A few months ago I began renting a small studio room to try and make stuff.
Then the organisation I was renting from said there was going to be a compulsory Open Studio event so I thought I should try a bit harder. And I built a machine to perform a piece by La Monte Young I've been interested in since I read Tom Whitwell's piece about attending a La Monte Young thing and I came across this video.
And I have form in piling up bits of gear and making ambient sounds come out. I like the multiple sound sources and the textures you get from blending various ages of technology. I made this, for instance, a while ago.
I started by trying to just pile things on top of each other (the inspirations are obvious) but that didn't get high enough so I bought a cheap industrial frame. I thought I was being very clever by putting it on wheeled platform to start with but it was too unstable, toppled over and smashed a lot of gear which was, frankly, depressing.
But eventually it settled into a form like this.
Which I quite liked.
I thought I'd see what it felt like to 'live with it' so I switched it on and left it running (very quietly) for several weeks. Not everything could loop without assistance but enough did that it managed to drone on gently to itself for a very long time. Every time I went in I filmed out of the window and that became 'To Be Held For A Very long Time'.
But then the Open Studio got cancelled and I was left with an oppressively large pile of old gear in a small room. So I dismantled it.
And while all this was happening I was getting a bit dissatisfied with the whole thing anyway. I was chatting with Tom (again) about this, which is clearly brilliant, but I don't think I have an educated enough sonic palate to really appreciate this kind of thing. It's what makes me a bad producer. I don't listen to detail in the way I probably should. I hear rhythm and melody and vibe but I watch YouTube tutorials about producing and 'rolling off the low-end and can never hear what they're on about. I have a similar feeling about listening bars. I love the idea of them but what interests me is the atmosphere and the enthusiasm and the patina. Not the hi fidelity. (Except that's probably the conceptual scaffolding for the whole thing.)
I don't want to visit a shrine to music. I just want to listen.
So now, I'm thinking about something that combines these two ideas.
First this thread from Scanner about the tiny, tinny low-fi radio that first inspired his love of music. And, actually, that seems like something to install in a gallery. Not the most perfect sound ever but an evocation of listening moments. John Peel on a crap transistor. The chart show on the terrible one-speaker stereo in the 6th form centre. Pirate radio in the car. The cricket in an armchair. Britney on an ipod. Taylor on a phone.
And then, the other weekend, we visited the Southwold Sailors Reading Room, which struck me as a very perfect space. It's for reading, a bit, but mostly it seems to be for sitting, chatting, listening and generally, amiably, being. So I think that's my next project for the studio.
I've started by putting the individual bits of the machine around the walls so its less to do with gazing at a piece of installation and more about being in a place that's making noises. I want to make it comfortable and pleasant. But full of interesting bits and. bobs. Like somewhere Jim Ede might have made if he was obsessed with MP3 players rather than pebbles. I still plan to perform 'To Be Held For A long Time' but now it'll be something to sit with rather than a shrine.
And I'd also like it to be a space for quiet jams. I'm hoping musicians will be able to respond to an interesting soundscape. And maybe we'll record it. And maybe I could do some interviews too. Or we can just listen to jazz on an average stereo.
