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.
Friday, October 9, 2009
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.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
All The Worlds A Stage
My intent was to originally compare Williamsburg's preservation of authenticity in the music scene to the pop scene's embracing of the inauthentic (theatrics, fantasy, costumes, stage names, etc.), but alas, all the worlds a stage.
For years, people have tried to separate the music world by genre. And while it is true that music differs in sound, it would be negligent to not note music's intrinsic similarities. However, the similarity has been obscured by pride. The categorization of music spawned the act of devaluing and valuing genres based on taste. While pop culture is regarded as lacking taste and originality, underground music fads are labeled as "real" music. Nevertheless, if this were the case, we would be ignoring the basis for music. Sound, or in this instance, music is a means of survival. It is a way for us to distinguish ourselves in a world that is regarded as a unsatisfying, oppressed, separated, hateful and mundane. With that said, it's no surprise that music created stories for us; Little havens providing an escape from reality. It made possible or at least, imaginable, worlds not accessible in the everyday world.
Willamsburg’s use of a mix of tribal sounds to formulate what is acknowledged as a worldbeat is the same as pop music’s reapproriation of the characters of pop music’s past to create an identity. They are both taking the sounds or characters of the past, to foster something new and original. This is most prominent in Brooklyn’s most successful musical talents. In MGMT’s videos, the sounds of Williamsburg are embodied for the world’s eye. Immediately, we see that it is meant to evoke a trance-like state, taking us beyond the bounds of an all-too-mundane reality.
What the Williamsburg scene gives us through sound, the pop scene gives us through visuals. Under the mask or the alter-ego, we make the impossible possible. One of the most fascinating things about the most successful and memorable pop artists is even though they were typically the most heavily decorated, they were also the blankest slates. They are filled with mystery, ambiguity and androgyny. We are seeing this play out in acts such as Lady Gaga and Janelle Monae. In this sense, we can live our lives through them since they can be anybody. They are beyond the bounds of reality and the body.
But what is it about this contrived world that seems so real to us?
I think this fascination is fueled by the façade of self-importance and a state of frustration that is leading to protest.
On the one hand, music is allowing us to be larger than life. Technology gave us the façade of self-importance. We have everything we could dream of at our fingertips. We can be who we want to be through customizing our profiles, our phones our laptops, etc. In this same sense, we can pretend to emulate stars just like stars emulate past characters.
On the other hand, music has always been a venue for protest. Embedded within pop videos is a social critique. Underground scenes verbalize social critiques. Both plead for unity and understanding.
So yes, we could call pop inauthentic, but this very act is contradictory. Pop music, just as any underground genre, paints a picture for us that offers a social critique of the world. It is a social critique that might be submerged under the décor of the pop world, however, it is there and it is very much as real as the truth that the underground advocates. It allows us to survive in a world we have no control over. It allows us to rewrite our truth.
Neglecting to acknowledge the similarities would be a setback for the ambitions of all genres and artists. Superiority does not exist in the world of art.
All The Worlds A Stage
Characters:
Janelle Monae as Android
Stefani Germanotta as Lady Gaga
Michael Jackson as Zombie
David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust
Natasha Khan as Bat For Lashes
Beyonce Knowles as Sasha Fierce
Isadore Schwartz as Irving Fields
For years, people have tried to separate the music world by genre. And while it is true that music differs in sound, it would be negligent to not note music's intrinsic similarities. However, the similarity has been obscured by pride. The categorization of music spawned the act of devaluing and valuing genres based on taste. While pop culture is regarded as lacking taste and originality, underground music fads are labeled as "real" music. Nevertheless, if this were the case, we would be ignoring the basis for music. Sound, or in this instance, music is a means of survival. It is a way for us to distinguish ourselves in a world that is regarded as a unsatisfying, oppressed, separated, hateful and mundane. With that said, it's no surprise that music created stories for us; Little havens providing an escape from reality. It made possible or at least, imaginable, worlds not accessible in the everyday world.
Willamsburg’s use of a mix of tribal sounds to formulate what is acknowledged as a worldbeat is the same as pop music’s reapproriation of the characters of pop music’s past to create an identity. They are both taking the sounds or characters of the past, to foster something new and original. This is most prominent in Brooklyn’s most successful musical talents. In MGMT’s videos, the sounds of Williamsburg are embodied for the world’s eye. Immediately, we see that it is meant to evoke a trance-like state, taking us beyond the bounds of an all-too-mundane reality.
What the Williamsburg scene gives us through sound, the pop scene gives us through visuals. Under the mask or the alter-ego, we make the impossible possible. One of the most fascinating things about the most successful and memorable pop artists is even though they were typically the most heavily decorated, they were also the blankest slates. They are filled with mystery, ambiguity and androgyny. We are seeing this play out in acts such as Lady Gaga and Janelle Monae. In this sense, we can live our lives through them since they can be anybody. They are beyond the bounds of reality and the body.
But what is it about this contrived world that seems so real to us?
I think this fascination is fueled by the façade of self-importance and a state of frustration that is leading to protest.
On the one hand, music is allowing us to be larger than life. Technology gave us the façade of self-importance. We have everything we could dream of at our fingertips. We can be who we want to be through customizing our profiles, our phones our laptops, etc. In this same sense, we can pretend to emulate stars just like stars emulate past characters.
On the other hand, music has always been a venue for protest. Embedded within pop videos is a social critique. Underground scenes verbalize social critiques. Both plead for unity and understanding.
So yes, we could call pop inauthentic, but this very act is contradictory. Pop music, just as any underground genre, paints a picture for us that offers a social critique of the world. It is a social critique that might be submerged under the décor of the pop world, however, it is there and it is very much as real as the truth that the underground advocates. It allows us to survive in a world we have no control over. It allows us to rewrite our truth.
Neglecting to acknowledge the similarities would be a setback for the ambitions of all genres and artists. Superiority does not exist in the world of art.
All The Worlds A Stage
Characters:
Friday, September 18, 2009
Off the Record
"Yet it is precisely the recognition of jingles and brand names, precisely what high culturalist abhor, that links us as a culture"~ Adcult USA
In Twitchell's Adcult USA, it is stated that if a monolithic order were to exist, it would be at the hands of an ad saturated culture where the worlds of high culture and pop culture merge. Of course, I didn't give this concept a second thought until I came across the sound clip of Barack Obama calling Kanye West a "jackass."
President Obama called Kanye a "jackass." It is probably one of the few things that people will remember about Obama's presidency. However, the one thing that is particularly fascinating about this sound clip is its ability to link us together in the name of pop culture while simultaneously enforcing limits on appropriate presidential speech.
On the one hand, I can't name any other time in American history when a president managed to muster up the support of so many people in strong opposition to his policies (at least in the context of this comment). Here, we can see liberals and conservatives uproariously agreeing with each other regarding the character or West.
At the same time, we can hear a few others expressing their anger toward Obama's "unprofessional" comment and fear that our country is headed in the wrong direction.
Strictly examining this from a pop culture perspective, Obama's intonation and words serve for a basis for listeners to gauge his character in a less critical manner. It's as if the policies and the work fade into the background. After hearing the sound clip, many from differing political viewpoints voice that Obama is "human" and "cool." This stresses the fact that certain types of speech are acceptable while others are not. Here, Obama can speak about a pop culture figure and amass approval. However, when he speaks about health care reform, there is much more resistance.
What does this sound clip suggest about our culture?
Although this comment probably won't be documented in a history book, it will resonate in the minds of people from all political perspectives. In other words, it is technically spoken off the record, but it also reaches well beyond the bonds of the record. Popular culture is becoming one of the ways that we subconsciously navigate ourselves because it offers something for everyone; something we can all agree on.
In Twitchell's Adcult USA, it is stated that if a monolithic order were to exist, it would be at the hands of an ad saturated culture where the worlds of high culture and pop culture merge. Of course, I didn't give this concept a second thought until I came across the sound clip of Barack Obama calling Kanye West a "jackass."
President Obama called Kanye a "jackass." It is probably one of the few things that people will remember about Obama's presidency. However, the one thing that is particularly fascinating about this sound clip is its ability to link us together in the name of pop culture while simultaneously enforcing limits on appropriate presidential speech.
On the one hand, I can't name any other time in American history when a president managed to muster up the support of so many people in strong opposition to his policies (at least in the context of this comment). Here, we can see liberals and conservatives uproariously agreeing with each other regarding the character or West.
At the same time, we can hear a few others expressing their anger toward Obama's "unprofessional" comment and fear that our country is headed in the wrong direction.
Strictly examining this from a pop culture perspective, Obama's intonation and words serve for a basis for listeners to gauge his character in a less critical manner. It's as if the policies and the work fade into the background. After hearing the sound clip, many from differing political viewpoints voice that Obama is "human" and "cool." This stresses the fact that certain types of speech are acceptable while others are not. Here, Obama can speak about a pop culture figure and amass approval. However, when he speaks about health care reform, there is much more resistance.
What does this sound clip suggest about our culture?
Although this comment probably won't be documented in a history book, it will resonate in the minds of people from all political perspectives. In other words, it is technically spoken off the record, but it also reaches well beyond the bonds of the record. Popular culture is becoming one of the ways that we subconsciously navigate ourselves because it offers something for everyone; something we can all agree on.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Identification Code: Unidentified
In the Museum of Jurassic Technology, locating yourself visually is an arduous task in and of itself. Consequently, this facet impelled me to contemplate MJT in terms of its sound. When walking through the museum, I quickly noticed that sound is not contained within rooms (which is standard of most museums). It escapes and flows freely throughout the space. Even the audio presentations channeled through a telephone system could be heard while walking past certain displays (another sound commonly confined and intended for the individual listener). At the same time, other audio presentations were acoustically subtle to the extent that I could not isolate the presenter's voice from the music emanating from nearby display rooms.
Naturally, being born into a culture that values and protects personal space, I immediately thought I'd experience a moment of panic since the sound mimicked the social interaction in MJT. However, for a reason unbeknownst to me, I didn't perceive the closeness as invasive but rather inviting. For a moment, I had thought I had found the holy grail of soundscapes. The unbordered soundscape. A sanctuary of sound where you can free yourself from thought and access the world of curiosity and wonderment.
I was soon faced with reality at the site of the exhibit featuring a dog with a man barking in its head. Alas, the staunch reminder of organized sound. However, even this grim of a realization was overshadowed by the intricate organization of the sonic environment housed inside MJT. Perhaps this was the ideal acoustic design Schafer and his research team were advocating for.
There was one theme that was prominent inside the walls of MJT. Walking through the museum, I could not identify a soundmark. No identified soundmark: no recognized authority. For this reason, you could hear any sound at any given time depending on what your ear transfixed itself on first. This characteristic alone revealed that MJT was organized to excite, entice and invite the mind on a journey meant to explore the world sans soundmarks.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Reverberation
Skateboaring. It has become as ordinary to a college campus as studying. Needless to say, this eventually generated an aural passivity in me when it came to skateboard sonance. However, my ear's curiousity was stimulated when the mundanity was illuminated through reverberation.
I've had two weeks to become fully acclimated with the new and extended path to my car this semester (courtesy of my negligence in remembering to purchase a parking pass). Being that it's been hot and humid and I bore fairly easy, I've taken on the character of an automaton while walking to my car. For these same reasons, I have also been searching for distractions to divert my attention from the walk that is nothing short of an annoyance.
Typically, skateboards signify alert in my mind. This is probably heavily influenced by my paranoia of being hit by students on bikes who are probably as bemused as myself while walking through campus. However, on Thursday afternoon, I heard the sounds of a student skateboarding before I was able to visually locate the site of the sound. Although the sound was remininscent of a skateboard, there was something unusual about it this time. When I realized that the sound being emitted by the skateboard was the product of reverberation caused by the roof hovering above, I averted my eyes from the scene and abosrbed the sound. It was then that it became extraordinary to me.
Perhaps it was the receptiveness of my senses caused by my mood during the walk, but there was something unfamiliar about that noise that made me smile. It was different, yet relaxing. And for the time being, it provided me with my much needed distraction and the inspiration to continue to my destination.
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