fire becomes a top-ranking Android device. For one thing, the popularity of microphone-enabled software will likely suffer — ranging from interactive sound applications like RJDJ (which takes sound in realtime from the microphone and makes new, musical sound out of it) to utilities like Shazam (which identifies songs based on them being “heard” via the microphone). Voice activation overall may be de-prioritized, should Fire gain significant market penetration. Companies may be less likely to innovate with such microphone-sensitive options as the Three Little Pigs children’s book app that makes good on the promise of blowing the house down, or the way the Clif Bar SOS iPhone app fogs up when you breathe into the microphone. Soundcloud.com’s Android app has a record function — will it need to devise an alternate version for deaf devices like the Fire? (Note: not all of these apps mentioned above are available for the Android operating system. They are simply mentioned as illustrations of the range of microphone-sensitive developement.)

The absence of the microphone emphasizes the Fire’s Kindle heritage: it is depicted as a device for consumption, not production. This is why the initial promotional materials for the Fire refer to how you, the Fire user, can “Read Your Documents” (rather than edit or create documents). The key concern is that consumption and production are not mutually exclusive; they are, in fact, two distant ends of a broad and gradated continuum. The apps mentioned above are in several cases examples where microphone use is part of the consumption.

In addition, the absence of the microphone nixes one of the staple utilities of mobile devices: the ability to take voice notes, which is arguably a better user experience when reading an ebook (or web page) than is momentarily switching one’s position in order to type notes.

The microphone is not the only immediately evident technology lacking in the Fire. Also missing are 3G support, and a camera. These absences have been explained collectively as means by which Amazon reached the Fire sale price of $199, which has been widely viewed as competitive (in response to the Amazon release announcement, Barnes & Noble for one day dropped the price of its Nook Color to $150 from $250; via mobilewhack.com). The absences also make for a certain amount of planned obsolescence, providing a simple path for Amazon to the Kindle Fire 2.0, which could add one or more of the missing features, much as cameras were added when the iPad 2 was introduced.

Certainly Android’s preeminence as a mobile-phone technology means that the operating system is, for the foreseeable future, linked to devices with microphones, but the absence of a microphone on the Kindle Fire is an unfortunate development.

More on the Kindle Fire at amazon.com.

And for reference, here are my thoughts on the iPad, a few days after its January 2010 announcement: “Avoiding iPad Bloat.”

Staking a Sonic Claim (MP3s)

The music in recent years from Alan Morse Davies often has had the appeal of life, as well as thought, experienced in slowest of slow motion. This is because his pieces have taken existing audio documents — of Western popular music, of Western classical music, and of the chanting from cultures less far along the Western sense of the development continuum — and extended their playing time by stretching them like so much sonic taffy, and thus revealing structures, textures, and meditative spaces inside the originals.

A new Davies album, titled Svalbard, and its subsequent single, the three-song Spitsbergen, employ pre-existing recordings as well, 78s by his description, but those always surprisingly malleable physical documents are merely one element among several, heard alongside the Welsh pibgyrn (bagpipe), the Italian zampogna (bagpipe) and ciamarella (shawm), and the hardanger fiddle, all of which he has then processed extensively. The results range, in his apt words, “from the relatively static to the dramatic.” All of them stake a claim on the landscape of the arctic Norwegian archipelago, Svalbard, which is their source of inspiration. We often speak of things being frozen in time, and that metaphor is particularly apt in sound that takes bitter cold environs as their subject matter. The tracks, for all their distinctions from one another, are inherently lovely, at times with a kind of extravagance that seems at odds with their placidity. Here are two, one from each of the two collections: “Kvitøya” (MP3), off Svalbard, and “Edgeøya” (MP3), off Spitsbergen.

[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/Svalbard-2011/S1.mp3|titles=”Kvitøya”|artists=Alan Morse Davies] [audio:http://www.archive.org/download/Spitsbergen-Single/3..mp3|titles=”Edgeøya”|artists=Alan Morse Davies]

How things just shy of frozen — frozen as in stasis, and frozen as in arctic — can feel so warm is but one of the mysteries of Davies’ approach.

The two sets are available for free download and streaming via archive.org: Spitsbergen (cover above right), Svalbard (cover above left). More on Davies at at-sea.com and alanmorsedavies.wordpress.com. (Photo up top by Per Harald Olsen, courtesy of wikipedia.org.)