SOUNDBLOG

à la tranquilité

november 06, 2004.

The findings. That's one thing not likely ever to stop. For it doesn't take much. Just open your eyes. And look down.
Like this summer, when I found a bloc-note next to a trash can on the place Voltaire, the first pages of which were filled with which appears to be notes from a teenage girl's diary (probably from 2002, as august 21st was a tuesday in 2002):

fêter Halloween
faire un bilan de la semaine, par exemple avant le cour de théatre
former toujours le gang P.R.P même si l'on découvre d'autres fille
se prêter des bouquins toutes les deux semaines
se défendre contre les autres (enfin les copines)
retennir un journal
s'entraider pour les mecs
aller à Disneyland
aller par exemple tous les samedis à la piscine avec Roxane (et Pauline)
essayer de faire un stage ensemble
se prêter aussi des CD.

diary page

Les choses bien qui me soient arrivées ici

le 21 Aout (mardi)
le gars du tir à l'arc m'a sourit et m'a dit bonjour
les fille de l'accueil ont été vachement gentilles avec moi
le gras brun (le vieux) que je trouvai mignon m'a fait un clin d'oeil et m'a sourit
le gars blond (le jeu m'a souvent regardé (je crois)
le 24 aôut (Samedi)
des gens italiens ont discuté avec nous aux glaces
la dame des glaces a été vachement sympa avec moi
Les deux gars dans le bus
Le gars aux toilettes
le 25 aout
un nouveau gars est arrivé
il est italien

le 26 Août
J'ai un super ensemble
on a mangé dans un restaurant délicieux
le beau brun m'a regardé.

And like last saturday in metro line 9, on my way back from a Francisco Lopez concert at the Ecole Nationale de Musique et de Danse in Montreuil (part of the Instants Chavirés's 'Lieux Communs' events), where my eye fell on a piece of paper on the floor under one of the seats, torn from an RATP billboard, on which someone had written in ballpoint:

a la tranquilite


I'm not alone, of course, in finding these and similar bits and pieces of 'trash poetics' irresistible. Largely - that's where the poetics resides - because they come to you so naked, so absolutely free from whatever their original context might have been, and thus wide open to any interpretation whatsoever. In the words of Lynda Barry, cartoonist and life long collector of found stuff:

"[If I find a piece of writing, and I know who it belongs to, t]o me that doesn't count as found at all because you know who did it so the story that normally comes from a found thing, the wondering which in some weird way is a kind of wondering about ourselves, I don't think that would be there if I knew who wrote it. It would be something , but it would be something else ..."

The quote is from an interview with Lynda that is part of a recent book, entitled Found and subtitled "The best lost, tossed, and forgotten items from around the world", edited by Davy Rothbard, creator of the American Found Magazine. Rothbard and his associates over the years have become 'professional trash poetics collectors', continuously asking and receiving contributions of found things (with a special interest for photographs and writing) from all over the world (though the bulk of it appears to be American). They all but manage to turn 'finding writings and pictures' into something like 'the next big thing' ... :-) "Found" tours the United States, publicly presenting the 'finds', and asking the public to bring and contribute their own 'trash treasures' along, or send them in by mail later. They exhibit a selection from these contributions on their web site, and in the editions of their printed Found Magazine.

I have not yet been able to get hold of copies of Found magazine here in Europe. But I did buy the book online.

The book is an interesting read and definitely worthwhile to have around. But I do think there is something even more special about the things you find yourself. In a way the fact that it is me that is finding something, makes 'the sudden coming into existence' of the 'found object' feel almost like a 'creative' act. So I'm afraid I will not contribute to Found Magazine. I will hold on to all of 'my treasures' myself. And I actually think that so should you. Let's just all make our own 'book of finds', hein? :-)

There is, surprisingly, no video or film footage to be found on the Found web site; and only very little audio. Which reminds me to tell you that recently I added two new montages to my Found Tapes Exhibition. They cover finds nr. 83 - 92. Apart from the 'usual' fragments of pop and arabic music, the new montages (#18 and #17 in the series) include part of a Dutch language lessons tape, fragments of what I think is an Arabic radio play, and a recording of an Afro-Belgian preacher preaching, on business, money and economy ... ("Il faut de la créativité ... Chez nous les femmes travaillent beaucoup!" he tells his community. "Nous voulons voir des mamans belges dans votre église! ... Ils gèrent des millions!").

The bulk of the musical and other cassette findings in the exhibition still awaits 'identification'. (Thanks a lot to the anonymous 'Chelsea', who send me a series of emails in august in which he/she identified several of the pop music fragments for me.) If you listen, and hear something familiar: don't hesitate to let me know!

[ Next related entry: "Parfois l'amour tourne à l'obsession ... "; earlier related entries: phound stufphs :: instructions in arabic ]

tags: found footage, found tapes, Paris

# .126.

smub.it | del.icio.us | Digg it! | reddit | StumbleUpon

comments for « à la tranquilité » ::

Comments are disabled



...

november 03, 2004.

Do take a moment to reflect upon the cruel slaying of Dutch filmmaker and journalist Theo van Gogh, who died after being shot and stabbed several times, early yesterday morning in the streets of Amsterdam.

tags: Theo van Gogh, Amsterdam, the Netherlands

# .125.

smub.it | del.icio.us | Digg it! | reddit | StumbleUpon

comments for « ... » ::

Comments are disabled



sergeant pepper taught the band to play

october 31, 2004.

That, of course was twenty years ago. On the other hand, it was thirty years ago, that in Maastricht, one of the bigger cities in the deep southern parts of the Netherlands, amidst the turmoil of teeny age and all that it comprises, I found myself diving head-first into 'progressive rock music', playing a 'mean' e(c)lect(r)ic guitar in "Quirass", my first-ever 'band' and first-ever musical project.

One of the fun ideas behind Splogman's 52Weeks project ("to boldly go where no music teacher has been before") was to let some of the curators sketch a portrait of themselves as 'young musician', through a series of surviving early private recordings.

Quirass
Quirass

And so this is what I did in my contribution to the project, by dusting of, and selecting from my archive of 30 years old "Quirass Tapes". The liner notes to this 45th Splogweek provide an in-depth account of the 'Rise and Fall' of this mid-seventies adolescent DIY-rock ensemble, together with a selection of some 50+ minutes of mono recordings, mainly from 1974. It's a pretty personal sort of document, obviously. An ego-document. But you might enjoy it. And of course some might even recognize something of themselves there :-) ... I will host this 45th week permanently, as a 'SoundBlog Special', say.

While you're at it, be sure to check out some of the earlier weeks as well. Purple Brain, for instance, which is the subject of Week 43, curated by Remco Takken, with a large and fun collection of (amongst other things) Zappa tunes, played by yet another Dutch 'teenage band'. Highly curious, and probably a precious item for many a collector, is the series of only known "pre-Zappa" recordings of Wild Man Fischer, which are available as part of the 44th Splogweek, curated by Blair Sterret.

tags: Quirass, Maastricht

# .124.

smub.it | del.icio.us | Digg it! | reddit | StumbleUpon

comments for « sergeant pepper taught the band to play » ::

Comments are disabled

« | »