Daniela Cascella’s Writing Sound workshop > Tue 23 October, 1.30-6pm at The Northern Charter

October 11th, 2012

As part of our forthcoming internet radio exhibition, or-bits.com presents “128kbps objects” on basic.fm (22 – 28 October 2012), London-based writer Daniela Cascella will lead the workshop ‘Writing Sound’.

WHEN: Tuesday 23 October 2012, 1.30-6 pm
AT: The Northern Charter,
Fifth Floor,  Commercial Union House
39 Pilgrim Street
Newcastle upon Tyne, NE1 6QE
FREE, booking required as places are limited

The space of Writing Sound is the space of the distance between listening and writing, between being with sounds, when listening, and being distant from them, when writing. This workshop investigates the various degrees of distance from sounds, that can be enacted in writing as a response to listening. It looks at Writing Sound as an autonomous creative activity, constantly re-shaped by how we place ourselves and how we shape our memories – culturally and personally – in the absence of sounds and in the presence of every other today. Throughout the close reading of a series of texts, and a number of listening and writing exercises,
the participants will interrogate, probe and analyse Writing Sound as a critical and creative practice.

Daniela Cascella is a writer based in London and author of En Abîme: Listening, Reading, Writing (Verso Books, 2012). Since the nineties her research has been focused on listening and sound, across a range of publications, curated projects, lectures and workshop. Recent texts and projects (2010/2011) were presented at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, Off the Page festival in Whitstable, ICA and Cut&Splice Festival in London. Daniela as also worked extensively as a journalist and curator specialising in Sound Art, producing and curating projects for museums such as the National Gallery of Modern Art in Rome and the British School at Rome.

Workshop is free but it can only take a limited number of participants.

To book your place please send an email to info@or-bits.com, including the following information:
• your name
• up to 50 words on your particular interest in this workshop, and what you hope to get from attending
• a website if you have one

For more information please email info@or-bits.com

Cascella will also present a reading from her book En Abîme: Listening, Reading, Writing as part of the radio show that will be broadcast on Tuesday 23 October.

“128kbps objects” is supported using public funding by Arts Council England in partnership with basic.fm. basic.fm is a Pixel Palace project. Pixel Palace is a creative digital media programme based at the Tyneside Cinema, Newcastle upon Tyne.

OPEN CALL for or-bits.com presents “128kbps objects” on basic.fm

September 17th, 2012

We are inviting artists to submit work for inclusion in the project 128kbps objects, a week-long internet radio broadcast on basic.fm that will explore the idea of objects in transformation.

The project 128kbps objects will look into contemporary notions of object-hood across a variety of artistic practices, mediums and sites, investigating the potentials of displaying objects sonically. It will take into considerations the characteristics of the web-tool employed, the internet radio, such as the erasure of visual language, the loss of direct interaction with artistic content, the relationship between speed and quality, for which, for instance, all the sonic data above quality threshold of 128 kilo bytes per second are cancelled out.

How would an object manifest itself, be thought of, described or narrated when its inherent material quality are taken away, when the viewer is not confronted with its visual appearance? How can an art object be thought of in relation to the nature of its reception and social presence within the context of an internet radio broadcast?

Many and varied are the discourses about the relationship between object-hood, medium and distribution, starting from Walter Benjamin’s observations on mechanical reproductions, and many are the trajectories these discourses have opened up: from looking at base materiality to social interaction, from the aura of the work of art to the disappearance of medium-specificity.
For Maurice Merleau-Ponty “to turn an object upside-down is to deprive it of its meaning” because it looses its spatial coordinates when confronted with the viewer, it looses its “natural position”. (in “Phenomenology of Perception”, 1945). Rosalind Krauss discusses spatiality through looking at the relationship between the object and the viewer’s field, and when writing about Robert Smithson’s mirrors in thw work “Enantiomorphic Chambers” (1964), says “it is not just the viewer’s body that cannot occupy this space, then, it is the beholder’s visual logic as well; Chambers explores what must be called a kind of “structural blindness”” (in “Formless. A User’s Guide”, 2007). Others, such as writers and critics more concerned with the status of the digital object or the so-called Post-Internet art, write about objects in connection to current “Internet-users tactics” employed by artists (Artie Vierkant in “The Image Object Post-Internet”, 2010), focusing on information dispersion, multiplicity of formats and convergence of mediums; “objects have lost exclusive singular spatial properties. They exist and manifest in fluid forms through different media. In this, there is no moral hierarchy or pure differentiation in authenticity” as Gene Gene McHugh writes in the press release of Harm van den Dorpel’s show “Rhododendron” at W139 in Amsterdam (“Endless Problem”, 2011).

or-bits.com has invited an array of artists, new and already featured on its online exhibitions, writers, curators and organisations to create a work or represent an existing one in response to the above text.

We also want to open up this project to other artists we don’t know and we are looking for contributions that will reflect and expand on these themes, or question them.
If you would like to take part to the project please follow the submission details and complete the form on basic.fm website.
Deadline: 8 October 2012

We look forward to receiving your contributions,
or-bits.com and basic.fm

Dead Days Beyond Help: Letters

July 16th, 2012

Unlike the pieces in our previous entries, which were both unpremeditated improvisations, “Letters” is a fully composed piece written over the course of several months’ rehearsals. Like our first post Rehearsal Improvisation, the version of Letters heard here was recorded at a DDBH band practice for documentation/reference purposes. When this piece is eventually rerecorded for the purpose of inclusion on a commercially released album, the guitar and drums will be supplemented by additional overdubbed instrumentation. That version will embody the ultimate intention for the composition; however, the recording posted here reflects the way we experienced the material during the composition process and the form the piece takes when it is performed live.

Informal Documentation (2)

July 2nd, 2012

In the project in progress „Transformation of Experience“ (see Wiencek & Lauke 2011), Stephanie Sarah Lauke (KHM Cologne) and myself are currently working with an informal approach to documentation. We are developing an approach to (re)mediate the aesthetic experience of a video installation into a digital display by developing a simulative and a transformative display model, which should highlight the experiential possibilities of the installation, with the goal of offering a meta-experience or at least a mental representation of possible experiences of the installation. Thereby our research focuses on the theoretical implications and limitations of a translation of experience and strengthens the interpretative component of these transformations. The aim is to create an understanding of the possible experiences in a specific installation and to find a workable solution, which can be used in everyday documentation work. In the project we develop a simulative approach, where we use virtual 3D space as target display for translation of a moving image installation, whereas in a transformative approach we attempt to adapt and actualize the structure of installative works towards the language and affordances of the target medium for documentation, while attempting to enable a meta-experience for the user. In this project the subjectivity and transformation of the experience is an interpretative process, where we have to make assumptions based on our own subjective experiences and the knowledge of the artistic concept.

In my previous post I defined informal documentation – in relation to what I called „formal“ documentation – as a subjective point of view, a personal interpretation and expression, where the sum of individual perspectives can lead to a broader image of an art project. In this post I want to explore some other aspects of informal documentation of media art projects.

 

informal – inform – in formation – formation – form

 

Looking at the word informal more closely, several attributes, which describe the characteristics of documentation, come to my mind. In the following I will walk you through my thoughts about this little wordplay.

Let me start with the aspect of information. A documentation informs the recipient about an art project through communicating an abstract, mental representation of it. But following Claus Pias’ (2003) notion of information theory, information „is not about what is said, but about what could be said“ (Pias 2003, 1, translated by the author); a concept which strengthens the potentiality of the documentation. Following on this, an informal documentation should go beyond the factual surface and should affect the viewer, talk to our senses, convey a meta-experience, i.e. a mental representation of what the experience of a project could be like. This is especially important if you can’t experience the project directly, but have to rely on a (re)mediation of it. This also means that such a documentation should involve the documentarist’s own as well as other visitor’s personal experiences and therefore, as shown in the project „Botaniq“, the documentation becomes a subjective, (co-)creative expression; a work in its own right which maintains a relation with the documented art project.

As I have already mentioned in my previous post, an informal documentation is a starting point rather than an endpoint in the sense of Jon Ippolito’s description of a label in his text „Death by Wall Label“: “Wall labels are the pins that fix the butterflies of new media to museum walls.“ Instead of trying to fixate an art project, any documentation of a media art project (also a formal one) should always be in formation. In the same way in which the documented projects are process based – and therefore they are constantly evolving or, at most, they reach a temporary endpoint – their documentation can never be finished, but can only be a work in progress if it wants to capture the processual nature of the project. But even more, if one takes the notion of documentation as a starting point for re-experience, conversation and active interpretation seriously, documentation should ideally evolve and get richer through the engagement of the users and by them adding to it. This follows the concept of critical art mediation („Kritische Kunstvermittlung“) of Carmen Mörsch (2011), which advocates for producing new knowledge together with the visitors and fostering their personal reflection and interpretation of an art project. According to Eva Sturm an artistic project can serve as a source for inquiry, and for the exploration of the project artistic methods can be employed or the artistic process of the project in question can be taken up (cf. Sturm 2011). This process of knowledge production needs an open and co-creative environment.

However, a documentation is also formative in the sense that it forms the recipient’s view on a project. It is a construction, something formed in itself, shaped for example by decisions about what to include or exclude, by archival politics, or by it context of production and presentation. Any documentation is also formed by decisions regarding the representation of the data. This includes the materiality and mediality of the documentation, i.e. the characteristics of a medium itself, which in itself constrains its accessibility and affordances. If the documentation is digital or it is presented in a digital form, the software and the interface determines our perception of the data or the media artifacts as well as our possibilities to interact with them. Software in turn is a cultural product itself, based on decisions made by software developers (cf. Manovich 2011), and interfaces have their own grammar of actions and metaphors (cf. Manovich 2001). They shape the „inbetween“ between the user and the documentation. At the same time these factors shape the creative possibilities and production of a documentation and can be creatively employed when thinking about documentation as creative expression, as interpretation and as translation. This is especially true for art projects, where interfaces play an important role, which have to be translated to provide a meta-experience.

Another interesting aspect with regard to mediality is the indexicality of documentation, especially if the latter is created by using an automated process. How „real“ is the image that a documentation delivers? If one looks for example at the indexicality of photography (in the sense of semiotics), its direct connection to the depicted seems to be evident at first sight in that photography is regarded as a mechanical reproduction of the real world. But if one thinks of staged photography, where – as A.D. Coleman (1983) defines it – the photographer intentionally creates events to photograph them, for example by interfering with real events, and something happens which would not happen without the action of the photographer. That way the image rather depicts the inherent reality of the image (Bildwirklichkeit), which is created with and for the image. Even if the process of capturing might be regarded as „objective“, the inherent staging and framing makes for a subjective point of view. Therefore it doesn’t refer to actual, but to a potential past, leaving it up to the interpretation of the viewer to complete the image (cf. Blunck 2010, 14/15). This strengthens the role of imagination in forming an image of an art project in the recipient’s head. To enable this imaginative process, it is important to leave space for the own interpretation of the viewer. Norman M. Klein (2009) argues, when writing about database novels, that the use of disruptions in the exploration of data creates gaps and absence to be filled by the imagination of the “user”. These gaps foster mental interactivity with the narrative and are the spaces where new knowledge can emerge by fostering the active interpretation of the recipient. This opens up documentation for co-creative knowledge production.

 

To summarize: an informal documentation should go beyond informing about formal aspects of a project towards taking up its formative potentials and convey a meta-experience of a project by employing the formal qualities and affordances of a documentation creatively. Informal documentation should be an evolving co-creative process of knowledge production involving visitors, documentarists and artists, acknowledging the multiplicity of „potential pasts“ (quoting Sheila Dillon, Duke University), leaving spaces to mentally involve the recipients and fostering their own interpretation to complete a mental image of an art project.

 

References

Blunck, L. (2010). Fotografische Wirklichkeiten. In L. Blunck (Ed.), Die fotografische Wirklichkeit. Inszenierung – Fiktion – Narration (pp. 9-36). Bielefeld: transcript Verlag.

Coleman, A.D. (1983). Inszenierende Fotografie. Annäherung an eine Definition [amerik. 1976]. In: Kemp, Wolfgang (Ed.): Theorie der Fotografie III. 1945 − 1980. München : Schirmer/Mosel. 239-243.

Ippolito, J. (2008). Death by Wall Label. Retrieved January 8, 2010, from http://thoughtmesh.net/publish/printable.php?id=11.

Klein, N. M. (2009). Spaces Between: Traveling through Bleeds, Apertures and Wormholes inside the Database Novel (pp. 137-152). In: P. Harrigan & N. Wardrip-Fruin (Eds.). Third Person. Authoring and Exploring Vast Narratives. Cambridge, MA; London : The MIT Press.

Manovich, L. (2001). The language of new media. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press.

Manovich, L. (2011). There is only Software. WRO 2011 Reader – 14 Media Art Biennale WRO 2011 – ALTERNATIVE NOW. Retrieved April 13, 2011, from http://wro2011.wrocenter.pl/site/reader/manovich_en.pdf.

Mörsch, C. (2011). Allianzen zum Verlernen von Privilegien: Plädoyer für eine Zusammenarbeit zwischen kritischer Kunstvermittlung und Kunstinstitutionen der Kritik. In N. Lüth & S. Himmelsbach (Eds.), medien kunst vermitteln (pp. 19-31). Berlin: Revolver Publishing.

Pias, C. (2003). Das digitale Bild gibt es nicht – Über das (Nicht-)Wissen der Bilder und die informatische Illusion. Retrieved June 15, 2009, from http://www.zeitenblicke.historicum.net/2003/01/pias/index.html.

Sturm, E. (2011). Von Kunst aus spucken. Vermittlung und (von) Medien/Kunst (aus). In N. Lüth & S. Himmelsbach (Eds.), medien kunst vermitteln (pp. 62-70). Berlin: Revolver Publishing.

Wiencek, F. & Lauke, S. S. (2011). The Remediation of Experience. A Case Study. Proceedings of the ISEA 2011 conference. http://isea2011.sabanciuniv.edu/paper/remediation-experience-case-study.

INFORMING AURAL MEMORIES: A DIPTYCH (2)

May 31st, 2012

[continued  from A Diptych (1)]

2. The Next Day

An aural experience past, tangled with the forming and the informing of a memory: what is retained of it in writing? What does writing do to the aural memory?

Today I read a sentence by Paul Klee from 1928: ‘There are some problems to be posed, such as: the construction of the secret’. At the time he was most concerned with the interplay of painting and the feelings that move its making; with forming a visible surface while keeping hidden the fleeting element of sensation – a portion of experience which cannot be treated as a concluded whole but only in metamorphosis. The construction of each new work – what appears, what is given – is closely tied to the consideration of the hidden, ephemeral substance that prompts it.

I think of how I constructed the sound of that chainsaw in words. I told you of a sky slate grey and uniform, and of a verse from a poem attached to that sound. I didn’t tell you of the dust specks flying against the rays of a
polluted white light, and of the smell of freshly cut wood mixed with the nasty stench of sugar beet, that marked a visit to my grandparents in a suburban town in Southern Italy in the late seventies, when I first heard the sound of a chainsaw ever. I didn’t tell you of an early morning when I walked in a city along its old crumbling walls, watching faded halos and half-lit wall paintings in churches: that day I read for the first time the verse by Gerard Manley Hopkins; I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day, which was to be tied forever to a certain morning light and to the sound of a chainsaw from a street nearby. And yet my words around the chainsaw sound are informed by both moments: the light and sky I described are the same as those in the former memory, and from the latter I took black silhouettes of trees, clouds like gags, a slit of deep orange dawn light first opened on the cardboard surface of the sky, then splattered all around till its edges are soaked with red and there is no time to brush it away, to dilute it with the tears of a past.

The sound of a chainsaw cut into the fabric of my past and opened a slit into a near-audible growth of mutable material, that suddenly appeared alive and sounding out of the still and dumb reassurance of ‘what used to be’. How is such mutable material fixed into words?

In forming a memory of a certain sound through writing, the conventional need might arise for a ‘behind the scenes’ and a ‘before the sound’. A lot of ‘behind’ and ‘before’ in fact, canonically. I could not capture the behind and before of the chainsaw sound as such: I can tell what stayed with me as an impression, I can give space to the experiential texture of words, lights, movement attached to my words as they gradually shape that sound. Maybe I did not even want to capture that sound as such. Better to let it fade through time, then to begin and construct its secret as a palimpsest of memories and experiences scarred with other words, stories, descriptions of places and people; to let it emerge from layers and layers of varied matter, until it feels so close because it’s closer to my understanding of it now, not to the dead reassurance of its past.

As I stitch together my broken utterances and let the resulting off-centred construction clash with any concluded ideas of perfection and permanence, I realise that a distinctive pace holds each memory of a sound together: I can’t mask or disguise it as it takes shape. Is it an involvement with a secluded presence, a trick of the mind, a search for a sense belonging to a past that cannot be entirely manifested, affected? If shaping a sound in writing is arbitrary, nonetheless it demands to construct the arbitrariness with rigour: a rigour true to one’s own life. If it has to do with understanding, it does so literally by standing under the layered substance of experience – which is not authority, but attention. It carries the responsibility of making a shape. It is the scrupulous questioning and forming of a where – the space where I choose to be every other day in writing after listening: a space that veils and reveals its internal cohesion in the making.

I hear the sound of the chainsaw in my mind: in my recollections. Its shrill monotonous hum slits a sharp line over the timeline of a time past; it opens time up against the four walls around. The afterlife of a sound ties in modes of listening, of being and having been, of addressing and affecting change. To write after listening is to create a space by hints and to summon other voices. To write after listening is to caress aural experiences first, only to grasp them firmly later: to hold a soft cloth in one hand, the hatchet in the other. To wrap up sounds in stories, in tales of walks and wonders, in facts and bits from the past – layers of memories of other words – and then to slit those memories open, to shred and re-collect them today.
I want to look at all this closer. I want to write of the slow absorption of absence and the sudden cuts in it. Of certain recurring cadenzas and twists of phrase, that rise from what is not there but resonates. I want to write of being removed, of being in that void and then filling it – of memories that seem aural at first but that in fact enwrap the whole being: not the ‘very’ experiences of sounds but their afterimages through stories, other books and tales of walks and wonders, bits shredded from the past.

Each sound-memory moves on. I write it: I embrace it, I slit my understanding. Two movements appear in writing sound: the embracing and the slitting. Understanding what is made to believe as real, is only possible after a cut, as Pier Paolo Pasolini showed in his illuminating essay Observations on the Long Take. Only when the ‘chaos of possibilities, a search for relations among discontinuous meanings’ is given shape and is organised, does it generate meaning. Until then, it is an untranslatable chaos of possibilities.

The history of each aural memory is a rolling tape of possibilities that you hammer down with the singular bolts and studs of your own making, molded and carved through the years. A glimpse of thoughts profound and far away covers words with a veil of remoteness, yet you cannot halt the urgency and rhythm of today: quick, it touches the border of real.

It has to end here: between the fading of words out of a silenced aural memory and the withdrawal into another silence, between the emergence and the withdrawing, the embrace and the slit. Words can trigger a shock of recognition through the prism of a reported experience of sound, reflected on today: not searching for any conclusive sense, but thinking of how each where shapes aural memories. Think of the slit and the construction of the secret, question the edges of each where.

– –

Reading list:

– Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day…’, in Poems and Prose, London: Penguin Books, 1953p. 62

– Paul Klee, ‘Recherches exactes dans le domaine de l’art’, in Bauhaus, 1928

– Pier Paolo Pasolini, ‘Observations on the Long Take’ (1967), trans. Norman MacAfee and Craig Owens, in October, vol. 13, (Summer, 1980), pp. 3-6