So i am not going to blog about today’s happenings (or I guess it’s yesterday’s, now) but instead talk about Thursday.  I moved all day Thursday, so the only event I made it to was Francisco López.
It was an amazing show, which took place at the Kitchener-Waterloo Children’s Museum (which is wonderful because there are child-sized doors as well as adult-sized doors).  There were four large speakers set up in four corners of the space, and the chairs faced out from eachother in all four directions, with Mr. López in the middle.  There were blindfolds, and there was sound.  All different sounds, some recognizable as his famed field recordings, but many just pure Sound. The word that popped into my head while I was listening was “visceral.” I’m not sure why, as upon looking it up in the dictionary it means “of or pertaining to the soft internal organs of the body,” but I think perhaps it reflects on how physical the sound was.  It surrounded us, and I felt like I was hearing something palpable.  It wasn’t a soundscape, it wasn’t an imitation of anything, it existed as a thing unto itself. And since I was blindfolded (so my eyes were closed), and sitting still in a dark place, and exhausted from moving, I listened to this sound in that hazy place between sleep and awake, and I am left with sensations rather than memories.

I did a short email interview with Francisco López several weeks ago, which I never ended up writing up nicely and sending to Peter (I am sorry Peter!), but here it is.

Q: Do you create your music for yourself or for the audience?

A: First and foremost for me, but then the choices I make and the way I
preset live is definitely designed and worked out with an audience in mind.

Q: There is a complicated lineage of electronic musicians and composers.
Who do you consider your influences and artistic forbears?

A: I wouldn’t think of artists I admire in those terms but here are some
names anyway: Asmus Tietchens, Jani Christou, Alan Splet, Lull, Crawl Unit,
The Hafler Trio, Whitehouse, Gianfranco Pernaiachi…

Q: What is the difference between noise and sound? Sound and music? How big
of a part does intention play in these distinctions?

You might be aware that these questions occupy volumes and many many years
of discussions in Western and even non-Western music / sound practices, but
to put it somehow in simple terms: sound as a category includes noise,
which is for some people an annoying sub-category of sound, and for others
(much more minoritary) a type of “artistic” practice. Music would also be a
sub-category of sound, although going beyond technical considerations I
always liked best Cioran’s way of referring to music:

“Without the imperialism of concept, music would have taken the place of
philosophy: we would have had a paradise of inexplicable evidence” [Emile
Cioran]

Intention? Well, I’d say that is precisely “intention” –will, perhaps- what
actually makes music out of sound, instead of musical education or skill to
play an instrument, as most people would take it.

Q: What has been the project you are most proud of–the one you feel is
either the culmination of your work or a representation thereof?

A: For a passionate composer like myself this is like asking which one of
your kids you feel more proud of Anyway, there’s this piece I did with
recordings from Costa Rica (where I lved for a few years), called “Addy ien
el país de las frutas y los chunces” that I absolutely love, and that was a
very crucial work in relation to my experience in ranforests.

Q: What other kinds of music are you interested in? Do you have a favourite
composer or artist?

A: A recent list of “pick-10-albums/songs” favourite recordings I did for
Dusted Magazine included Eraserhead’s soundtrack, Joao Gilberto, Meshuggah,
Werkbund, Mnemonists, Crawl Unit, Luis Miguel, Incapacitants, Gianfranco
Pernaiachi and The Residents. Just to give a few examples.

Q: What kind of sounds do you hope to record when you do field recordings?
Is it more the atmosphere of a place, or  specific sounds?

A: Definitely more the “atmosphere”. I’m very interested in sound as space,
but we should keep in mind that a sound recording is precisely that and its
features as a representation of reality are, to me, the least interesting
ones.

Q: What is the purpose of restricting your audiences vision by performing
in darkness or distributing blindfolds?

A: A very straighforward one: to allow them to discover all what we
normally miss when we can see. Sense deprivation is a strategy to enhance
and explore the tremendous potential of our perceptive, synaesthetic and
phenomenological capabilities.

So I forgot to mention that the KWS did a performance of John Cage’s 4′33 at their concert last weekend. I shouldn’t have forgotten, because I have opinions about what they did. Their interpretation was to act like they were playing, like there were parts written for each instrument specifically. Now, I know in the piano version, the soloist is supposed to turn pages. But the symphony musicians lifting their instruments as if to play and putting them down again periodically over the course of the piece struck me as…irreverent? The audience’s (or at least *my*) focus was on what the musicians were (or weren’t) doing, rather than on the sound around me (which is the entire point of the piece). The point of 4′33 isn’t “I’m not playing any music” but “the music is all around you.”

RED CHAMBER
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to make it to Red Chamber (I was crewing for Hard Rubber Orchestra), but I sent an emissary! And gave her my camera and a notebook for notes. So to Amanda Lowry, flutist and fellow composer/improvisor, many thanks.

A quartet of lovely Asian women, Red Chamber play traditional ethnic instruments, but often play non-traditional things. Much of their music is composed by Canadian contemporary composers, like Farshid Samandari (”Rays of Hope”), Moshe Danburg (”The Dark Red Ruby”), and members of the ensemble.
Highlights of the concert included a piece from 917 AD, for which the scores were locked up until very recently (”Crazy harmonics!” “Meditative” “the plucking style of rapidly alternating fingers was a very unique sound!”), the world premiere of Moshe Danburg’s “The Dark Red Ruby” (sounds less Chinese, with more influences from rock, parts are reminiscent of polka…), “Spring at the Heavenly Mountain” (from the 1970s, its melody is ancient, and the introduction pays tribute to the Persian origin of the Ud), “A Dream of Africa” by Vancouver composer John Oliver, which mixed African and Chinese cultures in an interesting way, and an arrangement of John Cage’s “3 Dances” for two prepared pianos, for which the performers prepared their instruments (”COOLEST. THING. EVER.”)

HARD RUBBER ORCHESTRA

I crewed for Hard Rubber Orchestra, and it was an adventure! The Waterloo Entertainment Centre is in its last stages, about to be torn down, and for good reason. There are 3 outlets for the entire stage. THREE. That’s it. And no lighting, so we had to bring some in, and yes, it blew fuses. Twice. We had to be careful after that, but with monitors and lights and all manner of other things to plug in, the stage was a giant, terrifying maze of extension cords and powerbars. I think Jeff was probably freaking out inside, but he hid it well.
I was less-than-excited about the show when I heard the band warming up, to be honest. Most of the stuff they warmed up with sounded like generic-modern-big-band music.
They opened with a bowed guitar + effects thing, which wasn’t what I expected at all–and exceeding my expectations proved to be a pattern for the rest of the concert. The music slipped seamlessly from Romantic to Latin to Swing to Ska to an insane violin concerto which Cameron the violinist wrote and played masterfully. “Madcap” is how it was described, and I can’t think of a better word. The musicians were all strong, the blend was good, and the solos were sizzling. The best part, though, was a freeform trombone solo. The four of them stood up, everyone else stopped playing, and they began doing lip slides and extended techniques and making this incredibly cloudy and complex little solo which made me sit up and listen. Gorgeous!
The ensemble, in my humble opinion, definitely lived up to their title (which I love) of “Godzilla of the Vancouver Jazz Scene.”

Yesterday I did *everything* to do with Open Ears, except “Harbingers of Spring” (which you can find excellent depictions of at both The Omniscient Mussel and TeleViper).

I got up fairly early and bombed over to Victoria Park in Kitchener for a Soundwalk with Murray Schafer. Murray Schafer! It is so surreal to spend in-person-time with someone I learned about in high school music class as a Maker of Music History. I have been so pumped about meeting him (quick note: I was too much of a coward to talk to him on Saturday, but we did chat a little when I went again this morning!) The soundwalk on Saturday was much better for me than the one today, mainly because there were a lot of musicians and artists in the Saturday group (and not very many in the Sunday group), so they knew what soundwalks were about and *didn’t talk*, and also it was a much, much smaller group on Saturday.  Fewer than 20 people as compared to 40 or 50.

The soundwalk began with Murray Schafer playing some listening games with us, having us point to where sound was coming from, and numbering us off, assigning us numbers and animal sounds, and having us find eachother blind.  This last game had the amazing upside of getting to see Edwin Outwater make monkey sounds, and really good ones too, thanks to Clara Hilts (who is one of my favourite people ever).

He then took us, walking quietly and not talking, down some paths in the park, pausing every now and then to ask us questions about what we heard. I didn’t really talk (because when I listen, I listen, okay?), but there was a decent array of sounds, and I found myself listening deeper the longer I walked.When we reached a parking lot in downtown Kitchener, Murray stopped us and handed out blindfolds, then proceeded to lead us all blindfolded around the block, with a few sighted guides to make sure we were not going to die. We gathered again in a second parking lot (when I took my blindfold off I discovered were outside The Ren, and I was happy), and Murray made a bunch of sounds for us to identify, and tried to get us to figure out what kind of space we were in through sound alone. It was *awesome* (on Saturday), and I walked away feeling deeply tuned in.

NAGATA SHACHU

I went to see the Taiko drumming demonstration after that, and it was everything ethnic percussion concerts are, but nothing more.  There was energy, there were cross-rhythms, but as usual I got distracted by the little things: they had amazing white slippers with two toes! (Like a camel! Oh  man!) It was good, though. The guy who seemed to be the leader was super-happy and exuded that “I’m so excited” feeling like it was coming out of his skin. The stances they took while drumming were intended to reflect Japan’s fisherman history, so that was neat.  I got a couple of clips, but the sound is *terrible*.  I’ll post one anyway, so you can see the rocking back and forth they do when they play.

WARNING: Turn your speakers down or off! I am not kidding when I say the sound is terrible.

DIVA/Eve Egoyan/David Rokeby

DIVA, or DIgital Voice Actor is  a cybernetic glove which is a speech synthesizer.  By moving one’s hand, one is able to create pitch, consonants, and vowels.  The 4:00 concert had as its first half, an introduction to this piece of machinery, and the only piece of music in existence that can use it.  The lady wearing the suit (I didn’t catch her name) had a very pleasant voice–in tune and focused, but not operatic or over-trained.  The machinery, however cool in concept, was perhaps not quite there, and I am fairly certain it broke down halfway.  Still, though, I enjoyed it. Her costume struck me as very Cyberpunk, and so did the glove–even her text was Cyberpunk–”What does a system know? What does a body know?”–and I like Cyberpunk. A lot.

The lighting for the stage was phenomenal! (Proper respect, Alex!)

The second half was Eve Egoyan playing the piano and creating fantastic images on a screen, images which responded to her dynamic, register, and colour. There were five stages: the first was an image of the inside of a piano, and her playing created ripples on the surface. The second was coloured circles on a black screen. The third was flat surfaces that looked like a Seussian tower, the fourth was dancing, brightly-coloured lines, and the final image was a scene of buildings, and her playing created rain and a bicyclist, which was adorable. Here are some of the images her playing created:

EVERGREEN CLUB GAMELAN

I lived in Singapore when I was younger, and got exposed to all kinds of music–I even own several gamelan instruments from a voyage to Indonesia–but I’ve never actually heard gamelan live (I don’t *think*).  The sounds are so bright and brilliant, and in the church they ring forever (even if the pew set up is horrible so no one can see what the haps are and they weren’t letting anyone sit in the Gallery–why? That is so silly. Churches are paranoid androids). It was beautiful, and it made me start wonderinging if a DIY gamelan could be made out of old pots and things.

The first half consisted of a  piece by John Cage meant to represent Haiku, but it didn’t come off as well as I’m sure it has in the past. The space seemed like awkward rather than pregnant pauses, and I kept hoping wondering if every pause would be the end. The violin concerto which followed it was a far better thing.  It was written by Lou Harrison and it was gorgeous.  The second half was even better–there was a second Cage piece which was better than the first by far, there was an amazing work by Gordon Monahan for gamelan and prepared piano which I loved, and there was a final Lou Harrison piece, which had a tender melody played through on an instrument with a timbre like a cross between a celeste and a sober glockenspiel.

Once I had given up trying to see (and being cross about not-seeing), I really enjoyed the concert. And at intermission, I walked out into the lobby to see Glenn Buhr talking to none other than John Oswald! That was another kind of surreal thing, since I studied him this year in my Electroacoustics class. Do I need to get used to encountering people I have learned about in school?

THE BOOKS

Oh Em Gee, The Books.
An audience of hipsters? Indeed!
Nick the guitar is having a good time
Paul de Jong is a professional always
But they are both incredible artists.

(Onscreen) Black and white video
A man takes off his hat
A man takes off his hat
A man takes off his hat
A hatted man takes off his glasses

(Onstage) It is Art with a subtle sense of humour,
Well-crafted, warm, melodic folk thickened
With a molasses-cello and
Speech-clips saying things that are
Strangely inspired

“For the first time in the history of the world, a young girl climbed into a tree
She climbed down from the tree next day, God Bless Her.”

(Onscreen)One patient, many therapists
All nod, all support
All come off crazier than the subject.

Hunters argue with their goose calls
In my head: “I have made reeds that sound like that”
The geese chill with their homies.

(Onstage) Soundclips from TalkBoys
Kids’ recordings, some of which
Are life-threatening.
Nick mouths the words of his favourites.
I would like to be friends with Nick’s brothers,
With their awkward tape recordings, crazy penguins, and mad skillz
I would not like to be Nick’s small child;
That alphabet song was terrifying.

(Onscreen) “Relax. Let Go. Gallbladder.”

A baby sits in a hat and endures
A teacup on its head.
A grocery store floor littered with cans
Clips from Our Heroes’ Home Videos
8-frames to a 16th note

“With love. And with the passage of food over many years.”

(Onstage) They seem so humble
Playing music for the sake of itself.
An odd combination of people
An odd combination of sound and sight

“Here is a new song about the circulatory system.”

BLUE DOT

Blue Dot was, as it was described to me, an Arts Rave (in the brochure as “not a rave”).  Now, that said, it wasn’t a particularly hardcore, scary rave.  It was artsy people dancing, and lots of crazy projections on the wall, and so on.  There was even a neat “quiet time” room with carpeting and a projection of the night sky on the ceiling.  The Tannery is usually a deserted building in downtown Kitchener, but last night they transformed it into an incredibly cool space. (I am going to see who I need to bribe to get it for my grad concert.) The music was good, the scene was good, I just don’t dance unless I have had a beer or two. And several of my professors were there, talking to people and hanging out, and it was freaking me out.

The best part of it, though, for me, was the Swinging Speakers performance. By Gordon Monahan, with whom I pretty much spent the entire festival. He had a piece played at the Evergreen Club concert, he had an installation piece at Kitchener City Hall, and Swinging Speakers. He showed up at Vexations setup on Friday (which seems like aeons ago), and he came out to ~spin~, the very last concert.  He sat with me at DIVA and we went soundwalking with Murray Schafer on Saturday, and yeah, pretty much every other event. So I had to get a picture! Ta da!

Swinging Speakers is three people (in this case, Edwin Outwater, Andrew Tereszowski, and Jason White) standing on platforms, swinging speakers projecting sound in circles around their heads like lassos.  There were lights attached to the speakers.  The room started out light-ish with three spotlights on the spinners.  Then the spotlights went out, and lamps on the speakers came on.  Then the room lights went out, leaving just the spinning speaker-lights. It was wonderful.

I got a clip or two of the performance.  Here is one of them! Once again: the sound is frighteningly bad so turn down (not off this time, though) your speakers!

Edwin is on the left, Andrew is in the middle, Jason is on the right.

We didn’t end up staying at Blue Dot all that late, and I spent most of my time there looking at art, videotaping people’s feet under a curtain (there was this one guy who was dancing next to the bar wearing these old brown leather shoes and black socks and shorts which was the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time), losing and finding my friends, and studiously avoiding my professors. It was, however, a good time.

Blue Dot was supposed to be the big after party for Open Ears, but I really would’ve liked to spend the events seperately–Blue Dot would’ve been amazingly fun had I had some beer and no professorly types; and I would have very much liked to hang out with the artists and attendees of Open Ears in a quieter location where we could talk.  Still, though! My friend Nick noted that the festival began with 16 hours of straight Satie, and ended with an Arts Rave–which is pretty fantastic for any arts festival to claim.

Sunday was the final day of Open Ears–Jeff told me that it was intended to be the “hangover” after Blue Dot, at that is exactly what it was. I went soundwalking in Victoria Park again with Murray Schafer (and talked to him this time), and while it was not as good of an experience, it was still interesting to hear him talk. I then went to see /~spin~/ at the City Hall Rotunda, which was flute and electronics and surround-sound by Ellen Waterman and James Harley. It was cool, I particularly enjoyed the stuff with birdsong, but it was also very mellow and spacey, so I’m pretty sure I drifted off a little in the sun. Oh well? It was the end of Open Ears, but it wasn’t the Finale. So Peter had it right, it was the Coda.

What a great experience, though! The whole festival was amazing, the shows were great, there was only one performance I went to that I didn’t like especially, and I encountered so many amazing artists! It was the best part of the festival, I think, just spending time with people who *get it*. I loved my volunteer experiences, too, particularly the crewing ones. Jeff and Jason are my new two favourite people after this festival, and I learned a lot about set up and lighting and mics.

I also had fun blogging all of this, although I felt bad about missing performances (even though moving is a pretty legit excuse), and I am really sad I missed the Harbingers of Spring soundwalk. And the symposia! I missed *all of them* and I am mad about it. (Apparently there was some Edwin/Glenn tension and I MISSED IT.) I found out very late about the #openears Twitter extravaganza, but it is pretty great, so you should check it out. There were several other bloggers covering the events, so I feel even less bad about missing things. Read them all for multiple takes on everything!

THE DIRECTORY

Muffyoglb KWS and “In C”,  Not-Vexations and Flying Bulgars, Jesse Stewart/tranSpectra, David Lang/Elevated and E.T.C., Dancetheatre David Earle/Penderecki String Quartet and the Hard Rubber Orchestra, The Books and Blue Dot

TeleViper 4′33, Safa, Harbingers of Spring, Red Chamber, PSQ and Dancetheatre David Earle, Hard Rubber Orchestra, The Books

The Record/Within Earshot Harbingers of Spring (video), Whispering Room, Vexations and “Heima”, Turtle Island String Quartet, KWS with Eve Egoyan, Blue Dot, The Books

The Omniscient Mussel “In C”, KWS, Flying Bulgars, Harbingers of Spring, Dancetheatre David Earle/PSQ, Installations, Blue Dot

Feast of Music Harbingers of Spring Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Dancetheatre David Earle/PSQ, Hard Rubber Orchestra, Eve Egoyan/David Rokeby, Evergreen Club Gamelan, The Books, Blue Dot, Installations, /~spin~/

Obohemia “In C”, KWS, Vexations, Flying Bulgars , David Lang/Elevated and E.T.C., Francisco López, 4′33,
Red Chamber and Hard Rubber Orchestra, Soundwalk, Nagata Shachu, DIVA/Eve Egoyan/David Rokeby, Evergreen Club Gamelan, The Books, Blue Dot

Others Cultureguru: KWS, The Books, Blue Dot, Edwin Outwater: Blue Dot, Hot Pie Records: Blue Dot Pictures, Colin Ellard: Harbingers of Spring (x2), edeva: Installation “Syncopated Percussion”, Rob rinG: David Lang/Elevated, Mike Christie: The Books, Blue Dot, Randall J. Howard: R. Murray Schafer and rare

If anyone can find any more, let me know!

Quick note, everyone–it is now summer, but I am not stopping updates! I will be going to a twice-a-week format, though, so check back every Tuesday and Friday to see the haps!