A Good Week

The world is so full of those of us who work in privacy and relative isolation that I honestly don't know - beyond a surmise - about how other people feel about encountering versions of their own work in the wider world. In my case, I hardly ever encounter it, so this was an interesting week for me - it happened not once, but twice, and it was pretty nice both times.

Back in the days when J. was in grad school in New York, John Schaefer's program on WNYC-fm New Sounds was a favorite late-night listen. I heard so much of music I have come to love and value on that show, and it was a great way to end a long day. And I was tickled to death back in the 1980s when John actually played some of my cassette-only releases.

So you can imagine that I was kind of happy on Monday I got a couple of notes from sharp-eyed friends bearing pretty wonderful news: some of my recent work was going to be featured on an episode of New Sounds! I'm not embarrassed to say that I cracked open a Grolsch, sat on the couch with J., and really enjoyed myself - not least because I was in the company of musicians whose work I really enjoyed. I hope that's not too vain. You can hear an archived edition of the program, should it strike your fancy.

The second of the week's pleasures all started with a problem: at the end of the 2005 AES conference in New York, my flight was cancelled, leaving me with a good bit of a day and nothing much to do. My friend Luke Dubois, whose radar for the wonderful is finely calibrated, suggested I might enjoy an exhibition entitled Obsessive Drawing at the American Museum of Folk Art. The work
really impressed me - in particular, the work of New Zealander John Thompson. So I meditated on the work, and a week or so later started on a Jitter patch which would do something similar to what I'd seen as a kind of homage. I posted an early version of the patch to the Cycling '74 Jitter forum, and also thought it'd be of some interest to Christy Matson an artist I'd originally met when she attended a Max/MSP day/night school that I'd assisted with several years ago. Christy wrote back to ask if she might use my patch to create some objects, and - of course - I said yes. And waited to see what would happen.

It was worth the wait. Yesterday, J. and I piled into the car for a whirlwind trip to the Hyde Park Art Center to see what she'd done with the Jitter patch as raw material before the exhibition closed the next day.

The things that Christy had made from the humble Jitter patch were really beautiful - these elegant and rich black pieces shot through with the gleam of metal when struck at just the right angle by the light [they're tough to photograph, as what I've included here might suggest].

Several of the large works are actually interactive audio pieces - touching them allows you to interact with work from her collaborator in this project Mark Gallay.

Since there was another exhibition that involved a sequence of loud bands playing in a performance space next door, the audio was turned off. So the interaction portion is left for next time. There is a sample of the work here, though.

Between sitting quietly with J. and hearing my work on a program that was really central to forming my own sensibilities and seeing an idea of mine transformed into a beautiful bunch of objects by Christy, it was a good week.

Missing but not Inaction

Wow. It's been a while - I have to keep reminding myself that I should try to overcome my usual view that my life isn't that interesting to total strangers and just get on with trying to construct a narrative that doesn't involve various manifestations of hysterical misery.

My new solo release Amalgam: Aluminum / Hydrogen is available on the Palace of Lights label. You can find out more about it and listen to a sample by clicking here.

In less object-oriented terms, 've been doing some performing here and there - most recently as one-half of The Desert Fathers, a duo with trumpeter Jeff Kaiser. Our inaugural appearance before actual humans was a part of the second annual Boise Experimental Music Festival.

You can see some pictures of our performance here. It was a great time, and my personal thanks to Krispen Hartung for his hard work and hospitality. You'll probably be hearing from The Desert Fathers in the form of some acoustic Icons, at some point.

The "two laptops and a mandolin" trio it's been my pleasure to tread the boards with has christened itself pendergartontaylor (or just PGT for short, inna prog stylee) and continues to make the joyful noise and generally thrive. Most recently, my pal Brad Garton's 50th birthday neatly lined up with his hosting an evening of the Roosevelt Arts Project in the Borough Hall of the amazing community he lives in, Roosevelt, New Jersey. We did two pieces for the evening's program, and you can listen to the first of them by clicking here.

It looks like the next PGT outing will be a brief performance at the 2007 NIME (New Instruments for Musical Expression) Conference in NYC. I'm looking forward to it.

Apart from that, it's been business as usual - staring slack-jawed with awe and wonder at the BBC documentary series Planet Earth, taking some pleasure in traversing the list of people Clive James thinks we shouldn't forget (there are some excerpts published here, in case you're curious), and enjoying some recent musical offerings from Arve Henriksen, Jim O'Rourke (realizing a graphic Takemitsu score, no less), Menomena, Hal Rammel, and David Torn (among others).

Oh yeah - I managed a quick trip to the Netherlands to do a workshop in Delft.

Well, okay - I guess it has been a gay, mad whirl.

Embarrassing admissions about luxury items

I am normally given to enjoying and admiring those small and perfect things that the world presents to us free of charge or those things which are the gifts of attention. While I'm sure that insanely expensive hotel room on the shores of Lake Locarno is very nice, this cup of coffee has its charms, too.

Having said that, It gives me some vaguely guilty pleasure to type the following phrase:

prescription varilux bifocal Oakley sunglasses

There. I've done it. Move along, nothing to see here.

Spark trio performance now online

It's taken me a few days to get around to getting it up, but an MP3 version of the trio performance with my pals Brad Garton and Terry Pender at the 2007 Spark Festival is now online and available on my new and expanded MP3 downloads page.

Part 1 (15:25)
Part 2 (12:39)

Reasons for a lack of stardom...

...a lack of talent? Possibly, but that's not what I wanted to say.

I am in the process of working on some new material and patchery, and I have realized what one of my problems is; I spend too much time listening to things in their raw state. This week, it's been revisiting and enjoying the pleasures of Nathan Wolek's granular toolkit for MSP, reminding myself that the whole granular thing may well appear to be "overused" because people only opt for a tiny subset of what's possible [as Marcel Wierckx' work suggests, which was always my view of FM synthesis in earlier times]. To that end, I'mve been taking materials I'm really familiar with and rather exhaustively tweaking parameters very slowly in various combinations, and spending a good amount of time living inside/alongside the results. For hours and days.

I expect that by the time I think I've got it figured out, some part of me thinks that no one else will be interested; my inner midwesterner shows up, pronounces the results "nothin' special," and moves on. This "slow preparation, fast execution" stuff is tricky.

How I missed on-air fundraising

Owing to the spectacular snowstorm this past weekend, I was effectively trapped in Minneapolis. I am extremely grateful to Dave Pederson for filling in for me.

Things were fine when I drove up earlier in the week to participate in the annual Spark Festival of Electronic Music and Art, where I was going to perform with both of the live ensembles I'm currently working with - a trio with Tom Hamer on percussion and Mark Henrickson on visuals, and another trio [for this occasion, a quartet - hooray!] with Terry Pender on mandolin, Brad Garton on laptop and Luke Dubois on visuals. The quartet with Brad and Terry and Luke went swimmingly, and we even managed that particularly miraculous situation of being able to turn the bed in Brad and Terry's room into a recording studio for some sessions while Terry was in town.

Things got a bit interesting later in the week. Due to circumstances beyond their control, neither Mark nor Tom was able to make it to Minneapolis, which meant an impromptu solo set. Luke Dubois came to my aid and provided some visuals which I believe went a long way toward distracting the audience in instructive ways, but all seemed to have gone well (note to self: a consequence of playing with great people is that you feel all the more exposed when you return to solo work). The Spark Festival is a great collection of stuff, full of very friendly people and interesting music, and very short on attitude. My thanks to Doug Geers and his crew, and to J.P. Hungelman and his band of merry clubsters.

Given the storm and all the unpleasantness between Minneapolis and Madison, there was no way I was going home on Sunday, which is why you turned on the radio and got Mr. Pedersen instead of me. I made a cautious dash home yesterday, and things are kind of back to normal, except for the shevelling. Next week on RTQE, it's back to business as usual, thanks to our listener sponsors.

How to ruin an-air fundraising(and save your evening)

Last night was the first of two weeks' worth of on-air fundraising for WORT-FM, when all good radio hosts talk a lot more than usual and wait for the phones to ring.

The normal and appropriate thing to do is to go with shorter pieces [for me, that means "less than 10 minutes," in case you're wondering] that are exciting and upbeat.

But that sort of bothers me. I'm quite well aware of being so generally unexciting, thanks - the Q stands for "Quiet," after all. But it's more the idea that the normal goal something that stops one in one's tracks. So I decided that I'd try to integrate this into my fundraising appeal... to play something that would bring things to a standstill by the force of its Ch'i/prana/integrity/whatever.

And I had just the thing: Susanna and the Magical Orchestra's 2006 all-covers release Melody Mountain on Rune Grammofon. Go buy the disk. No, really. Susanna Wallumrod [yes, she is related to that guy who drums on ECM discs] and Morten Qvenild from Jaga Jazzist, very minimal instrumentation, and a production job from Helge Sten that displays the Prince, Leonard Cohen, Joy Division, Kiss, and AC/DC covers like diamonds on inky black velvet.

I played her cover of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah," and it even fetched people from other parts of the building/phone answerers into the studio to ask, "What is this? It's exquisite...." And, in honor of a later pledger, I ran her take on "Love Will Tear Us Apart Again."

Upbeat and exciting? Well, maybe not. But music that is about what I think I try to do on an ordinary evening? Oh my, yes.