TSI

There are so many ways to be in relationship with sound and within sound right? For me, as you were saying, the interesting aspects of improvisation are really in terms of the free forms and possibilities of improvisation, or different improvisatory rituals of coming together, of emerging together. It is that aspect of collectivity that I think it’s really what I like, and it’s part of sound somehow, it is one of the main aspects of sound that I’m passionate about, and what interests me is the capacity or the characteristic of being immediate, of being something that contains but is also part of that experience, it is something that it’s not within a distance, right? In opposition with the visual perspective, let’s say. And I think in that sense, what sound really does, is creating some sort of mesh. We’re all bodies in resonance with everything that is with us, everything that is matter resonates and vibrates. We are in that connection with every material body. All these bodies are within these connections with a sonic body. And I think what is super interesting in improvisation is that it gives a framework that we can apply outside of music, one that we can explore in many ways. We have a lot to learn from improvisation. And what really interests me in that aspect is the collective emergence of the group, when improvising together. But the interesting part for me is that this collective emergence only happens and can happen when everybody’s listening to each other. So we emerge because we’re listening. And so we need that, you know, that solid necessity of listening to each other, of paying attention to the cues and then doing this… this choreography of call and response. It’s so essential to listen to each other in terms of emerging collectively as a group, I think.

Yeah, I guess it’s communication in the end, right? And that’s what’s so interesting and it’s so important for… for everything, not only human, right? And in that sense, it sets a lot of the lines of how do we connect with each other? How do we interact? How are we in connection? Are we in interaction? And if not, how can we also heal, reconnect and build up these bridges that we need so urgently at this moment? You know, to reconnect with others beyond our inner bubble. And I think in that sense, it’s super interesting to understand chaos. You know, we are all these signals, in all these voices and sounds that are in resonance. They are just overflowing and loading this world of signals and noise. I think that’s sort of related to this idea of chaos. How do we also by listening, by exploring different ways of listening, maybe not only through our ears? For example listening with our bodies to different aspects and sensitizing to different registers of listening we can access signals in different scales. I think that’s fascinating, which is not only a tool, but a strategy that sound teaches us somehow. So how do you see chaos? Do you see it more as a randomized thing, is this idea of noise and signal making sense to you? How would you approach that?

I love that, in those possibilities as you say in this chaos, it’s this network with a multiplicity of voices. I love what you were saying about that aspect of connectivity so everything is enmeshed in the scales, right? And then we can identify certain signals, certain patterns maybe. I remember… I was having a conversation once with a friend, and you know, she’s really good with words, like these people that create their own words and they really understand the etymology, which is fascinating to navigate the world. Also inventing words so you’d reinterpret or appropriate them to find new meanings, expand language. Anyways, she mentioned at some point the word and the concept I like to think with: “withnessing”. So not witnessing, you know, you put an “h” in between and it totally changes the relational aspects of the action…we are “withnessing” in togetherness, we are never really alone, detached, disconnected, and in independence somehow. And I thought that there’s something really beautiful about that idea of asking how do we “witness”? I think a lot about that. It has a very implied thing about visuality to witness something. But I think for me sound is a medium for “withnessing”.

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It seems that one doesn’t get far when trying to define the differences of sound versus tone and, hence, sound art versus music from the acoustic point of view.

Yesterday I checked the etymology of “sound”, “noise”, and “tone” in the OED, and “Klang”, “Krach”, and “Ton” in the German etymological dictionary Kluge. All those words are onomatopoetic, that is, they just imitate the acoustic stimulus. The only interesting thing, which I know from translating from English to German, is, that “Geräusch” in German is somewhat of a superordinate notion which doesn’t really exist in English. But, then, “Geräusch” too comes from “rauschen” meaning “rustle” or “swoosh” and thus is onomatopoetic as well.

I conclude that one reason for the fruitlessness of philosophizing about sound and music is, that those words are pre-pre-philosophical, really archaic in character.

This is why I try to sidestep this problem by searching for the “elementary event” in acoustic experience not by mapping these words onto, admittedly objective, acoustic wave forms but rather in the realm of the psychology of affect. Unfortunately this, again, is no “science” yet, but grapples with philosophical problems of defining what an affective experience is. What is a mood?

My working hypothesis: A mood (emotion being just more specific but roughly the same) is a very general concept by which a great many if not all things that we currently register are “shaded”. A flat example (sorry, guys!): When I am sad I experience each and every “thing” (also inner “things”) and each and every relation between those “things” with a sad aspect. “They don’t laugh at me”, so to speak.

Hm.

This morning, when I was plucking around on my guitar, I had the following idea. The mood that I put me in or, rather, reinforce by finding this or that chord progression, is specific. Of course, I don’t really know exactly what I am saying, when I say „specific“. But there’s something homely in it, something I recognize and which triggers quite expectable thoughts and „images“.

I don’t think it’s useful to try to define what music is and what not, because inevitably you’ll land somewhere scholastic or, worse, tribal. Music seems to structure moods, so any sequence of acoustic events will be music, if you want to. It seems to me that the difference between tonal and sound music lies in the definiteness of those mood structures.

Sure, I replaced one vague notion with another. And yet the new one seems nearer to my heart and, therefore, I have higher hopes of deciphering it.

(from the public conversation:)

Thomas:

Does sound fill the void of non- or other-sound? As a usually lonely hobby musician I see that, obviously, professional musicians often talk about experiences when improvising music with other people. I for my part know quite well how to improvise conversations, say, at a party when people sit around a big table. There sometimes a problem emerges which may (or may not) be seen as a problem of power and hierarchy. The one who is talking more than the others – who takes up more time, so to speak, in my case because I cannot stand the horror vacui very well – is sometimes accused of overpowering the others. I for my part have always brushed away this question because, as a true democrat, I tend to believe that we are all at the same level and. Hence, if somebody wants me to stop talking s/he can say so without embarrassing me at all. Alas, I fear that it’s not that simple! Do I have the obligation to be attentive to the shyer persons at the table? Isn’t it true that they may be shyer fort he very reason of being intimidated by fast-talking persons like me? But at the same time I cannot talk well when my attention is infringed by social alertness. And am I responsible for possible traumata of others?

My question as a non-pro musician would be whether it feels similar when you’re improvising together? Doesn’t this question of hierarchy also pop up? Or is it okay if, for instance, the drummer is not in the mood of playing that he isn’t playing a single stroke? I can’t really imagine that power relations don’t play any role. Bebop, for example, sometimes feels like sport – who’s blowing, who is playing better, faster, stranger, deeper? And it’s not only about musical skill but charisma …

Ipek:

The latter might not always mean that the one talking a lot necessarily has all the power. Sometimes we just forget about silence because we are focusing too much on sound, whereas sound is a part of silence, and the silent is usually the one who provides the space for sound to exist. So for that reason we sometimes hear a lot of things not expressing anything, while silence may speak volumes. I think that may apply to musical improvisation as well. Sometimes you are just the one following the flow of improvisation and not leading it. That doesn’t necessarily mean that you are in a less dominant position. Actually, it might be just the opposite! You are providing the necessary space for the possibilities of the person playing the seemingly leading part. Without that space s/he wouldn’t be able to lead! And, of course, these roles are interchangeable as well. You can always switch!