Stellar Museums, Sensuous Music

I didn't journal much in London, and many of my myriad experiences are still coming back to me...
One of the most amazing museum exhibits I've ever seen is Soundwaves at Kinetica. This tiny glass-walled museum in the center of Spitalfields market was full of innovative, interesting, & interactive sound pieces. My favorite was Michael Markert's "phonetic theremin," sort of a mix between a talk-box and a theremin, that treated the spatial position of your hands as a mouth forming vowels.

That is the kind of work I would LOVE to be able to do. It's nice to experience interactive pieces about sound (not just "music"); be able to point to something specific that I would be proud to call my own. I want to do more research about the methods these artists use. I need to remind myself that such things are possible, and that I probably already have the skills to do some of them! I'll start by refreshing my Max/MSP/Jitter skills, perhaps.


On a different note, any Eno fan (or non-fan, really) who hasn't downloaded the Oblique Strategies widget yet, do so!

Which reminds me, I did a short "study" in the style of Eno last semester:

(© H. Konzman, of course)
The voices are 1920s Tarpon Springs school children reciting the Greek alphabet, courtesy of the Library of Congress.

Sweet dreams.

Miscellaneous & an overuse of quotation marks

Seaweed salad in a sushi restaurant that plays things like "The Girl From Ipanema" on the loudspeakers, and witnessing Mass for Indian immigrants with Bollywood-tinged chanting in a historic Parisian cathedral, and what, really, is "authentic?"

Reading (the same lines five times, in disbelief) in The Economist about the Chinese controlling the weather for the Beijing Olympics, and what, really, is impossible? And what's still "sacred?"


In a way, plane travel is a form of time travel. In that you don't have to traverse all the land/sea in between to get from point a to point b; you're skipping all the in-between time and places that for most of history you would've been forced to experience.


just because

Home?

I didn't start this as a purely personal journal, but inevitably I'm still holding conversation with myself, so here's the thought of the day:

Suburban Wasteland
I like to think I'm fairly open-minded, but I recognize I'm probably more judgmental of the "culture" I come from than of any others I've experienced. This is partly due to all the negative associations I have with growing up here. I don't think that I'm better than anyone, even if I happen to be more "worldly," or whatever.

...But I do think that living in a nondescript area of suburban sprawl, shopping at hideous strip malls and super-size 24-hour marts and eating processed food at chain restaurants contributes to disillusionment. I'm talking simple human happiness factor, too, not even environmental issues. Feelings of isolation are possible (prevalent?) in any living situation, but I guess I'm thinking more in terms of community layout than size. For example, compared to where I went to high school, Ann Arbor feels more village-like, walk-able, and aesthetically pleasing in general (if contrived). Though, compared to a big city with decent public transport, Ann Arbor can be difficult to get around and lacking in entertainment.

Hmm, I think I may be in over my head with this one. I'm not championing the innate virtue of big cities over small towns, but I do think community planning needs to be centered around people rather than corporate interest and consumerism. Wal-Mart and McDonalds, this means you.

Is anyone more familiar with this topic than me?
Suburbs supposedly arose as a form of liberation-- the working classes being able to afford bigger houses and yards and all. Instead of facing anti-Americanism in Britain, many people who'd been here raved about the amount of space and the modernity ("everything's so new and works well"). It came as a surprise, to be sure.

Back in Action

Greetings friends & enemies,

I've just returned from 2.5 months abroad, still jet-lagged and without luggage (thanks again, British Airways). I spent most of my time in lovely London, with trips to Bath, the Scottish highlands, Paris, and Florence.

I ended up doing some post-production sound design on an indie film my last few weeks there, which was pretty exciting. I also acted as recording engineer for the Foley artist- what a riot! I'm not sure of release dates, but there's some info here: The Blue Tower

ANYway, I started this blog with hopes to hold discussion on all manner of creative issues as well as document some of the scattered ideas that float around my head. I don't consider myself lazy, but my art/music/what have you suffers, at times, from a lack of visibility as well as common threads. This doesn't concern me terribly, but I know I need to channel energies and ideas into tangible efforts more efficiently, as well as collaborate more and get over inhibitions.

I'm still unsure of the format (or frequency) this all might take, but for now, here's something I've been pondering:

Critical Mass
In terms of beauty, mostly. On some of my more fast-paced travel excursions I reached points where I felt I couldn't take in any more (at least at my desired level of awareness). This feeling persisted on maybe half the occasions, otherwise it was dissipated by some even more spectacular, if small, event. Is there a limit to the beautiful things or new experiences we can process, and is this mostly influenced by internal or external factors? I've read something about using only a bit of our brains at one time is what allows us to concentrate... but is relatively long-term hyper-awareness possible in someone less than genius? Without substances?

I leave you with an obligatory touristy photo from the top of the Eiffel Tower:



Peace out!