not the most calm period right now with so much going on around.
Also the imminent journeying (around the world) as it seems starts to crease my forehead as it materialises from an ether.
a reservoir of invisible dreaming.
what is a train is not so much the question. but where is a train. and where is it relative to its start and finish.
In its many depictions and metaphors of journey, the image of it moving towards a (vanishing) point of infinity seems to reflect a drone or engine hum that continues, resonates down a road with no end – or at least no end in sight.
If the fundamental attribute of matter were resonance, its journey and the process of its being carried – lifted from its insularity to ecology is its reverberation. it is the echo or refrain of the particle that excites its environment, that talks to it as though leaned up against its side in an anti-language of purity, a post-language. Perhaps it is better described as a transmission or a Segue.
The segue is the train that amplifies its journey. it is its proverbial destination whether calculated or imaginary that justifies and mystifies itself and the trail of its sounding.
I want to think of a work that looks to the vanishing point as a sonic phenomenon. perhaps it is mysterious in the sense that you’d never really know where it is and what type of space it inhabits so to imagine such a sound is like thinking about the infinite echoes that space fiction depicts when falling into a black hole :
‘nooo ooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo’ *cue cute but insightful emoticon of an alien with a huge mouth.
As my history teacher back in secondary school used to say
“if you want to get there – when you reach there, there will be no there there”
Because sound and space are so intertwined, the idea of a sonic vanishing point is a purely ideological phenomenon. to begin to formulate a sound in your mind tarnishes its premise because that space in your mind (Q: where is sound ‘situated’ when you think of it) is still a possibility. And the vanishing point is not.
Then again, the vanishing point is all about perspectives. As a painting draws people into a hypothetical end point, so its more about creating the environment for the perspective that allows the point to vanish :
On the trajectory of a medieval aesthetic, the mysticism surrounding the word echo, and its etymology in Mediterranean folklore are described in the curatorial notes to Cara-Ann Simpsons new work at the Seattle artspace Noxious Sector Projects:
There is a Greek legend of a nymph named Echo who was punished by the goddess Hera for consorting with her husband Zeus. Hera stripped Echo of the ability to speak for herself, taking away her voice. From that time on Echo was only ever able to repeat the sounds made by others, reflecting words and songs and sounds back to the world around her.
If imitation is the best form of flattery, one must imagine that Echo would seem a truly charming individual, her repetitions of worldly sounds complimenting those she encounters. Rather than depriving her of an ability to communicate, the strangeness of Hera’s punishment is that it makes Echo even more endearing, repeating what she hears as if to attentively demonstrate that she has understood. It’s the first step in active listening, according to some psychologists — a good listener will repeat what they hear, affirming the voices of others. It’s a touching story, the collaborative art of listening is the guarantee that Echo will never be fully alone.
(Ted Heibert . for full writing and description of Cara’s project Resonations #1 please visit her site at http://www.caraannsimpson.com/work#4)
The idea of an echo within a reverberant space is one that goes deeper within the vanishing point. a black hole of sound – an ideological repository of sonic utterings that indicates more its journey than its endings.
What ideas could this bring to the project?