Very honoured to be awarded a “Highly Commended” at the Hidden Sculpture Walk Prize. Thanks to all who lent their voices: Terry, Robin Ayse, Kresho, Ale, Rohan, Gaspare, Derren, Raul and Garth.
I recently collaborated with video artist Annika Harrison for specially curated show Looking for Sound as Part of the Hungry for Art festival in Ryde.
It is a binaural piece so make sure you wear your headphones!
Follow the link if not working to listen/watch.
“Trust me, this will take time but there is order here, very faint, very human. Meander if you want to get to town.”
This work is about creating an otherworldly, ethereal experience for the viewer, the idea that, while familiar, the space created both sonically and visually is simultaneously dreamlike and hyper-real. The blend of generational voices seeks to give the idea of cyclical time, mimicked in the endless loop of moving through the trees, as well as the impression that the trees themselves are whispering their secrets to those who listen.
This piece is adapted for radio from the audio component of an prior installation Profit [or Loss]. Unlike the installation piece, which was purposely created as a type of endurance listening, this work is holds a loose narrative and is more specifically a sound collage using field recordings from the urban bush and local shopping center in Sydney alongside the vocal iterations. The sound sourced(recognisable to many living here) is from one of the two companies which are systematically homogenizing every Australian city and town and who enjoy the largest duopoly in the world. And no, I will not mention their names. I post this remix in the lead up to Christmas as a comment on where free market capitalism is leading us.
This project forms one layer of a palimpsest of works I am creating on the Cooks River traversing its geography, history, and community through explorations of real and imagined ecologies through its stories.
A big thank you to all the poets who made the work such a success. The audio of the voices gradually pans from left to right.
Here are some snippets:
A slow trickle is all it takes to start, the slow wearing away of the channels of a heart made weary with the turmoil of remembrance, past. …
The river banks widen, and I feel pride when, I look back not with sorrow or regret at the river’s passing but towards a tomorrow where I won’t forget that the river’s course is everlasting, and I know in my heart through strength of will that while the current departs, the river, still, it flows on.BILAL HAFDA
Beyond the highlands of Yagoona.
I watch the river drops open their eyes,
and angels descend so the hunger may be fed. ABDULLAH NOMAN
Tiptoed around the rivers wrist.
He told me that you never step into the same river twice.
Throw rocks into the black ink.
Watch them sink.
Making tidal waves around our ankles. GLORIA DEMILLO
Because I loved you … with the urgency of the river that clambours over rocks sand valleys to rush penitently to the sea, with the love that rebirthed the spring foliage and then scattered the leaves in an autumn breeze to places they would lie untouched for all time. SARA MANSOUR
Navigating the space between Dryness and wetness in emptiness I skim lonely stones on the Lacunae of a Lagoons lament. …
Truth, I realise, is the tentative touch of the
Surface the bubbling and rippling
Bending the structure to allow
For your Curvature,
And not the other way around.
It is bigger than me and so
It becomes me. NATALIE POWPOV
We’re down by the Cooks River and it’s late, past midnight, and we sit in the shadows listening to the humming of the insects. …
In the river the machine settles into the mud, beside the bicycle frames and wheelie bins and traffic cones, the low-tide ghosts. VANESSA BERRY
My home was once a pleasant place of cool waters and fresh grasses.
We ibises lived there since Gondwana land cracked and foundered apart from Pangea. …
Then the water in our ponds started dying up, the grasses browned and died.
The eggs did not hatch. We died in numbers we cannot count.
Like stars in the sky, our bones littered the dry bare earth. …
Those of us with strength took flight, following the winds until we found refuge in the filthy concrete banked river where the once the Gadigal people fished, their children splashing in the shadows. …
We, former gods in another dry land, you now revile as vermin. …
We have adapted. Just like you.
We are your mirror. LOU STEER
The consciousness of this once fine stream
now polluted in the minds
and in reality…
her waters trickle amongst their waste,
no hunter would bend down for a taste
and the Currawongs have flown away.
Willows wallow in her sorrow;
concreted, covered, converted
as does not befit her Indigenous or European names.
Ravaged for decades and awash with shame,
stripped of her beauty, we are to blame,
But the tail of many creatures regenerate,
…and so too will the tail of Gamay. JONATHON DAVIS
The Last Tree is a sound sculpture/installation that uses almost entirely second hand materials (except for one cable), paper and recycled technology(a second hand dvd player, amp and a bunch of old forgotten ear phones, collected form the draws of friends and family. It is a comment on the ecological “deafness” that seems dangerously present in much of society. We are often caught up in our own worlds both figuratively and acoustically. It seeks to explore that which has no voice. When all to often see ourselves as separate for our environment rather than intimately tied to it. The multi-channel audio arrangement or overheard sound that comes form the earphones tiny speakers consist: of interviews of children speaking about trees; an extract from author Herman Hesse’s Bäume: Betrachtungen und Gedichte (Trees: Observations and Poems) and a track from Bartolomäus Traubeck’s Years which is constructed from a record player that plays slices of wood and interprets the strength and grain of the wood into piano music. What I wanted the viewer/listener to consider with this work was the direction in which technology is leading us and what implications that has not only for the future but also for future generations.
Domesticity 1.0 is a sound installation. The audio comprises a polyvocal arrangement of assertions of compliance by women in multiple languages, mixed with sounds of water and washing machines. The audio plays from a speaker under the drainage hole of an old 1950s Clark sink and cabinet, enticing the listener to seek out the source of the voices.
Domesticity 1.0 seeks to question the historically patriarchal idea of selfless domestic servitude. The physical component, a 1950s Clark sink, is an object of domesticity refurbished in a deep, almost menstrual red colour, pearled and gilded evoking both the suggestion of intimacy and hyper reality in order to exaggerate the conceptual ideal expected of women. But what is the contemporary ideal? What is Domesticity 2.0? Has it changed and how much is perpetuated by the legacy of earlier concepts; that is Domesticity 1.0?
Domesticity 1.0, after being selected for entry in the competition, won first place in the International Women’s Day Art prize in Ryde 2014. Above is a picture of the installation.
This multichannel Radio work was created to be broadcast over two stations. It is a humble reflection on love based on Roland Barthes’Fragments d’un Discours Amoureux- a Lover’s Discourse and falls into three parts: Souvenir/remembrance, Mutisme/silence and Magie/magic the last leaf. Each side can be listened to independently and work together as a quadrophonic work.
The picture is an excerpt taken from a Thailandese artist, whose work I saw in a gallery in Bangkok a number of years ago. Unfortunately, I don’t have her name recorded!! If any one recognises it, I would love to know!
Love Bytes recently aired in Sweden as part of the DubbelRadio festival in conjunction with Konsthalle and mobile-radio.
Here is what they sound like together: Listen on a surround system for extra effect!