Waiting at a stoplight on the way back to my house, my ear became transfixed on the sound of a flock of parrots. Yes, that's right, parrots. It turns out that someone in my neighborhood trains parrots and every so often, if you get the timing right, you'll find yourself mesmerized by the bird song. Oblivious to this at the time, my mind filled with wonderment at the sound. It was uncharacteristic of the soundscape I've grown accustomed to in the past six years of residing in my town, yet, it was not threatening or overwhelming. I can attribute this to the fact that I was aware that the sound was coming from birds since it was familiar. However, I was perplexed by my dire impulse to see the sound's source. I immediately began to search for the source of the sound. Being that the parrot's color camouflaged perfectly with the green leaves of the trees lining the street, I was unable to access the origins of my curiosity. To my surprise, I was ailed by my failure to identify what was responsible for the sound. Ironically, the sound was beautiful, yet, my mind was consumed by the overwhelming urge to see the sound to the extent that the my sight took precedence over my hearing.
Of course, I could relate this to the hierarchy of the senses in Western culture, but I couldn't help but wonder, why did I have feelings of uneasiness even when the sound was pleasing to my ear and I knew it was coming from parrots?
This made me think about the realm of the record. Since recordings offer us a work of art and a history, maybe we have become nostalgic for something natural, something that brings us back to life. The only way to know a sound is authentic in the realm of the record, is to see the source. The source is proof of something real, unplanned and unintended for recording.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
The XX
Sexy time music, baby making music... everyone has their name for it, but what is it about this type of music that makes us associate it with the act of sex? Why is it that when we hear it we immediately imagine it as background to our bedroom escapades?
I didn't wonder about this until I happened to read Sound and Thought the same week I was introduced to The XX. One of the most notable things about this band is that the vocals take precedence over the instruments. Yet, the vocals are soft, often fading in an out unexpectedly.
This reminded me of a quote from Sound and Thought when Barenboim said, "Sound is a physical reality. Sound does not remain in this world; it evaporates into silence." Barenboim used this idea to support why we strove to create sound by saying it was a kind of defiance. However, in the case of sensual music, I propose that unexpected fading that The XX has mastered could also be interpreted as reassurance.
For the purposes of clarity I wouldn't necessarily relate this type of music to the sole physical act of sex, but rather I would associate it with steady sex or sex in a relationship. My reason for this is because the music is emotional in that there is an aspect of closeness established by the vocals. There is a sense of trust that is built into the overall sound of the song just like the act of sex. It is sensitive to the slightest disruption, but those disruptions are also exhilarating at the same time because you know you will be brought back to safety and comfort.
I didn't wonder about this until I happened to read Sound and Thought the same week I was introduced to The XX. One of the most notable things about this band is that the vocals take precedence over the instruments. Yet, the vocals are soft, often fading in an out unexpectedly.
This reminded me of a quote from Sound and Thought when Barenboim said, "Sound is a physical reality. Sound does not remain in this world; it evaporates into silence." Barenboim used this idea to support why we strove to create sound by saying it was a kind of defiance. However, in the case of sensual music, I propose that unexpected fading that The XX has mastered could also be interpreted as reassurance.
For the purposes of clarity I wouldn't necessarily relate this type of music to the sole physical act of sex, but rather I would associate it with steady sex or sex in a relationship. My reason for this is because the music is emotional in that there is an aspect of closeness established by the vocals. There is a sense of trust that is built into the overall sound of the song just like the act of sex. It is sensitive to the slightest disruption, but those disruptions are also exhilarating at the same time because you know you will be brought back to safety and comfort.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Amplifying Humanity
There are two scenes from the first Invisible Children documentary, one at the introduction and one at the closing, where the displaced children of Uganda are filmed dancing and singing. The dancing in the first scene is spurred by Nelly's "Ride Wit Me" while the second display is brought about through the ritual of prayer and song; both are equally resilient, but, distinct in their own rights.
Yet, there is one factor of this film that ignores the power of the two acts. The recurring theme of sight, or rather "being seen," "being made visible" has dominated this documentary. However, it would be negligent to not acknowledge what the voice and sound of this documentary did in terms of generating success.
We've all seen the countless infomercials coming out of war-torn, impoverished towns. Yet, none have managed to attain the success that is Invisible Children.
The single act of giving voice made the difference. It revealed a humanity that could not be ignored. Through the voice of the children of Uganda, a story we have known about for years was transformed into a plea for justice. With this voice, we we able to detect resilience, fear, hope, suffering and desperation (qualities that resonate with all of us).
Yet, there is one factor of this film that ignores the power of the two acts. The recurring theme of sight, or rather "being seen," "being made visible" has dominated this documentary. However, it would be negligent to not acknowledge what the voice and sound of this documentary did in terms of generating success.
We've all seen the countless infomercials coming out of war-torn, impoverished towns. Yet, none have managed to attain the success that is Invisible Children.
The single act of giving voice made the difference. It revealed a humanity that could not be ignored. Through the voice of the children of Uganda, a story we have known about for years was transformed into a plea for justice. With this voice, we we able to detect resilience, fear, hope, suffering and desperation (qualities that resonate with all of us).
Friday, October 9, 2009
This is what the world is for, making electricity
It wasn't too long ago that people from Manhattan began transforming abandoned industrial buildings into studios and venues in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Just as the Williamsburg Bridge spawned a migration from the lower east Manhattan slums back in early 1900s, the lower rents and abundance of space left by the deserted industrial factories provided sound artists and musicians with allure and somewhat of a blank slate to create new possibilities of space and time.
Today, the Williamsburg scene is thriving and has become know for its worldbeat. I assume this has happened because the music is impossible to classify in terms of genre. Regardless of what the music is or is not, it is achieving something that most have not seen since the early days of rap. It is not meant for anyone. It is done to preserve the essence of music. The melodies, tones, notes, etc. that the musicians construct urge us to think in hopes that we can alter our realities for the better.
Today, the Williamsburg scene is thriving and has become know for its worldbeat. I assume this has happened because the music is impossible to classify in terms of genre. Regardless of what the music is or is not, it is achieving something that most have not seen since the early days of rap. It is not meant for anyone. It is done to preserve the essence of music. The melodies, tones, notes, etc. that the musicians construct urge us to think in hopes that we can alter our realities for the better.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Silence Sounds
I have found that I use silence as both armor and weapon. I use it in a strategic way. It is almost programmed in me seeing as how it goes unnoticed, slipping into my subconscious until I have a moment of introspection. However, it is my dominant mode of communication.
Silence As Weapon:
Silence spawns discomfort and sometimes insecurity. I'm not sure how or when I keyed in on this facet of silence, but I have been exercising it for all it's worth ever since I can remember. I typically use silence as a weapon to express disappointment, displeasure or disharmony with my surroundings. I noticed that this came forth full fledged while working as a cocktail server. Now, let it be known, I have no qualms with drinking. I am no saint (nor do I imagine myself as such), but there is something very disheartening about seeing the same crowd of people drink and dance to pop music on a tri-weekly basis. I doubt I'll ever be able to walk into a club because of this. It is very much ritual for most twenty-somethings. The ritual plays out the same way every time... drinking, dancing, drinking, slurring of words, inability to engage in rational thinking, dancing, finding someone to make out with, making out, drinking, leaving with that person... I can only assume what unfolds after the departure, but I don't understand why people insist on participating week after week when there are so many more productive things to do with your time.
Needless to say, I experienced both disappointment and disharmony at my job. This resulted in me only communicating with customers when necessary. Why?
People want to be heard. At the same time, people use sounds as signals for ways to act and perform. My refusal to offer them either of these things, is my own does of ammunition.
We all know this because we all want to be heard as well. It's something that is very much a part of us from the moment we are born. And while it does impact tip earnings, it is more important for me to also be heard and understood in my silence.
Silence As Armor:
I don't like being comforted. It makes me uncomfortable. As of yet, I don't really understand this part of myself, but luckily it is slowly, but surely beginning to change. I preferred being alone when I was younger and sometimes I still have my moments. Perhaps I have some sort of fear that people might find out too much about me otherwise. At present time, my silence is restricted to moments of sadness and vulnerability. With that said, it comes to no surprise that I push myself away from people when I experience either of these emotions. Ironically, this silence usually comes forth when I don't want people to know what I'm feeling, yet, my silence is transparent, indicating everything I never wanted people to know.
Silence As Weapon:
Silence spawns discomfort and sometimes insecurity. I'm not sure how or when I keyed in on this facet of silence, but I have been exercising it for all it's worth ever since I can remember. I typically use silence as a weapon to express disappointment, displeasure or disharmony with my surroundings. I noticed that this came forth full fledged while working as a cocktail server. Now, let it be known, I have no qualms with drinking. I am no saint (nor do I imagine myself as such), but there is something very disheartening about seeing the same crowd of people drink and dance to pop music on a tri-weekly basis. I doubt I'll ever be able to walk into a club because of this. It is very much ritual for most twenty-somethings. The ritual plays out the same way every time... drinking, dancing, drinking, slurring of words, inability to engage in rational thinking, dancing, finding someone to make out with, making out, drinking, leaving with that person... I can only assume what unfolds after the departure, but I don't understand why people insist on participating week after week when there are so many more productive things to do with your time.
Needless to say, I experienced both disappointment and disharmony at my job. This resulted in me only communicating with customers when necessary. Why?
People want to be heard. At the same time, people use sounds as signals for ways to act and perform. My refusal to offer them either of these things, is my own does of ammunition.
We all know this because we all want to be heard as well. It's something that is very much a part of us from the moment we are born. And while it does impact tip earnings, it is more important for me to also be heard and understood in my silence.
Silence As Armor:
I don't like being comforted. It makes me uncomfortable. As of yet, I don't really understand this part of myself, but luckily it is slowly, but surely beginning to change. I preferred being alone when I was younger and sometimes I still have my moments. Perhaps I have some sort of fear that people might find out too much about me otherwise. At present time, my silence is restricted to moments of sadness and vulnerability. With that said, it comes to no surprise that I push myself away from people when I experience either of these emotions. Ironically, this silence usually comes forth when I don't want people to know what I'm feeling, yet, my silence is transparent, indicating everything I never wanted people to know.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
