3.30am - all alone in a strange place, just the way I like it.

I had just carried another four bags in to join the previous three.  Everything had changed for the worse, so it took me 8 hours to get to this point.  It should be getting easier each time but it's really really not.

Large deserted buildings make a surprising amount of noise and I knew no one else was in the place.  The ticking sound is water dripping through the ceiling.  Getting there.

 
 
Ain't solar power great?  If a bit cruel.

Legacy 10 preparation.  Getting there - I'm hoping all the elements of Legacy will come together by the end of May.

 
 
Rheingold, Scene II.  An open space on the mountaintops.
FRICKA:
Wotan, Gemahl, erwache!

WOTAN:
(forträumend)

Der Wonne seligen Saal
bewachen mir Tür und Tor:
Mannes Ehre,
ewige Macht,
ragen zu endlosem Ruhm!
FRICKA:
Wotan, husband, awake!

WOTAN:
(still dreaming)

Gate and door guard
the sacred hall of my joy:
man's honour,
eternal might
extend to endless fame!

 
Music by Wolfgang Sawallisch and Bavarian State Opera, 1991 on EMI. 
Buy it from the great Harold Moore's Records: hmrecords.co.uk/

 
 
Preparation for my next project.

Carrying a 70 litre bag of J Arthur Bower's Multipurpose Compost up to a high floor of an abandoned building. This is the final stage of a complicated 3 hour journey carrying 3 bags.
 
 
It's not really a pig - I'm guessing it's the size of a nudibranch, but it might be much larger.  I stumbled across it while reading up on the continuing discoveries being made of life in deep sea hydrothermal vents.  From where we find this rather interesting animal, slightly less attractive but still worth gazing at in awe - it might take a bit of an effort but go on, give it a go - as it appears to have no digestive tract and lives on carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulphide, rather different to all the rest of us oxygen guzzlers.  And does this 2000m underwater in one of the most inhospitable places on Earth, where sulphur vents superheat the water to 400ºc with a surrounding ambient temperature of 1ºc.  Who says there couldn't be life on other planets?

I have a bigger post a-comin' (edit - got sidetracked so not yet) but this caught my eye, and imagination.

Happy New Year.  May we all dance, slowly.

 
 
Click here to go to the page which explains more fully what I'm doing this coming weekend at Langham Dome.  And what Langham Dome actually is.
 
 
I am delighted to present the film of Hymn To The Manhattan Bridge.

On June 21st 2011, I played a theremin under the Manhattan Bridge for 24 hours, starting and ending at midnight.  Sensors on the bridge above me registered the passing of each cyclist, creating a moment of silence for everyone who cycled over the bridge that day.  This film is a record of that day.

I have been looking at photos of DUMBO, this area of Brooklyn, preparing for the approaching hurricane Irene.  I am struck how different it all felt when I was there, only a few weeks ago.
 
 
I thought I was going to do a quick retrospective of Hymn To The Manhattan Bridge, but I haven't - mainly because it took me quite a bit longer than I'd expected to get back to normal after the excellent but exhausting New York experience.  And then other things came along that had to be dealt with first.  However... the good news is that one of those things has been the film of Hymn To The Manhattan Bridge; it's finished and ready for public perusal.  It's a big file that's uploading now, so once that's happened I'll put it up here, most likely tomorrow.

In the meantime, here is a short my-eye experience taken during my 24 hours playing music within the Archway under the Manhattan Bridge.  

The road digger had an air horn alert thing that killed all sound around it - it was quite painful to walk near it.  Someone said it was my nemesis - how can you make slowly developing textural music with that racket going on? - but it really captured something of the manic buzz of the area for me - the trains, the trucks, the roadworks.  Here's a little two-part film - the digger doing its skraaark! thing, then my theremin-created musical response.

This phone camera video is in no way a taster for the full film.
 
 
There was a storm today.  Torrential, people hiding under shop cowlings.
 
 
Picture
I'm delighted to announce that on Tuesday 21st June 2011 I will be playing the theremin under the Manhattan Bridge, in a 24 hour collaboration with the cyclists and pedestrians who cross the bridge on the longest day of the year.  Or in other words - I'm at it again.

This is part of Make Music New York, the annual festival that will see over 1000 free musical events take place throughout the city on June 21st, the longest day of the year, and I'm very pleased that they've invited me to be part of it.  I'll be writing up something a bit more in depth over the next day or two, and sorting out the live-streaming page too - yes, once again I'll be streaming all 24 hours of the audio live on t'internet.  And tweeting and everything.

I've just arrived in New York and made my first recce to the site.  I'd done plenty of work in advance so I was able to walk to it and around it without ever resorting to a map - there are so many online resources now (Google street view, Youtube, Flickr and so on) that you can do a pretty comprehensive recce without ever getting close to the place.  But they can't tell you what it actually feels like in the flesh.  What immediately struck me was the sheer scale of the bridge, and the vibrancy it was generating while I was there.  It feels so bigger than I was expecting, and was positively buzzing with life when I walked around it (11pm) which could pose a few interesting problems - as the trains go over the noise is incredible, bouncing off the local buildings so violently you can almost see the sound waves, so making subtle ambient music is going to be a challenge.  And the bridge really is bloody enormous - despite all my meticulous planning I did wonder if I'd brought long enough cables.  Look how far it is from the cycleway to the street level in the pictures below - I know it's about 100ft but it feels much more.

Here are some photos and videos I took.  The green glow shows The Archway, where I'm going set up, and the next one shows where I'm going to mount the sensors on the cycleway 100ft up.