Instability As Art
“Relearn astonishment.”― Elias Canetti
I have marveled at the music of William Basinski since Allan and Andy from Aquarius Records turned me on to his release Variations: A Movement In Chrome Primitive in 2004. It was only after listening to that record over and over again, with its minimal piano playing filtered through reverberations and distortions, that I read about and sought out his famous Disintegration Loops. The Disintegration Loops were recordings of tape loops disintegrating over time—slow, classical pieces, with ghostly voices and instrumental sounds in a monasterial setting…slowly devolving. They were a reaction to the fall of the twin towers and the deep sadness that filled the hearts of a country.
Much has been written about how the experience of listening to The Disintegration Loops became one of healing, triggered by the epic expansiveness of the swell of Basinski’s nurturing sound waves; Basinski was composing music that seemed to help the listener deal with grief through a dark, brooding sound that was as fragile as life, as natural and ever-replenishing as a running stream. A symphony orchestra eventually performed the first of the Disintegration series, with the arrangements of the strings and winds reflecting the sounds and feelings of his original recording…except on a much grander, more epic stage. The classical world had noticed William Basinski; he had gone beyond the world of the experimental, of the avant-garde.
Basinski has continued to push the boundaries of his recordings, just recently in 2019 with his On Time Out of Time release, which uses the audio data of two black holes colliding, retrieved by The Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory (LIGO), to trigger a minimalistic audio piece…droned-out, extra-terrestrial. It is breathtaking to listen to the layered sounds he creates, only to end by stripping them down to the blips and bleeps from outer space.
This past weekend, I read about a new release he had put out a few months ago, a release where we find Basinski in a duet with fellow sound-designer Janek Schaefer. The record is called …on reflection and it is five pieces for piano and field recordings that represent another beautiful chapter in the work of both musicians. Unlike much of the past work, …on reflection leans more into the reverberated dreaminess and less into the distorted imaginations. The piano pieces have been digitally assembled, loops and repetitions, with sounds of memories following along throughout. The meshed sounds remind me of Stan Shaff & Doug McEachern’s Audium soundtrack, designed to trigger the listeners own memories while being sonically lulled into an open state of mind. What Basinski and Schaefer offer here is a sentimental experience via their combined sound sculpture, driven by the former’s seasoned ability to touch the soul.
…on reflection is a great introduction to Basinski’s work given its beauty and clarity, a portal of entry to the environment he has nurtured over the years, his signature sound forrest. In a dark world, a world on fire (sending thoughts out to those in the Yosemite region this morning, as well as all of those experiencing triple-digit heat), the bath of sound that Basinski paints, with his ability to heal and calm through his art, is a needed thing.
Library of the Unexpected: Highlight of New Library of Congress Magazine
As I have commented on before, the LOC’s seasonal magazine is a beautifully created publication, always featuring treasures from the collection most of which I have never seen before. The above link is the PDF of the newest volume in its entirety, including an article about “unexpected items” in the collection, including the above photo of contents of Lincoln’s pockets when he was shot. This current mag also showcases jazz photos from the 30s, an ancient golden record of earth sounds, and much more.
This new film, in collaboration with the Stax museum, chronicles the “journey into Soul music through the hearts of some of the greatest Soul artists at Italy’s unique Porretta Soul Festival….Since its first event in 1988, the festival has featured many soul artists, including Harvey Scales, Toni Green, Otis Clay, and many more. In several moving interviews the artists describe not only important moments in the history of American music but also their careers as soul artists, their fears of being forgotten, and how they found a new audience in a place they never expected.” Trailer here.
New technology examines old Jack London mysteries
How did Jack London die? For those who care, it is a century old debate. Did he have a disease (my Dad rejected that idea based on the film footage of him days before death, shown at the Wolf House gift shop)? Did he drink himself to death? Was it because of harder drugs? This new research seeks to figure it out…
In The Congo: These artists transform garbage into garb to take a stand
You have to see this article to take in the incredible imagination of the artists featured. The suits they are creating…how they are photographed…are breathtaking…totally psychedelic…telling horrific stories around garbage and pollution in ways only art can do.
Bob Rafelson: subtle and complex director was presiding genius of the Hollywood new wave
Thank you Bob Rafelson for so much….but more than anything: The Monkees. RIP.
The Rail Yards Market hosts Frito pie fundraiser
“Four chefs will compete to take home the title of ‘number one Frito pie creator.’ (Chef Contestant Brian) Bowman said he will prepare original Frito pies and other variations ‘based on things he wants to try.’”
Who Am I?
By: Carl Sandberg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading "Keep Off."
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
The Heads Of Stanislav Hanzík
