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A starting point for
production: avoid monitoring
Focus on the space’s margins (which no longer serve
their original purpose), their resonance.
Spectrality as lubrication,
articulation of mediums, producing new meanings and exploring
potential new sets of relations.
A space of discovery (without
being discovered) :meaning fluctuates with new
encounters.
Secrecy as a mode of production:
Vault
Secrecy is linked to a certain intimacy, which
highlights the uniqueness of the moment. This moment uncovers
the potentiality of what is usually not seen through small
gestures or decision making. Because of its uncertainty this
moment of secrecy is taken here as a mode of production.
Uncertainty exposes the fragility of established modes of
production. This particular moment makes prominent the idea of
what is socially peripheral may be symbolically central. I would
like to show how this process became possible using the example
of my encounter with the safety-box.
When I saw the dis-used safety-box in the former bank building
it took me straight to an understanding of its fragility. This
fragility was articulated primarily in its acoustic resonance,
which one immediately notices within the space.
By coping with improvised textural sounds we find a moment of
confrontation with this fragility.
Improvisation is a tool for the discovery of new ways of
communicating at the cracks of the unexposed.
Amplified textures differently configure time and space,
altering their constitution by the virtue of the vault’s
resonance.This resonance is like an intermezzo which produces a
certain meaning which can only be discovered in this gesture.
Because of the secrecy the whole environment receives a new
meaning in this intermezzo, which emerges from surroundings. The
surroundings get exposed through the gestures of improvised
sounds that we deliver in intimacy. Intimacy makes it possible
for us to grasp the meaning. The surroundings, margins also
bring to the centre a very crucial moment, which is absent in
the central object itself, the safety-box. We use sound as a
different mode of translation for this interaction between the
central and the peripheral.This interaction happened by means of
not ignoring the environment that surrounds the safety-box. What
surrounds the safety-box, i.e. the rusty surface and the
acoustic particularity of it, which might be called " left-over"
or excess. These "left-overs" are re-sited within the resonance
which is described above and below (see Time Lock). The
rustiness reveals the object’s previous use by swerving away
from the straight-looking. This obsessed manner of looking
disrupts previous meaning and creates an interactivity based on
interruptions within the space, the object and the subject.
However this process of interruption of meaning and secrecy
leads itself to non-secrecy
.
Text by Mattin & Zeigam Azizov
TIME LOCK
A bank re/de/generated as ‘performance space’:
sound-shocks trapped in its lowest vault burst boundaries of
hearing, saturate witnesses’ pinioned flesh. The vault-locked
sound-event arrives at an inaccesibility no bullion-heap could
ever have aspired to. Vibrations flung against four metal
walls go nowhere except (in vengeful fury) back to the porous
bodies triggering them. Slow dissolution. Matter broken down
to memory. But resistance to the siege engines of authentic
insight (documentation/biopsy) is more than a matter of
armoured privacy. An event’s singularity, its material
strangeness, may be shielded most securely in solemn parody of
its full disclosure. The physical force of the noise in the
vault was wholly absorbed by the bodies enclosed with it;
afterwards the idle curiosity of surveillance is absorbed by
the sound’s incorporeal double, its drained, corrupted
‘reproduction’ as digital code.
Renounce ‘realistic’ sound completely. Withstand the temptation
to get carried away, to believe you might almost have been
there. Listen to the CD on the ‘worst’, cheapest equipment you
can find, any machine that habitually eliminates bass
frequencies. Notice that for once the seismic plane doesn’t
disappear, it lingers as an enervated facsimile of itself. An
echo clung to,
not an image captured.
Text by
Matthew Hyland
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