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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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