declaration (draft 1)
I hereby declare
I, from the bottom, completely clarify, in this place, at this time, aroundabout.
The first day, we each in turn state our position - where we are and where we intend to be. Each person has allocated time. For up to ten minutes, theirs is the only voice in the air. A refrain emerges, about things lost and dropped and slipping; the need for recovery, repair.
The second day, we discuss what we will do together. It is open ended. Voices overlap, and often it is hard to identify the connections between each thing being said. Words are put forward and agreed upon as prompts, that tangentially relate to the declarations of the day before. The last to be chosen is not one but two, seeing clearly. The outcome of the week is uncertain.
The third day, we have to make a decision. We are left to our own devices, and when we come together again we are asked what we are going to do. Each person in turn declares their desires, troubles and commitments. There are misunderstandings. Following some negotiation, we agree on a framework to narrow the uncertainty.
The fourth day, I find a book in the library, The Curve of Forgotten Things. Two voices talk over and across one another on the page. The strain between simultaneous narratives is amnesic - the neutralising effect of opposing forces.
The fifth day, I look up the various uses and definitions of declaration: a statement, emphatic and explicit, evidential, public, a formal expression agreed to by vote.
The sixth day, we are focussed. We assign roles and tasks, we still don’t know what we are doing, but we are doing it still.
declaration (draft 2)
i have trouble listening to multiple voices at once
at the residency, dig and declare, i become interested in this idea, declaration
making clear, explicit, clarified
we are a group of seven, and at points across the week there are moments when our voices clatter and combine, and those when only one holds space in the air
as an organisation we were a single entity, with internal dispute, at times, but ultimately, constitutionally, of singular intention
here, we are asked to reform, to feel out and declare our individual desires
but still to negotiate a single outcome
make a unified statement
this is what i am doing
this is what i am doing
this is what i am doing
this is what we are doing
one evening i find a book, i thought it was about forgetting, but it was in fact about voice
about conventions of the voice, about hospitality, about making clear that you mean no harm
about a place where, upon arrival in another’s home, you are to talk over one another all at once, rapidly, ceremonially, fitfully, without pause or intermission, baring yourself, making clear your intentions through a collision of sounds
heterophony - a type of texture characterized by the simultaneous variation of a single melodic line
one evening, at dinner, we hum likes bees around the table, each voice searching for a different note or tone, but wavering and melding through and across the registers
in the morning, before coffee, we are silent
a rooster wakes us throughout the night
in our discussions there are miscommunications, tensions, clamours
clarifications, apologies, pause -
tongues are held and slip, in the pull to have understood each distinct feeling and intention
walls of sound like waves, overcome the body
in the studio, voices echo off the high white walls. we make an effort to speak clearly
in the end we make something. we each make many things. the wall becomes full with samples, sketches, scans; a cacophony, discordant were it not born from the same material, place, time and need
a texture of simultaneous individual performances
we hereby declare
declaration (draft 3)
i have trouble listening to multiple voices at once
walls of sound, like waves, overcome my body
the strain between simultaneous narratives is amnesic -
carries the neutralising effect of opposing forces
at the residency, dig and declare, i become interested in this idea, declaration
making clear, explicit, clarifying
we are a group of seven, and at points across the week there are moments when our voices clatter and combine, and those when only one holds space in the air
as an organisation we were a single entity,
with internal dispute, at times, but ultimately - constitutionally - we were of singular intention
here, we are asked to reform, to feel out and assert our individual desires
but still to negotiate a single outcome
to make a unified statement
this is what i am doing
this is what i am doing
this is what i am doing
this is what we are doing
in our discussions towards this, tongues are held, and slip, often,
in the pull to understand each other
and the push to each be understood
there are miscommunications, tensions, a clamouring for air
we clarify, apologise, pause -
one evening, at dinner, we hum together like bees around the table, each voice searching for a different note or tone, but wavering and melding through and across registers
outside, bees hum in the dark
another evening, searching for texts on forgetting, i come across a book about voice
about conventions and performances of the voice,
about hospitality, and making clear that you mean no harm;
about a place where, when greeted in another’s home, it is custom for guest and host to talk over one another, all at once
rapidly, ceremonially, fitfully, without pause or intermission
baring yourself
disclosing your intentions through a collision of sounds
heterophony - a type of texture characterised by the simultaneous variation of a single melodic line
in the morning, before coffee, we are silent
a rooster wakes us throughout the night
in the studio, voices shimmer and echo off the high white walls,
and we make an effort to speak clearly
on the last day, the air is thick with purpose
the wall full with samples, sketches, scans
a cacophony, but not discordant, born from the same material, place, time and need
a texture of simultaneous individual performances
and somewhere within it, we hereby declare
declaration (draft 4)
I have trouble listening to multiple voices at once. Walls of sound, like waves, overcome my body. The strain between simultaneous narratives is amnesic; carries the neutralising effect of opposing forces.
At the residency, Dig and Declare, I became interested in this idea, declaration: making clear, explicit, clarifying. We are a group of seven, and at points across the week there are moments when our voices clatter and combine, and those when only one holds space in the air.
As an organisation we were a single entity, with internal dispute, at times, but ultimately - constitutionally - we were of singular intention. Here, we are asked to reform, to feel out and assert our individual desires, but still to negotiate a single outcome; to make a unified statement.
This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what we are doing.
In our discussions towards this, tongues are held, and slip, often, in the pull to understand each other, and the push to each be understood. There are miscommunications, tensions, a clamouring for air. We clarify, apologise, pause -
One evening, at dinner, we hum together like bees around the table, each voice searching for a different note or tone, but wavering and melding through and across registers. Outside, bees hum in the dark.
Another evening, searching for texts on forgetting, i come across a book about voice, about conventions and performances of the voice; about hospitality, and making clear that you mean no harm; about a place where, when greeted in another’s home, it is custom for guest and host to talk over one another, all at once - rapidly, ceremonially, fitfully, without pause or intermission, baring yourself, disclosing your intentions through a collision of sounds.
Heterophony - a type of texture characterised by the simultaneous variation of a single melodic line.
In the morning, before coffee, we are silent. In the studio, voices shimmer and echo off the high white walls. We make an effort to speak clearly. A rooster wakes us throughout the night.
On the last day, the air is thick with purpose, the wall full with samples, sketches, scans - a cacophony, but not discordant, born from the same material, place, time and need; a texture of simultaneous individual performances. And somewhere within it, a refrain. We hereby declare.
declaration (draft 5)
I have trouble listening to multiple voices at once - walls of sound that hit like waves, thick and overwhelming. The strain between simultaneous narratives is amnesic; carries the neutralising effect of opposing forces.
At the residency, Dig and Declare, I become interested in this idea, a declaration: an assertion, making clear, explicit, clarifying. We are a group of seven, and at points across the week there are moments when our voices clatter and combine, and those when only one holds space in the air.
As an organisation we were a single entity, with internal dispute, at times, but ultimately - constitutionally - we were of singular intention. Here, we are asked to reform, to feel out and assert our individual desires, but to negotiate still a single outcome; to make a unified statement.
This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what we are doing.
We are tasked with devising a framework, a point from which to begin our excavations. It must be agreed upon, must suit all our needs, excite our thoughts, and regulate our particular and bruising anxieties. In our discussions towards this, tongues are held and slip, often - in the pull to understand each other, and the push to each be understood. There are miscommunications, tensions, a clamouring for air. We clarify, apologise, pause -
In the morning, before coffee, we are silent. Up in the studio, voices shimmer and echo off the high white walls. A rooster wakes us throughout the night.
One evening, at dinner, we hum together like bees around the table, each voice searching for a different note or tone, but wavering and melding through and across registers. Outside, bees hum in the dark.
A different evening, making time to be alone, I come across a book about voice, about conventions and performances of the voice; about hospitality, and making clear that you mean no harm; about a place where, when greeted in another’s home, it is custom for guest and host to talk over one another, all at once - rapidly, ceremonially, fitfully, without pause or intermission, baring yourself; disclosing your intentions through a collision of sound.
Heterophony - a type of texture characterised by the simultaneous variation of a single melodic line.
Throughout the week, time is made for listening, for the careful and incisive listening of peers, mentors, friends, and selves.
On the last day, the air is thick with purpose, the wall full with samples, sketches, scans - a cacophony, but not discordant, born from the same material, place, time and need; a texture of simultaneous individual performances. And somewhere within it, a refrain. We hereby declare.
declaration (draft 6)
I have trouble listening to multiple voices at once. Walls of sound hit like waves, heavy and bewildering. The strain between simultaneous narratives is amnesic; meaning scrambled through the neutralising effect of opposing forces.
At the residency, Dig and Declare, I become interested in this idea, a declaration: an assertion, making clear, explicit, clarifying. We are a group of seven, and at points across the week there are moments when our voices clatter and combine, and those when only one holds space in the air.
As an organisation we were a single entity, with internal dispute, at times, but ultimately - constitutionally - we were of singular intention. Here, we are asked to reform, to feel out and assert our individual desires, but to negotiate still a single outcome; to make a unified statement.
This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what we are doing.
We are tasked with devising a framework, a point from which to begin our excavations. It must be agreed upon, must suit all our needs, excite our thoughts, and regulate our particular and bruising anxieties. In our discussions towards this, tongues are held and slip, often - in the pull to understand each other, and the push to each be understood. There are miscommunications, tensions, a clamouring for air. We clarify, apologise, pause -
In the morning, before coffee, we are silent. Up in the studio, voices shimmer and echo off the high white walls. A rooster wakes us throughout the night.
One evening, at dinner, we hum together like bees around the table, each voice searching for a different note or tone, but wavering and melding through and across registers. Outside, bees hum in the dark.
A different evening, while making time to be alone, I come across a book about voice, about conventions and performances of the voice; about hospitality, and making clear that you mean no harm; about a place where, when greeted in another’s home, it is custom for guest and host to talk over one another, all at once - rapidly, ceremonially, fitfully, without pause or intermission, baring yourself; disclosing your intentions through a collision of sound.
Heterophony - a type of texture characterised by the simultaneous variation of a single melodic line.
Throughout the week, time is made for listening, for the careful and incisive listening of peers, mentors, friends, and selves.
On the last day, the air is thick with purpose, the wall full with samples, sketches, scans - a cacophony, but not discordant, born from the same material, place, time and need; a texture of simultaneous individual performances. And somewhere within it, a refrain. We hereby declare.
declaration (draft 7)
I have trouble listening to multiple voices at once. Walls of sound hit like waves, heavy, bewildering. The strain between simultaneous narratives is amnesic—meaning scrambled through the neutralising effect of opposing forces.
At the residency, Dig and Declare, I become interested in this idea, a declaration: an assertion, making clear, explicit, clarifying. We are a group of seven, and at points across the week there are moments when our voices clatter and combine. There are others when only one holds space in the air.
As an organisation we were a single entity, with internal dispute, at times, but ultimately—constitutionally—we were of singular intention. Here, we are asked to reform, to feel out and assert our individual desires, but to negotiate still a single outcome; to produce a unified statement.
This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what we are doing.
We are tasked with devising a framework, a point from which to begin our excavations. It must be agreed upon, must suit all our needs, excite our thoughts, and regulate our particular and bruising anxieties. In our discussions towards this, tongues are held and slip, often—in the pull to understand each other, and the push to each be understood. There are miscommunications, tensions, a clamouring for air. We clarify, apologise, pause—
In the morning, before coffee, we are silent. Up in the studio, voices shimmer and echo off the high white walls. A rooster wakes us throughout the night.
One evening, at dinner, we hum together like bees around the table, each voice searching for a different note or tone, but wavering and melding through and across registers. Outside, bees hum in the dark.
A different evening, while making time to be alone, I come across a book about voice, about conventions and performances of the voice; about hospitality, and making clear that you mean no harm; about a place where, when greeted in another’s home, it is custom for guest and host to talk over one another, all at once—rapidly, ceremonially, fitfully, without pause or intermission; baring yourself; disclosing your intentions through a collision of sound.
Heterophony: a type of texture characterised by the simultaneous variation of a single melodic line.
Throughout the week, time is made for listening, for the careful and incisive listening of peers, mentors, friends, and selves.
On the last day, the air is thick with purpose, the wall full with samples, sketches, scans - a cacophony, but not discordant, born from the same material, place, time and need; a texture of simultaneous individual performances. And somewhere within it, a refrain. We hereby declare.
declaration (draft 8)
I have trouble listening to multiple voices at once. Walls of sound hit like waves, heavy and bewildering. The strain between simultaneous narratives is amnesic—meaning scrambled as in the neutralising effect of opposing forces.
At the residency, Dig and Declare, I become interested in this idea, a declaration: an assertion, making clear, explicit, clarifying. We are a group of seven, and at points across the week there are moments when our voices clatter and combine. There are others when only one holds space in the air.
As an organisation we were a single entity, with internal dispute, at times, but ultimately—constitutionally—we were of singular intention. Here, we are asked to reform, to feel out and assert our individual desires, but to negotiate still a single outcome; to produce a unified statement.
This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what I am doing. This is what we are doing.
We are tasked with devising a framework, a point from which to begin our excavations. It must be agreed upon, must suit all our needs, excite our thoughts, and regulate our particular and bruising anxieties. In our discussions towards this, tongues are held and slip, often—in the pull to understand each other, and the push to each be understood. There are miscommunications, tensions, a clamouring for air. We clarify, apologise, pause—
In the morning, before coffee, we are silent. Up in the studio, voices shimmer and echo off the high white walls. A rooster wakes us throughout the night.
One evening, at dinner, we hum together like bees around the table, each voice searching for a different note or tone, but wavering and melding through and across registers. Outside, bees hum in the dark.
A different evening, while making time to be alone, I come across a book about voice, about conventions and performances of the voice; about hospitality, and making clear that you mean no harm; about a place where, when greeted in another’s home, it is custom for guest and host to talk over one another, all at once—rapidly, ceremonially, fitfully, without pause or intermission; baring yourself; disclosing your intentions through a collision of sound.
Heterophony: a type of texture characterised by the simultaneous variation of a single melodic line.
Throughout the week, time is made for listening, for the careful and incisive listening of peers, mentors, friends, and selves.
On the last day, the air is thick with purpose, the wall full with samples, sketches, scans - a cacophony, but not discordant, born from the same material, place, time and need; a texture of simultaneous individual performances. And somewhere within it, a refrain. We hereby declare.