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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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