Category Archives: into the maelstrom

a voice, uncanny instrument

The Quiet Coach on a train is often a site of tension. So when three male off-shore workers, all of them drunk as wasps drowning in a whiskey vat, decided to occupy a table just by the sign that said … Continue reading

Posted in into the maelstrom, live sound, live talk | Leave a comment

stick, spit, reed and tubing

  “Or maybe the music we are hearing tells us about the unconscious, coming from some place of archetypes or from the trauma of unspeakable secrets.” Hyperobjects: Philosophy and Ecology after the End of the World, Timothy Morton.   There … Continue reading

Posted in instrumentality, into the maelstrom | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Skin and Bone Listening

How to be, where to be, in a space, with sound, with other bodies? For me, in relation to what performance is becoming, this has been the biggest question of the past year. What does it mean to hear? What … Continue reading

Posted in into the maelstrom, live sound | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

that lead beneath brambles to the bodies and minds of others

The book jacket is designed by Vanessa Bell, sister to Virginia Woolf. Her drawing for the front of the jacket is of trees and grasses, many black pen lines pulling and curling in vortical movement, little differentiation made between figure … Continue reading

Posted in into the maelstrom, live sound, writing sound | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Automatic writing

Robert Ashley’s death last week gave me the odd feeling that I should have been listening to more of his music. Absurd really, to self-impose a kind of obligation to consume. The truth is I loved his work but never … Continue reading

Posted in into the maelstrom, live talk | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

A falling fourth or fifth

Bitterly cold this morning in Queens Wood but not too cold to hear the woman calling her dogs with a fluting falling call – ooh oooh – that reminded me of the similar calls my mother would sound out over … Continue reading

Posted in instrumentality, into the maelstrom, writing sound | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

The Woman Seen Sweeping the Sea: Annabel Nicolson escaping notice.

If a piano becomes silenced through dereliction, keys detached like so much loose kindling, is it still a piano? I asked that question, silently to myself, watching Annabel Nicolson’s Piano Film (Camden Arts Centre, Film in Space, group show selected … Continue reading

Posted in into the maelstrom, writing sound | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments