Tuesday, May 31, 2011
writing down music
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Operadagen Rotterdam afterthoughts
I was a bit out of it. Too much stuff sometimes to be the organiser/leader/player. I handed over a bit of this to Jean-Yves. He decided on the structure of the night. That felt good. And since he's a longtime companion in music I know his insticts are really good and I can always relate to them so a good co-leader or joint leader thing. Well, actually we are all joint leaders in this ensemble by moments and that's what so great about it!
One thing I've learned yesterday night:
The things I do lately are about changing the attention of the performers and the public to get to new areas of meeting. Create fresh meeting places. Not necessarily new ones but fresh ones.
This is a meticulous work that needs precision and attention. Not a thing to be squeezed into a program with other artists and with a very strong energy of the venue and it's people. Not to say that de Player isn't a great venue and the other performers were not really good or interesting or something. On the contrary actually!
But this type of work needs a clarity and precision in the proposition, the place, the scenography, how to get the public into it, how to invite them etc, that to mix this up with too much other stuff makes that really hard to do.
Our residency at Zuidpool was the thing! I hope we can do more of those!
I'm dreaming of a new work period there. Another week or 10 day period!
Like circus that hits town and let the mouth to mouth promo (does one say that in englieeeesh?) do it's natural work.
Other places with good energy that want to host us for such a trip please apply by using the official application form which you can download somewhere haha. So that a serious advisory committee can and will do it's serious job. Ok. Sorry...haha...
Right. So now the "nazorg". The taking care of the material. Archive. Write. Make a good website thingie. Talk to Elke and Geerdt. Make a movie to propose the work and get it out there.
So more news here sooner rather than later...
Thursday, May 26, 2011
more on the brain and music
Monday, May 23, 2011
A remark on the art of categorizations.
Now, if we look at the concrete results of this knowledge production processes, or take a closer look at the processes of categorizing themselves, this uncompromising view on the arts has to be understood with a little leniency. Artistic practices and their need for copying scientific strategies and vocabulary (the artistic laboratories, the information 'mappings', words like 'virus', 'contamination', 'rhizome', etc…) in one and the same gesture seem to propose an order of things, and create the acute experience of the impossibility of this categories to contain the information that they are supposed to comprise. Very often the categorizations in the arts rather reveals their own limitations: the absurd gesture of getting a grip on what is utterly quixotic and impossible to communicate in a thoroughly transparent way.
In that sense, it seems more appropriate to talk about the processing of knowledge than about the production thereof: as the surrealists showed us, art is rather a game of mislaying informations than one that makes sense of their belonging. Art does not in the first instance produce knowledge so much as an experience that we try to turn into knowledge through interpretation. What the arts keep on opening up are cracks in our systems of understanding, of placing our experiences in a pre-defined context wherein they can be understood according to the conventions of interpretation. What the arts insist upon in their recuperation of scientific systems is the absurdity of our endless attempts to create difference, to translate the mystery of things into analyzable data, to render the world-we-live-in into a comprehensible grid of information. The experience of things is not so much about 'what they mean' or 'how we can use them', but rather about 'what they do', and how they change my relations: to myself, but also to the other, and to the environment; en ecology of things that keeps on surprising me in its sheer complexity of potential associations.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
A possible introduction
into the heart of lightness
Image a biologist entering a virgin rain forest where nobody has ever been. She knows something about plants and animals, from where she comes from. She knows about the behaviour of animals small and large, from the textbooks. Maybe she has instruments with her, DNA-sample kits or binoculars, electron microscopes or scanners. Maybe she just relies on her eyes and ears to explore the forest's ecology.
She bumps into a bewildering array of unknown organisms and their interactions, in which it is hard to see the forest from the trees. Where does she start? She will probably start by observing and collecting, trying to find and recognise recurring patterns in the complexity. Similarly looking plants or animals will be sorted into groups, which she calls 'families', and very close relatives within these families will be sorted into 'species'.
But every organism, so similar to the other members of its species, has its own personal characteristics. Every individual is unique. Still, each and every individual cannot survive without the entire ecosystem around it. Where does one individual end, and where does the next one begin? She realises she can start with any individual and working up towards the whole. Or vice versa.
In bacteriology, she already knows that genetic material is being swapped continuously between individuals, without them mating and procreating. The world of bacteria could be seen as one big gene-sharing pool of microscopic life. If they could sing, there hymn would be "we are the world".
And even in our own human genome, we find traces of old bacterial and viral genomes. The relationship between all living things is much greater than you would think when you look just at their outsides.
But undeterred by the immensity of her endeavour, she hacks her way into the unknown territory of the forest, gradually discovering more and more aspects of the reality she lays bare. Her knowledge grows.
And behind her back the jungle closes again. Whichever direction she looks in, so much happens behind her. Too much for one person to grasp. But she knows she is not alone. We are all together in this multiplexed world. Together we can make an effort to get our co-operating brains around it. At least, that's what humankind has been trying for the last tenthousand years. There is too much world and too little time for one person to understand. That's the power of human culture that we can build on to the work of others and hand on to the next generation. Nothing ever happens in isolation. Especially not the growth of knowledge.
In Conrad's story a human reaches into the heart of darkness in the deep primeval jungle of the Congo, or into his own mind.
I would like to turn the metaphor inside out. By exploring the unknown, by stepwise learning from mistakes and misclassifications, by trial and error, by playful experimenting and critically evaluating, we slowly progress towards the heart of lightness. The light of clarification. The hovering feeling of understanding. Our minds are catalogue-making instruments that help us to shed light on the world and on ourselves. On our thoughts and on our music.