“…He was using art as a system of knowledge, not as a decoration or simply earning a living. It was the crucial issue of his life, and it was the matrix around which he considered all of his other theories and personal discussions and problems. For me, the strength of ones work is the extend to which it’s capable of absorbing those things and becoming an oracle for them. The interesting thing about that is that you don’t even have to like the work to respect that function taking place.” - Brian Eno talking about Peter Schmidt, in conversation with Charles Amirkhanian, 1980.
Here follows a description of a selection of some of the methods I have been working with and developing during my research:
- Etudes for timbral changes
The way that I have shaped the different parts of my instrument means that I have a quite broad and varied timbral palette at hand. Dialing in a specific timbre often means adjusting a number of parameters very precisely, and that means that switching from one timbre to another often times means that I’ll have to change several different parameters on both the guitar and on my signal path. These changes of parameters must be performed in a specific order for me to achieve the desired transition between the two textures. In order to be able to perform them consistently, and to have the choice of a drastic timbral change or perhaps a smooth longer transition, I have made up etudes for practicing several of these transitions. Since many of the etudes require interactions between the guitar and the other parts of my instrument, I like to think of the physical movement and gesture as part of the excersice. Practicing these etudes feels a bit like performing traditional scale exercises, repetitions and adjustments along the way pave the road to reach the goal.
- Timbral Map
Early on in my research I got the idea of trying to map all the timbral possibilities on my instrument. The idea was to start with all the different ways I might bring one of the strings on the guitar to vibrate, by using a pick (and all the different nuances as I change the angle of the pick and weight og my hand), my fingers (and the nuances of nails, no nails, pluck, strum etc…), a bow, various objects made of metal, stones, brushes….and the list got long. Next would be my signal chain for processing the sound of the vibrating string, and how all the different modules interact with each other. I pretty soon realized that this task would be so monumental that it would take all my time to pursue it and it would become the project itself. I then decided not to keep going down that road, and instead stuck with keeping a log book where I would write any interesting timbres down that I wasn’t sure I would be able to find again at a later point without notes.
“The electric guitar you heard on the Elvis recording (Heartbreak Hotel), of course is a long way away from an acoustic guitar, it has a very electric sound. And this electronic sound began to be the common sound for the guitar, and gradually it became common for all the other instruments as well, and the term electric guitar meant one of a very large number of possible sounds. So the composer were now working with a very, very extended palette of sounds compared to, say, the classical composer, who if he wrote clarinet in the score he knew that there were a specific and finite number of sounds that could come out from that instruction, and that the timbral differences from one to the next were at least knowable. You don’t have that knowledge with an electric guitar.” - Brian Eno in conversation with Charles Amirkhanian, 1980.
- Tape diary
Early on in the my research I started shaping a new method to generate ideas and work with material, which involves recording on an 8 track cassette tape recorder that feeds into a 16 channel mixer. I like to use recording as a tool for developing ideas. Why choose to work with such an obsolete and somewhat cumbersome technology? My reason for doing so originally came from a wish not to work with a computer when recording. When working with a computer I often find that I’ll begin listening with my eyes when looking at the recorded files appearing on the screen, as well as getting overwhelmed with the infinite possibilities it has to offer. Not to mention the invitations to all kinds of other distractions such as emails, social media, to do lists and other things that are out to steal away my focus. As I began using the tape recorder I immediately started to appreciate the work flow and tempo that it dictates. It’s a slower process than working on a computer, and at the same time the machine requires that I’m attentive constantly. The winding and rewinding, the cleaning of tape heads, the absolute necessity of cataloguing and logging everything I record in order to be able to find it again. To me, all of these things sharpen my awareness and presence when recording, as opposed to the computer. I like that the machine is a physical object with very obvious possibilities and limitations, and I like that it contributes to the sound of the recordings in a certain way. That, along with the tactile experience of operating it, dialing in the faders and eq on the mixer by using my ears to get a sound I like, is the main attraction for me. It basically feels like an instrument that I can learn to play.
Here is one way I have been using the tape recorder to generate and work with ideas, which has ended up becoming a sort of cassette tape diary: My studio, where I work with my music, is a 20 minute walk from my home. I usually walk there along the lakes in Copenhagen, one of the oldest and most distinctive features of the city’s topography. As soon as I’m out the door I start focusing my mind, stepping in to the frame of mind where new ideas often are to be found. Along the way, I keep an eye on and listen to what’s going on among the birds and trees that live by the lakes, and the sounds of the city that surround them. As I arrive at my studio the next part of this little daily ritual is setting up and getting ready to create sound. Open the windows, let some fresh air into the room, pull up the blinds, set up my instrument, connect the cables, switch on the amps, turn on the tape deck and let it warm up for a few minutes, put a fresh cassette into it. I then push the record button and as I start to let the sound evolve out of the silence the was there before, I grab the first idea that comes along and start to improvise with it, explore it and stretch it out until it concludes itself or I run out of tape, which I will after about 10-12 minutes using regular tapes. I then rewind the tape, and while waiting for it to be rewound I’ll try to have no conscious thought, but just stay in the emotional and sonic feeling of what I just recorded. When the tape is ready I’ll then record on another of the 8 tracks, overdubbing the recording I just made. Still improvising, the added layer will begin to enhance pivotal points and an overall structure of the first layer, often in surprising ways. This process of layering can be repeated up until all 8 tracks are used, unless the evolving piece of music is saturated before that. This method is interesting to me in the way that I relate to time, and the unconscious memory of hearing something I just did, which I then experience in a new way as I’m adding something to it, and turning it into something else.
A variation of this method is to put a fresh cassette in the tape deck at the end of the day, just before I’m getting ready to wrap it up and call it a day. I’ll then record a single track of whatever I had been working with that day, rewind the tape, shut the studio down, and continue my day. The next time I’m at the studio, I’ll set everything up and get ready to make sound, and then I’ll push record and react to the track I recorded the day before, without trying to rationally recall what it was I recorded.
I came across a recording of a broadcast radio show from 1972, hosted by Charles Amirkhanian and featuring recordings of La Monte Young’s Theatre of Eternal Music. The recordings featured in the show are from 1964, and Amirkhanian describes Young’s music as:
“Sound to accompany daily living, sound to be perceived as part of the flow of the world. A striking departure from our notion of sound as having beginning, ending, climax and complex intellectual relationships. Young tends toward a visceral music of hearing and feeling, which causes us to listen differently.”
He then goes on to play the piece called “23 august 1964, 2:50:45 - 3:11 a.m.” The reason I mention this is firstly because this description of Young’s music resonates with the space I would like to create for myself to be in and for an audience to experience. Secondly, I label my tape diary in the same way, date/year/time of day, usually with the addition of a few technical notes for myself to be able to find the sound texture at a later date.
- Glass prism visuals
After establishing the tape diary method as described above, I started looking to add a visual extension to it. In my search for new ways of composing with the material I create, I have experimented with different ways of scoring. I had the idea of trying to make a moving visual score to look at while improvising in the manner described above with the tape recordings. The method I ended up developing for creating the visual scores works like this: I use my computer screen as a light source, and find a specific color for the screen. I then put a small digital camera on a tripod and place it so that the computer screen fill out the cameras lens completely. A fairly simple setup. Then comes the part that makes it interesting; I hold with my hands a glass prism and bring it very close to the lens of the camera, which is recording. The patterns created from the light of the computer screen coming through the glass prism will be constantly moving, as the camera is picking up even the smallest movement of the prism, and it is not possible to keep ones hands a hundred percent still. Experimenting with how the movement and changing of the angle of the prism with my fingertips affect the patterns recorded, I can then start improvising and shape the dynamics and tempo of the visual movements. A very tactile experience, that can be observed visually up close.
The way I have combined these videos with the tape recordings is structured like this: I will walk, once again, from my home to my studio. When I have arrived I will set up my video camera and my instrument and I’ll I put a fresh tape in the cassette recorder. Before opening the blinds and windows to let the sun and air into the room. I’ll pick a color for my computer screen, and then make the video holding the prism as described above. I’ll then play the recorded video on the computer screen while recording an improvisation on my instrument as I look at the video. Then, I’ll open the blinds and the windows and decide what’s next. Regarding the choice of colors I use as my light source, I learned that the Pantone Institute have announced a “color of the year” every year since 2000, as a part of a program of what they call trend forecasting. I found this quite peculiar, and decided to use these 21 colors for my videos.
- Echo Dialogue
This idea is centered around playing with an echo unit, which is set to have one repeat of the note I’ll be playing on the guitar, the echo having an equal amplitude as the originally played note. I have the speed of the repeat to be set between 360-420 ms. I have chosen my tonal material to be centered around a major triad with an added sixth. I then use the echo as a quarter note pulse. This is the main frame of the exercise. What I then do is that I accelerate between playing quarter notes, eighth notes, triplets, and so on, making the acceleration between the subdivisions slow but precise. When performed well, the result is a feeling of rubato and pulse at the same time, and the accelerandi create some very interesting rhythmic tension that reminds me very much of what American composer Steve Reich achieve with his phasing pieces, for instance his famous piece Piano Phase. It’s a feeling that is both static and in constant movement. The way my etude differs from Steve Reich’s compositions is that mine is based upon improvising within a pretty strict frame while Steve Reich’s compositions are a literal audible process that happens extremely gradually, and allows for no deviation from the original idea, as he describes it in his 1968 essay “Music as a Gradual Process”.
Another inspiration for this method is the video artwork Boomerang, by Richard Serra and Nancy Holt from 1974. Nancy Holt speaks into a microphone and hears her words coming back to her after they have been delayed electronically. She is sort of trying to engage with her own echo, and the piece has a feeling of being a monologue and a dialogue at the same time.
- Active Listening Practice
"Deep Listening for me is learning to expand the perception of sounds to include the whole space/time continuum of sound – encountering the vastness and complexities as much as possible. Simultaneously one ought to be able to target a sound or sequence of sounds as a focus within the space/time continuum and to perceive the detail or trajectory of the sound or sequence of sounds. Such focus should always return to or be within the whole of the space/time continuum." - Pauline Oliveros
Listening actively has always been a part of my artistic practice and thus also in my research for this project. By listening actively I mean clearing my conscience from thought, and just listen to all the sounds that are within reach of your ear. I practice listening anywhere, while sitting at home, while walking outside, while being in nature, while driving a car. And, of course, while listening to music.
- Composing / Improvising
Improvising and composing are closely connected in my musical realm. It's basically the same thing. When I discover an idea that is interesting to me while improvising, I will write it down or record it in order to be able to get back to it and nurture it at a later point, to develop it further and see what can be done with it in terms of letting it blossom into becoming a structure for a composition. It often happens that this exploration of the idea becomes a seamless transition into composition. Some of the recordings you can listen to here are completely improvised pieces of music, some are compositions, and some still are in transition between the two.
- Lyrics
On a few of the tracks you can hear in this exposition, I'm using my voice and singing lyrics. The function of lyrics for me in these instances, was not to tell a story or to give a message, but to use the words to locate the song in some kind of mental frame. The lyrics don't say something, they do something. That's my intention in using them in relation to this research project.
