Archive for category Art
sound?
While preparing to kick off my dissertation project (read more about my dissertation at sammerciers.com), I sought advice from people with a background in video or film. I was confident I could handle the technical aspects of making film projects. What I was looking for was the sage advice of an Obi-Wan to my Luke Skywalker – some overarching principles to guide me. The most common advice I got was something like this, “Don’t just throw the video portion in as an afterthought. Make sure that it has a reason to be there.” Good advice no doubt, yet the more I’ve considered this advice the more I’ve realized that this is the way music is treated in film projects most of the time. How often in your average summer blockbuster could you take the existing score and replace it with something from Sibelius with no one being the wiser? I recently found this film through ubu.com. If you have an interest in sound as art, you should check it out.
25 Magnificent Modern Day Movie Illustrations (Repost)
I stole this link from a friend. It highlights modern artwork interpretations of movie posters and novelizations of some famous movies. Check it out:
http://www.mymodernmet.com/profiles/blogs/25-magnificent-modern-day
Twistori
Ok, I know I just posted a piece of Twitter-based web art last week. Since I discovered that, though, I’ve come across another one that I like even more. It’s inspired by We Feel Fine, which we showed you a few months ago. Twistori compiles new tweets with the words “I love,” “I hate,” “I think,” “I feel,” “I believe,” and “I wish.” You can select any of those six, and tweets will roll by. The presentation is simple and elegant. My favorite that I’ve seen so far is “I wish I were a llama in a great big llama world!!!” Check out Twistori!
Twyric
Yes, that’s a made up word, but I didn’t make it up. The Christian Mähler at Twyric.com did. Twyric is one of many web art projects that are taking advantage of the rapid pace of the creation of new, personal content on blogs and websites like Twitter, Flickr, Tumblr, and others. Mähler’s program constantly combs through new Twitter posts in search of poems (by looking at hashtags). Then, it looks through the words of the poem, and tries to find tagged images on Flickr that it thinks pair appropriately with the poem. The results are mixed, but I kind of like that the poems and pictures don’t always make a clean connection or that either the poem or the picture (or both) might not be very good. Check it out for yourself: http://twyric.com/. It can also be your screen saver. You can even customize it to look for specific kinds of Twitter poems (like haiku) or Flickr images.
Here’s one I saw recently:
Catharsis
When I visited the St. Louis Art Museum as a kid, this was always one of my favorite pieces. Now, thanks to their eMuseum, I can share it with everybody. I liked to think of Paganini sawing a way so hard and fast that his violin exploded and was somehow captured in a kind of three-dimensional photograph.

Paganini's Soul
| Paganini’s Soul 1979 |
| Arman American (born France), born 1928 |
| charred violin in plastic |
Wandering in the Wilderness Vol. 2: The Sound of Silence
And the sign said,
“The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence”
- from “The Sound of Silence” by Simon & Garfunkel
In this installment of WitW, I would like to discuss the use of silence as a compositional tool. I don’t mean short, dramatic uses, such as the GP commonly found in classical music, but significant spans of time devoted to silence for compositional reasons. To this end, we will explore three distinct approaches to silence by three different 20th/21st centuryAmerican composers. Any discussion of silence as a compositional device, of course must begin with John Cage’s 4′33″.
4′33″ is the infamous piece of silent music, whose entire score consists of three movements of indeterminate length, each marked “tacet” (the movements are traditionally, but not necessarily, marked off by the performer in some way). For Cage, any sound was music. He is quoted as saying that he would rather listen to the sounds of traffic than to the symphonies of Beethoven (I’m paraphrasing from memory, although I’m pretty sure that’s the essence of it). 4′33”, therefore, is a framing device. It sets a certain boundary, and says, “anything within this boundary is art, pay attention to it.” Consider the following images:

Some urinals
Both images are of urinals. The first, however, is found in an art gallery, while the second image is from a public restroom. While both objects are essentially similar, the context, or the framing, of these objects significantly impacts the way we think about these objects. With the first, we may think of questions like “Is this really art?” or “If I pee in this, where would the pee go?” or “Would I get arrested if I tried to pee in it?” or “Why did I let Ty drag me to this modern art museum?” With the second, this is a context in which we (at least those of us who are male) are used to encountering urinals, and little thought is given to them (with the exception of special rules which apply to public urinals). Anyways, back to John Cage. The brilliance of 4′33″ as a framing device is that any sounds that arise during these boundaries are unintentional, the sounds that are normally blocked out or ignored during “normal” performances. It provides a new context for listeners to consider sounds which would normally be dismissed.
While a recording of 4′33″ is not necessary (one only needs a stopwatch to perform the piece in the comforts of one’s own home), I couldn’t resist linking to this performance, which I find particularly compelling.
Another interesting use of silence is found in the music of Morton Feldman. Feldman once said that the most beautiful thing a sound ever does is decay. In his works, the textures are often very sparse, so that you can appreciate the sound in its entirety, decay and all. Feldman’s counterpart in the visual art world is Mark Rothko, who uses simple designs to invite the viewer to appreciate the subtleties of color and texture in the works. For an example of Feldman’s use of silence, check out this recording of “The King of Denmark” for solo percussionist:
In “The king of Denmark,” the sparse textures isolate individual sounds and allow the listener to appreciate their qualities more fully than they might in a more dense musical situation.
The final composer I will discuss in this post is Thomas DeLio. In addition to being an influential composer, DeLio is also one of the foremost scholars in contemporary music, with a special interest in the music of Morton Feldman, John Cage, and Iannis Xenakis. The most striking characteristic of DeLio’s music is his use of long periods of silence. In a few of his pieces, the total duration of the silences is greater than the total duration of the musical material. The reason for this is that DeLio approaches silences functionally in a way that is fundamentally different from that of Cage or Feldman. For Cage, silence was a framing device to invite the unintended; for Feldman, it was a blank canvas on which individual sound colors are accented. DeLio’s use, however, is to frustrate the listener’s memory. The natural tendency of listeners is to process sounds by putting them in the context of sounds which proceed and follow them. This is a natural process, and most music relies on this contextualization to create coherent musical ideas. DeLio, however, attempts to isolate musical material by use of silences, so that each sound or gesture can be appreciated individually. The listener hears a gesture, followed by a long span of silence, and by the time the next gesture occurs, the listener has forgotton what the preceding gesture had sounded like. This music can seem strange and even unsettling to the casual listener; such long spans of silence are very uncommon in music, and create a certain amount of tension between the audience and performer. To give you an example of DeLio’s music, here is a performance of this author performing DeLio’s wave/s for solo percussionist:
This concludes my look at three different composers and how they use silence in unique ways. I hope you have found this interesting and that it gives you another point of view as you approach contemporary music. See you next time, when we’ll explore…something. I don’t have a topic picked out, and I am open to suggestions. Peace.
The Wall Project (part 1)
The Wall Project is one of my many goofy ideas, but unlike most of my goofy ideas, this one has actually grown in to a cool, collaborative piece of art.
I’ve always enjoyed doodling, and I think a lot of my visual art is really a slightly grown-up form of doodles. One day during an idle office hour (redundant?), I began doodling on some 3×5.5-inch scraps of paper that I had leftover from printing scores for a saxophone piece the night before. I kind of liked my doodle, but I was running out of room on the small card. So, I grabbed another card and continued my doodle onto it. I ended up liking my doodle so much that I decided to tape it to the wall of the office that I shared with 9 other music theory teaching assistants. Later that week, a couple of other TAs grabbed cards and continued my doodles in interesting and unexpected ways. I thought, “How cool is that? We should do another one.” So, with the same scraps of paper and armed with some colored pencils, I started a collaborative art piece that I now call either the Wall Project (as it was originally sticking cards to the wall here at the Guidonian Hand Executive Office Suite) or the Big Board (as it is now sticking cards to a big piece of foam board).
The piece has grown beyond what I ever expected it could, and the board only has room for about ten or so more cards (as of this writing). People that have contributed are mostly composers and musicians, and none of us have any formal training in art. They are friends and acquaintances from all over the place that have just so happened to be in the same room as the big board and were in a creative mood. I like to take the board to parties and invite people to add to it. Some of my friends like it so much that they have added four, five, or even six cards to the project.
I’m starting a series about the Wall Project here on the blog. Each post will include a photo of an individual card, and then that card with the other cards that were on the board when it was added (moving more-or-less in chronological order).
Here’s the inaugural card of the Wall Project, created by yours truly:

Wall Project: Card 1 (David MacDonald)
It’s intended to be rather non-descript. I didn’t want to impose myself on the work at the beginning, but I needed to start with something. I tried to start a trend of initialling and dating each card (bottom right conrner), but that never really caught on. Stay RSS-fed for the next installment, and keep your eye on that blue squiggly thing. I think of it as a river viewed from above, but I wonder what other artists are going to do with that…



