june 09, 2004.
Here's a clickable image from the 'boysband op ameland'-videa ... pure sound and image ... I've also added several edited extracts, from the 'direct-to-disk' recordings we made of the placard streams, to the 'ameland iRadio playlist' ...
By the way: I do consider that one of the distinguishing properties of such webstreams is their transitoriness, their volatility. I indeed think they should not be recorded. I mean: not be recorded in order to then be re-played 'as such' ... One should hear them only once ... They are valid and valuable material, though. And it is as such that I have been using them these days.
I do like the idea also of others being able to record such streams, and use the material in their proper projects. Consider them as contributions to sort of an 'open audio pool', free of the usual, so unfortunate but for historical and economical reasons still pretty much unavoidable, ©-pitfalls. For me, for you, for all to draw upon.
After a (very) long period in which I kept an almost eerily low listening profile, a couple of years ago I again began to listen a lot to (let-us-call-it) 'new music'. And I still continue to do so. But where formerly I was very much a listener who listened in order to select and 're-listen', to 'listen again and again', the 'listener reborn' that I became more often than not, listens only once. And with but the occassional exception, his listening is either on the internet or in a concert situation. Hardly any CDs involved, hardly ever through 'classical' radio or televsion. Even though from time to time he does record streams, playlists, files that he listens to. When for some reason or another they seem exceptional. And there's quite a lot that is exceptional in one way or another, he is happy to say. More than there's ever been before. He's pretty sure of that. But it is so seldom that he finds, or better: takes, the time to listen back. For there's always the choice to be made between listening again or tune in to something still unheard to listen to.
Okay. I admit that I'm exaggerating things here. For the sake of argument.
As there is something of a truth in it, at heart. Partly this is due to
the sheer mass of works produced nowadays - which, of course, is not something
that is limited to music, but something that can be witnessed in all fields
of human creation.
Is this 'overproduction' a problem? I hardly think so. Should it be?
However, it can not but dramatically change our ways of consuming, our relation to the 'creations', to the 'works'. We have so far only seen the very beginning of such a change. Sometimes I do like to think that part of what I am witnessing these days in the field of music is the emergence of a global corpus of sound works that are essentially ephemeral. 'To be heard only once'.
But then again: maybe this is rather a projection of the way I listen to
soundworks and music these days, which, as said, is very different,
really, from the way I used to listen, say, twenty/twenty-five years ago.
And also much of the music that I find interesting at the moment, and have been listening to for much of this past year, is of an 'improvisational' kind.
And has not the 'corpus of improvised music' always essentially been something of an 'open audio pool', a 'global corpus' for all (improvising) musicians to learn from and to draw upon? A 'global corpus' of musics that, as many an improvisor will sustain, are 'unrepeatable', and essentially 'unrecordable'. To be heard only once ... ? Pointing onwards, forever onwards ?
[ also read: Derek Bailey - Improvisation: Its Nature and Practice in Music ]
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june 07, 2004.
Went to concerts in the Instants Chavirés last friday and saturday. That had been quite a while, as my last visit to the Instants before these had been on march 17th, when there were two 'almost nothing'-players performing, Taku Sugimoto and Radu Malfatti, who were being so silent that I really felt horribly embarrased the moment my cellphone started vibrrrrrrratingggg in my pocket. The machin's pretty near soundless buzzing seemed só much louder than anything that was coming off the stage ...
Thomas Ankersmit opened friday's concert.
Een Nederlander misschien wel, maar dat hielp niet veel. Het begon zacht, maar het werd toch al snel steeds luider, met een hoop noise uit een Tibook. Soms weer even zacht. Op en neer, hè? Gepiep, geruis en geknetter dat door de Ankersmit, een beetje voorovergebogen over een tafeltje staand en ingespannen op het scherm turend, met gefronste wenkbrauwen die een gelaatsexpressie van het leek soms wel opperste verbazing over het geziene overlijnden, middels het trackpad van ergens uit het diepe opgewreven werd. Hij vergrootte daarbij af en toe de opklaphoek van het scherm, met de nonchalante duw van een hand. Voor nóg meer zicht. En maar turen. Climax van T's solo (niet dat er sprake was van een opbouw; het was eerder op het einde iets van een 'oh ja, en nou nog even dit ...') was een reeks vette scheten onder verschillende hoeken richting een microfoon gelaten, die vervolgens middels een of ander delay'n'repeat programmaatje door de laptop ..., nou ja ... herhaald werden. En er wisselde wel eens wat van kanaal of zo, ook.
'Frippereno!' riep iemand kort na afloop van de performance met een brede grijns aan de bar tegen twee kompanen. Hij spreidde daarbij de armen, als ware het een openbaring, een plots en hemels inzicht. 'Robert Fripp and Brian Eno!' vervolgde hij nog. Voor de duidelijkheid. Nee, pas op hoor! Bezoekers van de Instants kennen hun klassiekers. (Eerder al hoorde ik een ander tweetal, ontspannen aan de bar geleund en nippend van een biertje mekaar onderhouden over de ware intenties van Arnold Schönberg.) En één van de wat oudere stamgasten, die ik bij binnenkomst altijd vriendelijk groet en dan de hand schud, maar wiens naam en hoedanigheid mij nog altijd niet duidelijk of misschien al weer ontschoten zijn, galmde even later hoofdschuddend in het oor van zijn buurman: "Mais c'est du n'importe quoi, vraiment du n'importe quoi ! ... Et, t'as lu ? Ce mec, il joue avec xxx et yyy ... du n'importe quoi ... ce machin là sur ce portable ... "
Ha, er kwam wat los, en ik zou het haast achteraf dáárom alsnog 'goed!' gaan vinden :) . Maar nee, ik heb me ook zitten ergeren, beken ik maar. Ja, als het nou nog échte scheten geweest waren, van gassen onttrokken aan darmeigen fermentatie na het eerder en niet te vroeg, niet te laat, nuttigen van een volvet overwogen maaltijd, met een berg doorgekookte spruiten, kleffe bonen, kledders jus en braadworst bijvoorbeeld, voor voldoende volume en de benodigde blaaskracht... en dan met de broek tot halverwege de bleke dijen afgestroopt op het schemerige toneeltje kunstig manoevrerend om de juiste hoek en ingang tot de peperdure microfoon te vinden, gestoken in de net zo prijzige laptop ... dan had het misschien nog een statement kunnen heten.
Toch jammer, neen. Het was een duur glimmende saxofoon waarmee Thomas scheette en hij trok er een duur gezicht bij, dat - jongen, nou, jongen! - zaalbreed van ernst en van 'kunst hier!' spiegelde.
Dat was nog het ergste.
[ A Dutchman perhaps well, but that helped not many. It began soft, but became already fast always loudlyer, with a hope noise from a Tibook. Sometimes again just soft. On and down, hè? Squeaking, rustling and geknetter that through the Ankersmit, a little bit voorovergebogen over a table standing and exerted on the schermp peering, with a frown that a faces expression of the layman sometimes well uppermost amazement over the seen overlijnden, somewhere from the depth of a trackpad opgewreven became. He increased near it finished and closed the opklaphoek of the screen, with the nonchalant push of a hand. For nóg more view. And but peer. Climax of T solo performance (not that it talk was of a structure; it was earlier on the end something of an 'oh yes, and now yet just this ...') pale finally a series fat farts under different corner direction a microphone let, that then means SOME delay or OTHER' n' repeat program measure by the laptop..., now yes... repeated became. And there once in a while what of channel changed or so, also.
'Frippereno!' mentioned someone shorten after result of the performance with a broad sneer at the inclement against two kompanen. He spread near it the arms, if one were revelation, a sudden and heavenly understanding. 'Robert Fripp and Brian Eno!' continued he yet. For the clarity. No, just on hear! Visitors of the Instants know their klassiekers. (Before already I wanted to relax leant someone else pair, at the bar and maintain sipping of a beer each other over the were Intentions of Arnold Schönberg.) And één of the what older stem guests, that I by arrival always kind greeting and then the hand shake, but, whose name and quality me yet always not clear or perhaps already again slipped are, resounded even later on shaking one's head in the ear of its neighbor: "Mais c' est du n' importe quoi, vraiment du n' importe quoi ! .. Et, t' as lu? Ce mec, il you avec xxx eats yyy... du n' importe quoi ... Ce machin là sur ce portable.. "
Ah, there came what loose, and I will the haste in the rear dáárom still 'good!' will find:). Only no, I have me also be irritating, beaks I. Yes, if it were shitted been now yet échte, of gases withdrawn at darmeigen fermentatie after the earlier and on time do not consume - too early, not too late - of a considered and volvette have dinner, with doorgekookte sprout, kleffe coupons, kledders gravy and braadworst for instance, before sufficient volume and the required bladder power.. And then with the pant till halfway the pale thighs on the dim theatre ingenious manoevrerend stripped off the right corner and entrance till the pepper duration microphone to find, stuck in the neat so prijzige laptop.. Then the perhaps yet a statement wanted to can is named.
But misery, no. It was an expensive shining saxofoon with which Thomas scheette and he pulled with it a face by, that - boy, now, boy! - Zaalbreed of seriousness and of art here!' reflected.
That was yet the most awful. ]
[ One Dutchman possibly well-being , solely who heel not very many. The begonia soft , solely went yet swift townish run , with one pile noise out of one Tibook. Sometimes weather momentarily soft. Worn and down hè? Squeaking , noise and rattle who through the Capstan , some voorovergebogen via one small table upright and strenuous worn the wing stare , with gefronste eyebrow who one gelaatsexpressie with the outsider sometimes well-being uppermost surprise via the seen overlijnden , somewhere out of the depth with one tracker ball opgewreven went. He magnifying glass near it off and on the opklaphoek with the wing , with the remiss thrust with one handshake. Until nóg more visibility. And solely stare. Climax with T's solo performance ( not who yonder talk wax with one opbouw; the wax sooner worn the end somewhat with one 'oh yes , and rather yet momentarily this. ') pale ultimate one heat vette sketch whilst various hook trend one microphone resigned , who thereupon medium quality someone delay'n'repeat programmaatje through the laptop computer., rather yes. herhaald went. And yonder switch ever what with strait whether thus , too.
'Frippereno! riep someone short afterwards the performance with one wide sneer the strict versus two compass. He unpack near it the paupers , when ware the one revelation , one suddenly and heavenly opinion. 'Robert Fripp and Brian Eno! ' sequel he yet. Until the clearness. Not , take care hoor! Visitors with the Resort know they classics. ( sooner yet listener I one other two , unbend the strict rot and nipple with one barrel mekaar support via the ware intenties with Arnold Schönberg. ) And één with the what senior ranking habitue , who I towards entry ever pretty salute and then the handshake shuffle , solely wiens reputation and hoedanigheid my still not understandable whether possibly yet weather ontschoten one's , reverberation momentarily later on shake the head within the handle with one's neighbour : " Mais c'est du n'importe quoi vraiment du n'importe quoi ! Et t'as lu? Ce mec il joue avec xxx et yyy. du n'importe quoi. ce machin sur ce portable."
Aha , yonder came what mobile , and I would be the soon subsequently pile up to now 'goed! ' travel think :). Solely not , I have my too sit vex , well-known I. Yes , when the rather yet échte sketch been were , with gas tube onttrokken upon darmeigen fermentation near the sooner and tense useful not within soon , not within tardy with one overwogen and full cream meal , with doorgekookte sprout , sodden bonen kledders sauce and braadworst for instance , until enough bulk and the necessary blaaskracht. And then with the trousers until halfway the bleach swell afgestroopt worn the dim theatre ingenious manoevrerend to the correct hook and portal until the most expensive microphone within think , romping within the rope thus pricey laptop computer. Then was wrong possibly yet one statement may call.
Solely unfortunately , not. The wax one expensive shiny saxophone with which Thomas slanting and he trok yonder one vision towards , who puppies , rather , puppies! zaalbreed with seriousness and with 'kunst hither! ' stern.
Who wax yet the worst. ]
Did any of you non-Dutch readers get an idea of what I've been ranting
about in the dutch section, by 'reading' the 'free
online translations' above? I wonder ... the second
being extravagantly ridiculous; the first only slightly
less stupide ... These 'non-tools' really can make neither head nor
tail out of something of a certain 'complexity', something other than mere
shoppinglist style. Well, all I can hope for is that they managed
to make you curious ... it is a pretty good rant, actually. So better
learn some Dutch ;-)
I actually began writing that part in my other (strictly private) blog (one would call that a 'diary', I guess :-) , and only midway decided that it belonged in the SoundBlog. I didn't feel like ' translating' it, nor like writing it again in English. So there you go. When Ankersmit actually is Dutch he'll understand it. Next time he googles his name, say :) ... Maybe I'll do some more Dutch SB-writing in the future. I will spare you more 'soft translations', though. That I promise ... (until further notice that is, of course).
Second (top?) on friday's bill was a strictly Swiss trio : Tomas Korber, Norbert Möslang and Günter Müller. Their set-up looked interesting enough: guitar and electronics, 'cracked everyday electronics', table percussions ... They even got off to a promising start. And I really wanted to like them ... that I always want. But then they settled down in this routine, boy, sooo tedious ... with the obligatory sonic 'surprises', the slow and silent parts, then again the 'rough and rocking' ones ... so ... predictable. Such a limited 'spectrum', also. Not because of their 'instruments', really. But because of the way they were using them, of course. And then they dragged on and on and on... The good, better, best improvisations (I'm assuming they were 'improvising', mind you ... if they weren't, more shame on them ;-) have this near-living organism quality: the 'thing' is alive, and breathing; moving, struggling, then coming to an end that is clear and pretty much unavoidable. Friday's swiss 'thing' could have stopped just anywhere. It wouldn't have made any difference.
When they finally did come to a grinding halt, it was too late already. I felt exhausted and left. Thus missed the 'third and final set', in which Thomas Ankersmit was supposed to join les 3 suisses.
I really do hope i missed something there ...
Ah, but then there's always the day after! And it hardly could get any worse, now could it?
Saturday's starters was up to belgian Peter Jacquemin, on double bass. And yes! I say: Yes! But then of course I could write a book on playing the double bass. (Hold on! Actually I am writing a book on playing the double bass, but that is a different story - some other time :-) And I'm seriously shopping around for one myself ... (but that also is a different story - or the same one, if you like ;-)
Anyway. Peter Jacquemin has what it takes. A great double bass for one. A great technique. And a great physique. Doubly built like a bass himself, the man. A perfect ensemble, the two of them. Made for one another, just take my word for it. Or go and see for yourself.
At times this was a breath-taking show of sheer musical mechanics and delicious sonic inventiveness. Not alltogether flawless, though. Peter was most convincing in the classical 'man, hands, bow and bass' parts. I was rather less impressed by his 'two bows' strumming, and the 'cramming cans between the strings' routine, where somehow - and in my view unfortunately - he just once too often appeared to temporarily loose 'control' ...
Second and last on saturday were three australians: Clayton Thomas on double bass, Jim Denley on wind instruments and Will Guthrie on table percussion. They played two fine sets, the first one of which though, to my taste at times did lack a certain tension. The three are touring this week (Holland, Germany, Belgium, north of France), playing every day.
I'm sure they'll be growing! A lot ...
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