Contemplative Art Through the Finding of Things
As I recall this piece, I had started thinking about the moon, darkness, outer space, then decided to try a duet with a photo, then a stick from the ground.
This past week we heard a new sort of idea, though not exactly new, performed by Alicia Champlin playing a steel cello. Imagine that. It was fantastic!
I am quite happy all this, the longer tones, the bending of time is happening more often and in different ways. And this is the program we have, one that accommodates this kind of trajectory in art. Casual reading tells me that the human brain has been felt to be a random-thought generator. For a more formal paper I would have to cite references with great care, but the idea is that we have tens of thousands of random thoughts everyday yet that 70% can be assessed to be negative, if surveyed. The article promotes the need for meditation. It is hardly perfect to offer this as an unsupported fact, nevertheless what if it is basically true? Not many like the hurdy-gurdy’s sound exactly the way I think of it, but it will work out over time… (I think that was one of my random negative thoughts right there). The idea of color fields refers to a dissipation of content or a meditative sort of experience. Where an image (sonic or visual) provides for me a visual point of concentration, a singular gradient or boundless something away from “real worries” in both musical and visual form, I feel that sound joins to something– a shape, an idea, and so on.
In this next one, I played looking at my own photo of melting ice with its specular highlights: hg-in-f-maj
This chart below is from a long article on line that delves into what is called binaural beats. The parent site is called: bebrainfit. The idea is that the same effect that meditation has is also assessable via sound. Probably step one is liberate from the constraints of “music” per se. That is certainly where my work has been trying to find itself. I digress to say this but I imagine the idea in my mind that the work reveals itself to the artist, almost a sort of meditative kind of art direction, rather than the work simply being a product of the artist they way work is to someone with an ordinary day job. I had imagined that the subject or theme in my art would affect my brain as I made creative decisions. So with that in my mind, I have tried contemplating all sorts of peculiar objects from a feaf to a lightbulb, from dust to spiders, from light circles to an abandoned room. Oh and I could go on. The Stick, the cardboard box, hinges, a snowstorm, and there was that one piano heading for a landfill, or my messy piece about the artist who married a musician then have their first argument– all rendered as sound. Mostly though, it is this draw I feel towards clutter, the ground, and found objects. Art feels like random discovery to me, this, sort of this idea I guess of finding hidden secrets, or meditation, inside of mess.