Answers
to (paraphrased) Questions on "Space" by Paulo
Raposo 3/8/07
(how did you become involved in sound-art?)
I started working with sound when I was about 15 years old. I got a four-track
cassette recorder and right from the beginning I was more interested in working
with the sounds around me than with instruments. I started recording thunderstorms,
sounds of breathing, banging on metal and things like that. After I moved to
Austin, Texas in about 1994, I started to meet some of the people who were involved
in a magazine called N D. Though I knew of a few key things, such as John Cage,
the Hafler Trio, Zoviet France, etc, I quickly realized that there were many
other people in the world making this kind of music. It was at that time that
I met Michael Northam, John Grzinich, and Olivia Block and started several important
collaborations. In the past few years my work has diversified quite a bit - from
making work for CDs to making work for dance and theatre, making sound installation
projects, projects with video and sound performances with participants. It's
the last category that interests me the most right now, working with multiple
participants, pre-recorded sounds and acoustic sounds. Really trying to bring
together all of these different medias, possibly with video as well.
(did you think about space from the beginning?)
Well, I think at the beginning my equipment was not good enough to consider space
as an inherent part of most material. But around the I time I met John and Olivia,
I started investing more money in equipment, better microphones. We did a lot
of exploring of spaces around Austin and there's an early cassette we made called "Tunnels/Stairwell" where
we entered into long concrete tunnels to make recordings, bringing objects and
instruments with us. The piece on the other side of the cassette was recorded
in a stairwell that had a 7-second reverberation. We placed microphones throughout
the different levels of the space, and mixed them live to DAT. Listening to the
way that architecture changes space and sounds, and at that time mostly working
with improvisation. Those experiments really started to spur my interest in the
idea of "playing" the spaces themselves. As soon as my first cd, "Tracing
the Skins of Clouds", I started becoming interested specifically in the
idea of conflicting spaces. That's something that still interests me quite a
bit - an idea of bringing together recordings from different spaces, spaces that
don't match and weren't 'meant' to be heard together, forcing them into a kind
of relationship.
A lot of times the spaces go through multiple processes of re-recording. I'll
take something that I've recorded in one space and then bring speakers into another
space to play it, adding another layer of activity. So they can become really
quite convoluted processes. I think primarily, and especially recently, I've
been interested in a quality that I've been calling "awkwardness",
by which I don't mean a kind of unresolvedness, but more something that is intentional
awkwardness. A kind of tension within the sounds that I think happens when, for
example, conflicting spaces are layered together. Something about how the ear
is unable to complete a picture of what the space actually is. Despite their
varied qualities, these sounds have a distinct relationship, either through their
synchronicity or their timbral quality. And yet there's something awkward about
a relationship that doesn't quite fit together.
One example which is now fairly old would be the first track on Umbra. I was
working with the idea of recording very very close spaces, actually trying to
record the space inside of resonant tubes. So I was using a lot of blown tubes,
both actual instruments like flutes and whistles, but also things like bottles
and jugs, found objects, things like that. Trying to record those as closely
as possible and heavily layered, but then behind that straata of the sound, trying
to "hide" a very, very expansive sound. I recorded distant fireworks,
a sound that reaches miles into the distance. But the relationship between the
sounds is one that the more expansive sound is contained within the very close
sound. There's a kind of conflict.
(can you tell me about this track you sent? what is it called?)
It doesn't have a title, but it's the second track from my new cd called Amnemonic
Site. That track is a good example of the idea of re-recording inside of spaces.
I applied a lot of that process in this project. Some of it was re-recorded in
a large warehouse, with the microphones placed at quite a distance from the speakers.
The track begins with the sound of fabric being whipped, which works very well
as a way of revealing the contours of a fairly small room. Over the course of
the track, it moves from a small space, opening up into a very large one.
(are you interested in social spaces?)
Yeah, I would say so. I mean, the spaces I'm recording in are usually empty of
people other than myself and the sounds that I'm putting into them. I am interested
in social spaces in regards to performance, of course. But I feel like that's
a very different project. I mean, performance is inherently spatial, or at least
in the way that I think of it, so I really want to question some of the standardized
architectures in music performance, and to try and disperse the sounds and the
audience throughout a space. I'm still working on strategies of how to do that
effectively.
(what about installation? is that one way?)
I've really only done a few projects like that so I feel that many of the ideas
have have yet to be realized. The most recent piece was a collaboration with
a dancer here in Portland named Linda Austin. It used 3 video projections and
8 speakers. I filmed her performing the same 15 minute dance 3 times from 3 different
heights. One camera recorded her feet, another recorded her torso and another
recorded her head. Those projections were dispersed in the space along with 3
recordings of the sounds that she made while dancing, as well as a composed sound
piece. It was a very anti-minimalist installation! (laughter) There was a lot
going on and it was impossible for a viewer to take in all of the information
at once. There was no position in the room where you could see or hear everything.
I think some of the ideas that I'm just starting to work with now involve multiple...
I've started making animations using a digital camera, still images that are
animated. So I'm interested in syncronizing those very carefully with the sound,
but then dispersing the images throughout a space. The images that I've been
working with are either surveys of the spaces where sounds are recorded - empty
rooms, or a kind of fanciful playing of objects that might not actually make
sound. Things like crystals, feathers, birds nests, pieces of clay and glass,
etc. So I've just been planning an installation piece that would utilize all
of that material. It's more just a formal idea at this point, a way of organizing
sound and image into syncronized movements but without a shared linear goal.
(and what about the pieces for participants?)
The pieces that I've made for multiple performers in the past have always surrounded
the audience, with the performers on the periphery of the space, more or less
evenly distributed. I guess my idea with that was a kind of optimization of the
listening experience, so that there's a maximum of spatial movement and a general
equivalency for all listeners. But an idea that I'd like to move towards in future
performances throws that idea out and starts with something that's a bit more
choreographed and decentralized. The performers would be completely interspersed
with the audience, and I imagine the event in a fairly large space with people
standing, so that they are not sedentary listers, they are listeners who are
moving, and the performers are doing the same thing. That kind of interspersed
quality interests me much more now, and the idea that one will miss things. There
is no perfect listening position. That just really changes the way that, as a
composer, I start to organize the material, because then there's really not any
one ideal finished version of the piece. It's more a matter of creating an environoment
that has enough complexity in it to interest anyone at any position, at least
over time.
(does this make you question recorded works for CD?)
I don't know if a CD really shares the same kind of concerns, because it's so
much more of a private experience. I have absolutely no control over the environment
of the listener. Within that type of situation, I'm able to excersize my interest
in compositional precision, I guess. So actually going into the level of a microsecond
and making changes. Getting interested in those kinds of really small details.
But then the end result is a private experience that I have no access to as a
composer. Of course, it's private also in its creation, to some degree. I've
been involving my friends in recording "sessions", mostly for voice.
They glimpse a small part of the thought process, but they don't know how the
recordings fit in the bigger picture. The actual of act of putting the pieces
together happens in a very personal, focused space. At the same time, I've enjoyed
playing works-in-progress to friends and getting detailed reactions.
(would you say there is a gap between composer and listener in regards to studio
composition?)
Yes, there is a gap, but I don't think it's necessarily problematic. I think
it's more in the nature of the media. I think that what can become problematic
is when people (and I'm guilty of this myself) approach performance as if it
were the essentially the same as a published media. To not utilize the full capabilities
of social space in a performance. SItting on a stage, with a frontal view of
a performer sitting at a tab le with objects or a laptop, or whatever. I mean,
that can result in interesting sounds and a satisfying listening experience,
but it doesn't utilize fully the performative aspect of a shared social space.
(can you tell me about the magazine you help create?)
So I've been working on a magazine called FO A RM since about 2002, and the fifth
issue is out now, finally. My co-editors for this issue were Matt Marble, Bethany
Wright and Michael J. Schumacher. It started as a fully interdiscliplinary magazine
- I think we as editors shared a goal of anti-specialization - but it's become
clear over the years that the real interest in the public seems to be for sound
related articles, experimental music content. So we've drifted pretty far into
that territory. The new issue is almost entirely engaged with sound and comes
with a full-length CD with pieces by Michael J. Schumacher, Barbara Held, Jose
Maceda and others. Number 5 will be the last issue of FO A RM, though I will
be continuing with other projects, releasing a CD by Arsenije Jovanovic of his
work of the last 30 years. Another new project is to start an online magazine,
which would have space for both discussion and articles. That's in the development
stages with John Grzinich, Micah Silver and Matt Marble. We feel like it needs
to reach some level of development before we can make it public...
(what do you think about this community?)
The community of experimental music? Well, I think it's a really interesting
community because it's so international. I mean, it's a completely global network
of artists who are familiar with each other's work and probably mostly making
work for each other, when it comes down to it. With a few interested listeners
on the side (laughter). I don't know, I also like the fact that this community
has always in some way operated in a similar manner. Before the internet, people
wrote lots of letters and sent faxes and found ways of communicating internationally
that e-mail and the internet has just made much easier.
(where is sound art going?)
I don't feel like I can make any real predictions about what's happening with
sound art, but it does seem like there's an increasing interest on the level
of institutions and the kind of places that will make this work available - installation
work and those kinds of ephemeral formats. I guess I'm hopeful at this point.
(do you think it's becoming institutionalized?)
Yes, I feel like it is becoming institutionalized, unfortunately just a very
small percentage of it. Or maybe fortunately, I don't know. I think we all deserve
to have some opportunities for realizing pieces in those kinds of settings, but
I think it's really just one possibility of a way of making work. I think it's
equally valid and maybe more interesting to make a piece in the middle of a field
with a few friends or very non-traditional performances spaces, things like that.
But, if a museum offers me the chance to make a piece than I would certianly
accept!
(can you tell me about your collaborations with John Grzinich? How is Gyre different
from the previous CDs, Stria and Confluence?)
Well, John and I have this history of ten-years of collaborating together. Confluence
and Stria were very extended projects. They were things that we started when
we lived in the same place, but then John moved to Europe and was itinerant for
a long time, I moved to Portland. So those works took about two years to complete
and we were working steadily on them the whole time. To me, they feel much more
like heavy, solid, very thoughtful pieces. The more recent one, Gyre happened
more spontaneously and quickly. When I went to visit John in Estonia, we started
making recordings together, with no real goal in mind. Estonia is wonderful for
recording because it's so quiet and there's almost no traffic, there are very
few planes, there's lots of abandoned buildings. So we had a number of sessions
and started gathering material. We then had a residency in Finland and started
assembling things. I guess within two months we had completed the CD, with some
additional touches over the next few months. So it was very quick, it's probably
the quickest thing that I've produced. To me it feels much more light and kind
of breezy, in some sense. It's far less processed, the recordings themselves
are much more clearly acoustic spaces. You can almost hear the tangible quality
of the space where things are happening.
(and your collaboration with Olivia Block?)
The work with Olivia was interesting. I think even more than the work with John,
we both found a kind of middle ground between our personal styles and made compositional
decisions that we wouldn't have made independently. There was a lot of sending
things back and forth for Sunder, Unite. It was pretty much fair game - I could
chop up or distort or edit or destroy her recordings as much as I liked and vice
versa. The result is really... there are a lot of holes punched into the sound,
a lot of cuts. It's not glitch material, but I think the recordings have been
pushed quite a bit more. It's a piece that overall has a lot of space in it,
a lot of quiet areas. It was really fun to make - it all came together in a nice
way. I'd like to do another collaboration with Olivia, eventually.
(do you relate to musique concrete?)
You know, I think the advantage of the current moment is that we can draw from
all of these histories and not have to be identified or linked with any one of
them. I don't think I could be really part of musique concrete, not coming from
that kind of education and institution. I do feel retroactively or just technically
connected with that kind of work. Simply by the fact that almost all of my sources
begin with acoustic sounds, recorded with a microphone, in the way that Schaeffer,
Xenakis, Parmegiani and others collected material. But I feel more connected
with an underground noise movement that might include artists like The New Blockaders
or Giancarlo Toniutti, things like that. That kind of work was equally inspiring
to me, and shares a rawness with the electronic work of Xenakis, which I like
very much.