136: How do you think I began in the world (part one and interlude)

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The piece centers on the repetitive nature of daily life, and even when the world is fragmented, seemingly destroyed, there is hope that it can be repaired, and restored. Based on “The Sow took the Measles” a folk song from colonial New England. The original verse tells of Yankee practical idealism, of making good out of a bad situation.

Featuring field recordings, synthesized instruments, and digital signal manipulation.

This is part one and an interlude of an album of the same name. Please visit my bandcamp page to purchase the entire album.

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135: Small Things

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As the world slides sideways, episode 135 of the podcast focuses on a collage of closeup and foley recordings, with occasional accompaniment by computer synthesized contrabass and tuba. The recordings include: opening a can of seltzer, pouring water, semi-rhythmic rubbing and tapping glass and cardboard, opening kitchen cabinet doors, futzing with a tape measure and cordless drill.

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134: What would be a better place

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In an experiment on the Moon, Apollo 15 Commander David Scott, dropped a geological hammer and a falcon feather simultaneously*. I can’t imagine Galileo ever considered that his thought experiment would be realized, or maybe that’s what he was thinking about in the fall of 1609 when was looking at the moon through his telescope and created, in watercolor, the first realistic depictions of the moon in human history*.

Episode 134 of the podcast features recordings from the moon (Apollo/NASA), recordings from earth (boat ride, coffee shop, and driving on a highway), sounds made on my computer (a Roland TR-606 drum machine emulation, and a computer assisted composition: flute, clarinet, and piano).

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133: What Became

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A low rumble. A repetitive flute and then piano — moving slowly up and down, finding a path in through the dark night — the two play at the same time, not really together. A strumming rises and falls on the left. The tune is never playful, never mournful, not quit even, looking for its way. A held note, hoping to be propelled forward. Are those voices, is it a crowd? The harmonic shift keeps it from resolving. The nervous energy, the pace quickens, but somehow a moment of calm within the noise. The piano returns, still going up and down, spinning it’s wheels, changing keys, but not finding a way. Its ‘friend’ the flute returns as well…. No hope to find its way, the struggle is heard.

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