Tangents: Maya, Zimoun, Matmos …

Recommended reading, news, and so forth elsewhere:

¶ Dancing About Architecture, the Early Years: The headline to a recent National Geographic story is “Ancient Maya Temples Were Giant Loudspeakers?” and the story lives up to the billing. The question mark is intentional, as the article is full of “maybe” this and “perhaps” that, but the brief is that ancient Mayan architecture (yes, may have) employed techniques for sound effects and audio projection: “For example, some rooms and their interconnected spaces multiply echoes and bounce them back at listeners so rapidly that sounds appear to emanate from every direction at once, Rick’s team found. … The effect, as well as the complicated floor plan, can be so disconcerting and disorienting that the team speculates the labyrinth was intentionally designed to confuse people inside.” (At nationalgeographic.com, via thedailyswarm.com and engadget.com.)



 

¶ Swiss Mix: The sound-installation artist Zimoun, based in Bern, Switzerland, is interviewed at earroom.wordpress.com: “The compositional aspects of my installations are less focused on getting from A to B but rather to create static sound architectures, which can be entered and explored acoustically like a building. The compositional focus lies on the altercation between void, density, space, structure, interfacing, static and balance.” (See above for video example of his work.)

¶ Scenes from a Marriage: Matmos sends a year-end missive with hints of what’s to come: “This turning over of the decade prompts us to continue to work on the new Matmos album, The Marriage of True Minds, an ongoing four year plot which just keeps thickening. You can also expect some surprising remixes, and some concerts in the spring in the United States and Europe in the summer, but we aren’t ready yet to get all TMI about that yet”: brainwashed.com/matmos.

¶ Re-Aligned: The Line record label, once a subset of the 12k record label, is now its own entity, run by Richard Chartier: lineimprint.com. Albums are due from Seth Cluett, Chartier himself, Seth Horvitz (aka Sutekh), and Asmus Tietchens — with “new works by Mark Fell, AGF and Steve Roden to be confirmed” (per an email announcement).

¶ Between Engagements: Speaking of Roden, his 20-year retrospective show at the Armory in Pasadena (armoryarts.org) will be moving next to the University Art Gallery at San Diego State University (sdsu.edu), he announced on his site today: inbetweennoise.blogspot.com. (I saw the show during a trip these past two weeks to Los Angeles, and hope to have some images and thoughts on it up on Disquiet.com shortly.)

¶ Hearing Aid: Touching story of a deaf, and generous, music lover: washingtonpost.com (via tabletmag.com).

¶ Age of Aquarius: Every year I submit my 10-fave list to two places: the Village Voice (for its long-running Pazz & Jop poll) and the record store Aquarius here in San Francisco. Needless to say, my list tends to feel more cozy amid those of fellow Aquarians: aquariusrecords.org.

¶ Borges’ Map: I joined the Internet-based service Quora recently, and “answered” my first “question” (i.e., “Who or what will be the eventual Facebook killer?”). Still sorting out what I think of the service, but for the time being I’m at quora.com/marc-weidenbaum.

¶ Year-End Murk: Happy to see that a Disquiet Downstream entry made Rob Walker‘s year-end list at murketing.com.

A Turntable and a Koto Record (MP3s)

With its echoes of Wagon Christ and Funki Porcini and DJ Krush and Kid Koala, Pendulum by San Jose, California-based Hypoetical builds old-school hip-hop beats from hazy fragments of melodramatic found sounds — an association Hypoetical engages with directly by titling the album’s 21st and final track, a three-minute rhapsody for thumping beat and a handful of piano notes, “Elevator Music” (MP3). Reissued recently online for free download by the great dustedwax.org netlabel, the album dates from 2001. Its best tracks, like “Elevator Music,” keep their source material relatively unmolested. “A Turntable and a Koto Record” (MP3) sounds like pretty much exactly that, though the koto’s strings are heard to make curt, terse repetitions, much like those in “Elevator Music,” that the instrument never would in its traditional setting. Likewise the murkily orchestral “The War Within” (MP3), which makes much of a briefly bowed cello. Other favorites include the eerie children’s melody of “Staring at My Eyelids” (MP3), the romantic whorl that is “Reminds Me of Dennis” (MP3), and the overtly cinematic “Flow Job” (MP3).

[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/DWK075/Hypoetical_-_21_-_Elevator_Music.mp3|titles=”Elevator Music”|artists=Hypoetical] [audio:http://www.archive.org/download/DWK075/Hypoetical_-_04_-_A_Turntable_And_A_Koto_Record.mp3|titles=”A Turntable and a Koto Record”|artists=Hypoetical] [audio:http://www.archive.org/download/DWK075/Hypoetical_-_02_-_The_War_Within.mp3|titles=”The War Within”|artists=Hypoetical] [audio:http://www.archive.org/download/DWK075/Hypoetical_-_16_-_Staring_At_My_Eyelids.mp3|titles=”Staring at My Eyelids”|artists=Hypoetical] [audio:http://www.archive.org/download/DWK075/Hypoetical_-_14_-_Reminds_Me_of_Dennis.mp3|titles=”Reminds Me of Dennis”|artists=Hypoetical] [audio:http://www.archive.org/download/DWK075/Hypoetical_-_11_-_Flow_Job.mp3|titles=”Flow Job”|artists=Hypoetical]

Get the full set of 21 tracks at dustedwax.org. If this weren’t already a decade old, much of it would be on my “likely” list for best netlabel releases of 2011. More on Hypoetical at hypoetical.net.

The Phonography of William Eggleston

The fields of phonography and photography have more in common than just 90 percent of their letters. Both practices at their most rudimentary level frame reality, phonography with a microphone and photography with a lens, and deliver it back to the world, and both also are known to employ extended techniques to further transform the original source material.

Still, we tend to judge one sense differently than we do another. Thus a family’s summer picnic, such as the sort that photographer William Eggleston might have documented during one of his many explorations of American life, has a more immediate audience as a photograph than as, say, an image-free recording of the sounds of that picnic. (The primacy of the visual in the fine arts was the subject of a recent Disquiet.com side project, Lowlands: A Collective Sigh, which was a response in sound to a nasty rant by a British art critic in regard to a sound-only work.)

A rare Eggleston video, titled Stranded in Canton, is currently on view as part of an extensive retrospective of his work at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. And the audio track of that video serves as a fine example of phonography, one that’s especially interesting because it bears the imprimatur of a master photographer. To begin with, the video breaks down any reverence for the still image — not just because the images move, not just because they are sometimes stripped of their vaunted singularity, and not just because the frame shuffles so loosely as to question the whole idea of a frame. These images are fragments, shot and shown in low resolution, close-ups of body parts, a hand on a guitar, legs severed from their bodies and lingering like columns, the camera moving so as to emphasize segments over the whole. They’re like the opposite of a synecdoche — we see the whole only as an assemblage of parts. And at times they appear in groups, as many as three at a time, so when one is left alone, it has the sense of something vestigial.

Democratic Ear: Three successive moments in William Eggleston’s Stranded in Canton

And in the process, the sound associated with these dream-like images serves less as a supporting audio track — with the exception of moments of actual musical performance — and more as a complementary element. As the wall text for the piece at LACMA states:

Stranded in Canton also offers a rare glimpse of Eggleston’s interest in sound. He captures, for example, rambling conversation, soliloquies, and guitar strumming by blues musician Furry Lewis.

Here, from youtube.com, is an exemplary segment of Canton:



 

Eggleston has a strong association with music, thanks in large part to his photos’ appearance on covers to record albums by Alex Chilton (who is seen in the video), Big Star, Joanna Newsom, and others, but for all its musical content, Stranded in Canton is as much about sound as it is about song.

Stranded in Canton was produced by Eggleston and Robert Gordon. More on the exhibit, which runs from October 31, 2010, through January 16, 2011, at lacma.org. The exhibit is titled William Eggleston: Democratic Camera — Photographs and Video, 1961”“2008, and it is housed on the LACMA campus at the Broad Contemporary Art Museum, Level 2.

A Radio Searching for a Signal (MP3)

Les Nostres Necessitats, the album with which the Panospria netlabel closed out 2010, is a great way to start 2011, opening, as the record does, with an extended piece whose primary sonic content is like an antiquated radio trying, madly and apparently in vain, to locate a signal over the course of its 10-plus minutes (MP3). The record, whose title translates into English as “Our Needs,” collects five tracks, all by Arnau Sala, including the gated echoes of “Processó Cap al Forat (Procession Towards the Hole)” and the fritzy static of “Mai Més (Never Again).” But the real keeper is this opening track, “Atraccions,” or “Attractions”:

[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/pan052/pan052-arnau_sala-1-atraccions.mp3|titles=”Atraccions (Attractions)”|artists=Arnau Sala]

By documenting the failure to locate a substantial enough signal on which to focus, the piece shows that the process of signal-locating, that waveform-shuddering turn of the dial familiar from cross-country trips and mountain passes, is itself a signal — one whose inherent sonic properties a listener might all too easily fail to appreciate unto itself.

Get all five tracks of Les Nostres Necessitats at notype.com.

More on at Barcelona-based Sala at arnausala.info.

The “Long Skinny Screams” of Roadside Cassettes

Back in 2002, Douglas Coupland published a short book that marked his own awakening sense of nationalism — an awakening that he suggests his home country as a whole, Canada, was itself still going through. Souvenir of Canada is a mix of mini-essays and photos, all documenting cultural objects that Coupland deems as inherently Canadian, from the empty vinegar bottle that appears on the book’s back cover to the packaged goods, publications, and apparel that figure in his striking still-life photographs.

In any case, in the process of describing the social and cultural implications of the Trans-Canada Highway, Coupland recounts how in 1979 he and a friend ventured to drive a car from Vancouver to Toronto:

I don’t know what we were thinking, because there was only one tape in the car (the Allan Parsons Project’s Pyramid), which was icily tripped out of its plastic casing and unwound across the Trans-Canada Highway just east of Calgary. Before that, I used to wonder why people left long strands of brown cassette tape on the freeway, and that was how I learned the answer: it is the psyche’s defence mechanism kicking into place in an effort to stave off distance-induced madness. They’re long skinny screams. They are haikus of the void.

This having been 2002, today’s cassette-culture retro movement — marked by cultural appropriation of the image, and also by the emergence of new cassette-only record labels — was almost a decade away. But Coupland’s observation isn’t valuable for its prescience. It’s valuable because of how he finds a particular emotional meaning in the physical object of a cassette tape. A broken cassette tape is different than a broken compact disc is different than a broken vinyl record.

The surface noise and scratches of vinyl are inherent factors in turntablism and hip-hop, and so-called glitch music was founded on the random-access skipping of CDs. The boombox has certainly staked its place, and it’s a place distinctly apart from the cassette tape, even though most boomboxes were cassette players. As for the decayed cassette tape, it has yet to fully find its own specific sonic niche (though from a visual perspective, Christian Marclay and others have mined it richly). In describing his sense of Canada’s emerging self-identity, Coupland manages to also hint at the self-identity of the cassette.

It’s also the funniest cassette-tape passage since 1990, when in the collaborative novel Good Omens, its authors, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, noted that any cassette tape left in a car for too long turns into a copy of Queen’s Greatest Hits.

(Above image of cassette from flickr.com courtesy of Moff, aka Mathew Wilson, and the Creative Commons.)