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Nothing to do with radio actually but  here is the (pre-YBA, last gasp of the avant-garde era/golden age) exhibition Ed mentioned to Group C which was destroyed by enraged situationist agitators: https://chisenhale.org.uk/exhibition/ruins-of-glamour-glamour-of-ruins/#6584dd9ccad1d833d93ff284b4badfb7

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In 1982, Bill Fontana mounted a monumental outdoor sound installation called Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns that would near-impossible to realize today. Live audio feeds from eight foghorns around the San Francisco Bay were routed to a central listening arena on city's waterfront at Fort Mason. As a pioneer in the developing field of Sound Art, Fontana's fusion of sound and sculpture was virtually unheard of, much less on the region-encompassing scale that he was working with for Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns. A document of the installation was released as an LP by San Francisco radio station KQED, which has since become a sought-after collectors' item.

Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns is not only foundational in the history of Sound Art, but is a major work within Fontana's oeuvre, particularly his group of works he calls Sound Sculptures for Architectural Spaces. Similarly, he has gone on to make audio maps of trains in the East Bay, Berlin, and Lyon, the city of Venice, the London Millennium Bridge, and beyond. Fontana's unique geographic folding technique reveals acoustic details inaccessible to the naked ear and thus provides a perspective of place that few artists or even art forms are capable of.

Nearly 40 years after its initial release, Other Minds is issuing an expanded edition of Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns on CD for the first time. Along with the original audio, this edition will include Fontana's re-worked 2018 version as well as a concert version of the piece featuring Stuart Dempster (Deep Listening Band, Merce Cunningham Dance Company). Further, the CD includes a 24-page full color booklet containing Bill Fontana's original liner notes, a new essay by Jennifer Lucy Allan (Wire, Arc Light Editions) and a recent conversation between Bill Fontana, Stuart Dempster, and Charles Amirkhanian.

released December 4, 2020

1) Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns (Installation Version, 1981)

Originally released as an LP by KQED-FM in 1981.

2) Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns (Concert Version, 1981)

Originally aired on KPFA FM radio (Berkeley, CA) as a part of the 1981 New Music America Festival. This excerpt edited from the original two hour performance by Andrew Weathers.

Trombone, didjeridu, garden hose and conch shell played by Stuart Dempster.

3) Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns (Installation Version, 2018)

Executive Producer: Charles Amirkhanian
Producer: Andrew Weathers
Liner Notes: Jennifer Lucy Allan
Package Design: Mark Abramson
Mastering: Andrew Weathers

Photography and images by Bill Fontana
Photo of Bill Fontana by Alexandra Fontana

Music © 1981-2018, Bill Fontana, BMI

Other Minds Records OM 1028-2

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Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns, by Bill Fontana

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Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns by Bill Fontana, released 04 December 2020 1. Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns (Installation Version, 1981) 2. Bill Fontana, Stuart Dempster - Landscape Sculpture with Fog Horns (Concert Version, 1981) 3.

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A live collaborative radio art performance series, improvised around changing themes by a stellar line-up of sound and radio artists.

Series one has 15 editions featuring 16 players, a photographer and 2 special guests.

Produced by Mobile Radio with streaming support from π-node, CWCH collective shows were broadcast live on Thursdays from 21:00 - 22:00 CEST on Resonance Extra in Brighton, Bristol, Cambridge, London and Norwich on DAB, π-node in Mulhouse and Paris on DAB, WGXC and Wavefarm in the Upper Hudson Valley on FM and AM, Soundart Radio in Dartington on FM, and Radio Tsonami in Valparaiso online. There were subsequent rebroadcasts by Radio Ara in Luxembourg, JET FM in Nantes, Radio Panik in Brussels and Radio Orange in Vienna on FM.

Worker-artists convene a hive broadcast of indiscriminately gathered sound-pollen, transmitting codified messages to kindred folk. Each week a potent gang of sound artists are at play, exploring whatever is on their minds. Style guide: Anything goes

Most recent transmission (scroll down for full archive):

Edition 15 - Close-Flung (16th July 2020)

Knut Aufermann & Sarah Washington Ürzig, Xentos Fray Bentos Broughton, Frauke Berg Düsseldorf, Katharina Bihler & Stefan Scheib Saarbrücken, DinahBird Paris, dieb13 & Billy Roisz Vienna, Lloyd Dunn Prague, Anna Friz Santa Cruz, Ralf Schreiber Cologne, Rodrigo Ríos Zunino Valparaíso.
Live broadcast from Saarländisches Künstlerhaus in Saarbrücken.

The CWCH collective is a modern-day revival of an anarchic sound art event which Sarah put together above the Dragon Bar near Old Street in London around the year 2000. This featured an incredible line-up of pioneering sound artists who were mostly studying Sonic Arts at the University of Middlesex. Nowadays her compatriots in sound are spread far and wide, so she decided to bring a new group of these together online in an effort to re-establish the spirit of the original CWCH - a Welsh word meaning boat or hive (pronounced like the German kuch). Twenty years ago when she so named it, Sarah thought the word she was using was cwtch - meaning a heartfelt hug. That turned out to be an apposite misunderstanding, as this meaning inspired the desire to work virtually in 2020 due to a period of externally enforced personal distancing. Yet this time around the word 'hive' best describes the playing actions and mentality of the participants.

The way CWCH works in today's incarnation is that multiple livestreams are received from around the world at Mobile Radio's home studio in Ürzig (Germany) via π-node's server in France. Sarah combines these with her own and Knut's on-site sounds to tie everything together into a realtime composition, while simultaneously balancing the levels of all the incoming sources to create a coherent final broadcast mix. There is a lengthy sound check to help with this process and minimise the amount of mixing needed during the show. The players streaming in can only hear themselves back in the final mix after an internet-induced delay of between 10 and 30 seconds, necessitating that they take a leap of faith in each moment and 'play into the future'.

The collective quickly settled into a group of 11 sound artists (plus 1 photographer who became accidentally attached during the first broadcast), based in 9 separate locations across 5 countries. Due to the desire to give other players an opportunity when there were gaps, by the time series one came to a close there had been 16 players streaming from 14 locations across 9 countries, plus two special guest contributors who either called in live or sent material to be freely incorporated. The highest number playing together in a single show was 13, for the final performance of the series which took place at the Saarländische Künstlerhaus in Saarbrücken with four of the players in situ at the venue and the rest streaming in as usual.

Sarah began putting the group together spontaneously with artists she happened to be in contact with at the time. Very soon there were more than enough sound sources to tackle and everyone wanted to continue playing (therefore the membership did not regularly rotate between a wider group as expected until the final few weeks of series one). This rapid consolidation of weekly contributors greatly helped in the realisation of Sarah's primary aim - to establish a specific system which inherently allows a distinct aesthetic to develop. Thus CWCH collective was reborn in 2020 with a new hive mind. Further series and/or special editions are anticipated.

Edition 1 - The Same Boat (9th April 2020)

Knut Aufermann & Sarah Washington Ürzig, Katharina Bihler & Stefan Scheib Saarbrücken, Anna Friz Santa Cruz, Ralf Schreiber Cologne.
Photo developed during the show by Pierre Metzinger

Edition 2 - Oil & Vinegar (16th April 2020)

Knut Aufermann & Sarah Washington Ürzig, Frauke Berg Düsseldorf, Katharina Bihler & Stefan Scheib Saarbrücken, DinahBird Paris, dieb13 & Billy Roisz Vienna, Anna Friz Santa Cruz, Ralf Schreiber Cologne.
Photo developed during the show by Pierre Metzinger

Edition 3 - Wormhole Variations (23rd April 2020)

Edition 4 - Transcendental Trepidation (30th April 2020)

Edition 5 - Mission Compossible (7th May 2020)

Edition 6 - Weltschmerz Heimat (14th May 2020)

Knut Aufermann & Sarah Washington Ürzig, Xentos Fray Bentos Broughton, Frauke Berg Düsseldorf, Katharina Bihler & Stefan Scheib Saarbrücken, DinahBird Paris, dieb13 & Billy Roisz Vienna, Anna Friz Santa Cruz, Ralf Schreiber Cologne.
Special live guest Dr. Fortunatus Keller, Hamburg.
Photo developed during the show by Pierre Metzinger

Edition 7 - 300 Trillion Times Less Dense (21st May 2020)

Edition 8 - We Got Der Funk (28th May 2020)

Edition 9 - Rhapsody in Why? (4th June 2020)

Edition 10 - Stand Down Racist (11th June 2020)

Edition 11 - Fast Radio Bursts (18th June 2020)

Edition 12 - Last Wave Standing (25th June 2020)

Knut Aufermann & Sarah Washington Ürzig, Xentos Fray Bentos Broughton, Frauke Berg Düsseldorf, Katharina Bihler & Stefan Scheib Saarbrücken, DinahBird & Jean-Philippe Renoult Paris, dieb13 Vienna, Lloyd Dunn Prague, Anna Friz Santa Cruz, Lucinda Guy Buckfastleigh.
Photo developed during the show by Pierre Metzinger

Edition 13 - Indivisible i (2nd July 2020)

Knut Aufermann & Sarah Washington Ürzig, Xentos Fray Bentos Broughton, Frauke Berg Düsseldorf, DinahBird & Jean-Philippe Renoult Paris, dieb13 Vienna, Lloyd Dunn Prague, Anna Friz Santa Cruz, Lucinda Guy Buckfastleigh, Hannes Hölzl Andrian, Ralf Schreiber Cologne.
Special live guest Dr. Fortunatus Keller, Hamburg.
This edition was also broadcast live on Radio Corax.
Photo developed during the show by Pierre Metzinger

Edition 14 - More Bows Less Arrows (9th July 2020)

Knut Aufermann & Sarah Washington Ürzig, Xentos Fray Bentos Broughton, DinahBird Paris, dieb13 & Billy Roisz Vienna, Lloyd Dunn Prague, Anna Friz Santa Cruz, Ralf Schreiber Cologne, Rodrigo Ríos Zunino Valparaíso.
Special guest Nástio Mosquito.
Photo developed during the show by Pierre Metzinger

CWCH collective photo slide show

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A live collaborative radio art performance series, improvised around changing themes by a stellar line-up of sound and radio artists. Series one has 15 editions featuring 16 players, a photographer and 2 special guests.

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Link to OneDrive materials

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archive of live broadcast

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Delia Derbyshire / Barry Bermange - Inventions For Radio No 1 - The Dreams.

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A spellbinding tribute from one multi-faceted artist to another. New York-based artist Aki Onda (b. 1967) conjured a transduction to the Korean multi-media pioneer Nam June Paik (1932-2006). Aki himself describes the project:

"Nam June's Spirit Was Speaking to Me occurred purely by chance. In 2010, I was spending four days at Nam June Paik Art Center in South Korea for a series of performances and had plenty of free time to wander. The building was packed with Paik's artwork and related material. I have always felt a close kinship with him as an artist, and so it was a great opportunity to immerse myself in his works and ephemera.
It was that night I made the first contact, via a hand-held radio in a hotel room in Seoul. It was literally out of the blue. Scanning through the stations, I stumbled upon what sounded like a submerged voice and I began to record it in fascination. I concluded this was Paik's spirit reaching out to me.
The project continued to grow organically as I kept channeling Paik's spirit over long distance and receiving cryptic broadcasts/messages. The series of séances, conducted in different cities across the globe, began in Seoul in 2010, and continued in Köln, Germany in 2012, Wrocław, Poland in 2013, and Lewisburg, USA in 2014. The original recordings were captured by the same radio which has a tape recorder, with almost no editing, save for some minimal slicing and mastering.
Paik is known for his association with shamanism, a practice that constantly surfaces in his works all through his career. In an interview, he stated "In Korea, diverse forms of shamanism are strongly remained. Even though I have created my work unconsciously, the most inspiring thing in my work came from Korean female shaman Mudang." Paik himself was a master shaman and vividly used shaman rituals and symbols for staging his performances and installations.
These recordings also became a way for me to explore the mythic form of radio-a medium which is full of mysteries. The transmissions captured may be "secret broadcasts" on anonymous radio stations. There are in fact hundreds of those stations around the world, although the numbers dwindle as clandestine messages can now be sent via encrypted digital channels. Some of these stations were likely for military use or espionage or relics of the Cold War. But many others continue without apparent explanation. These are just some of the questions that remain unanswered."

Commissioned in 2017 by documenta 14's radio program "Every Time A Ear di Soun," these recordings were continually broadcast on eight radios stations around the world that year. Nam June's Spirit is a beautifully formed homage, I cannot think of any other like it. An intimate, flickering language discovered through the air. The LP comes replete with a booklet of rare photographs of Paik. These images were shot on the set of Michael Snow's film Rameau's Nephew... (1974), although the scene was not included in the final cut.

-Sean McCann, 2020

released June 5, 2020

Limited Edition of 250 LPs
20-page art booklet including rare photographs of Nam June Paik from the set of Michael Snow's film Rameau's Nephew (1974), two essays on radio-wave phenomenon (by Onda and Marcus Gammel), and a remembrance of Paik by Yuji Agematsu

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Nam June's Spirit Was Speaking To Me, by Aki Onda

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Nam June's Spirit Was Speaking To Me by Aki Onda, released 05 June 2020 1. Seoul (2010) 2. Köln (2012) 3. Lewisburg (2014) 4. Wrocław (2013) A spellbinding tribute from one multi-faceted artist to another. New York-based artist Aki Onda (b. 1967) conjured a transduction to the Korean multi-media pioneer Nam June Paik (1932-2006).

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Both Guglielmo Marconi and Thomas Edison believed in the possibility of using new recording devices to contact the dead, or the "living impaired," to use Edison's uncanny twenty-first century term. Sir William Crooks, President of the Royal Society and inventor of the cathode ray tube, and Sir Oliver Lodge, one of the leading contributors to radio technology, believed the other world to be a wavelength into which we pass when we die. In the 1950s, Friedrich Jürgensen, a painter, archaeologist, and former opera singer living in Sweden, found traces of extra voices on tapes with which he was trying to record birdsongs. Over the years, Jürgensen made thousands of recordings of the voices of the dead, ranging from his family and friends to people such as Vincent van Gogh and Himmler's masseur. These are claimed to be the world's first recordings of Electronic Voice Phenomena (EVP), the paranormal appearance of strange voices on magnetic tape. The following is a sketch of Jürgenson's life and his remarkable and persistent "audioscopic research" into contacting the dead. Some of the recordings from Jürgenson's vast archive have recently become available on the CD Friedrich Jürgensen: From the Studio for Audioscopic Research (Ash International). ¹

Friedrich Jürgenson was born in Odessa on 8 February 1903. His mother was Swedish and his father was of Danish descent, practicing as a physician in Odessa where the family had moved from Estonia. After living through World War I and the Russian Revolution as a child, Jürgenson trained as a painter at the Art Academy, and as a singer and musician at the Odessa Conservatory, where he was a contemporary of the concert pianist Svjatoslav Richter. In 1925 the family was allowed to move back to Estonia where Friedrich continued his training as a singer and painter, and shortly afterward he moved to Berlin for more studies. Here his tutor was the bass singer Tito Scipa. Scipa, a Jew, fled to Palestine in 1932 and Jürgenson accompanied him, staying for six years. During this period, while still studying, he made a living as a singer and painter, and some predicted a successful career for him in opera.

In 1938 Jürgenson left Palestine for Milan for more studying and performances. In 1943, when he went to visit his parents, the colder climate caused him serious health problems and his voice was partially damaged. Jürgenson decided to give up his professional opera career to concentrate entirely on painting. He was a realist painter, mostly doing portraits, landscapes, and still lives.

Driven out by war in that year he moved to Sweden. Located in Stockholm, he married and became a Swedish citizen. Here he also learnt his tenth language. During the following years he painted portraits of wealthy Swedes and of the town of Stockholm. In 1949 he visited Pompeii in Italy and in order to get easier access to the buried city he showed some of his work to the Vatican. A few days later he received a proposal: the Vatican recognized his talents and asked him to catalogue their archaeological works buried beneath the Holy City. He returned the following year and for four months sat in this damp underworld, painted, and contracted pneumonia. The Vatican medics cured him and when Pope Pius XII saw the results of his work he asked Jürgenson to paint a portrait of him. In all, Jürgenson produced four portraits of the Pope. Now he had full access to Pompeii as well, and he returned there many times to paint.

In 1957 Jürgenson bought a tape recorder to record his own singing, and he started to notice at this time some quite strange phenomena; inexplicable fade-ins and fade-outs on the tapes; abstract visions and telepathic messages. Jürgenson understood that these events were produced by his highly developed aural and visual senses caused by his artistic prowess.

In the following year Jürgenson had his first major exhibition amidst the ruins of Pompeii.

Back in Stockholm his telepathic contacts continued:

"I sat by the table, clearly awake and relaxed. I sensed that soon something was going to happen. Following an inner pleasurable calmness, long sentences in English appeared in my consciousness. I did not perceive these sentences acoustically but they formed themselves as long phonetic sentences and after a closer study I couldn't conceive the words as correct English but in a disfigured almost alphabetical way-completely deformed. I did not hear a voice, a sound, or a whisper. It was all soundless."

Later he also recalled that in the spring of 1959 he "got a message about a Central Investigation Station in space where they conducted profound observations of Mankind. [...] My friends spoke about certain electro-magnetic screens or radars, that were frequently transmitted, day and night, in batches of thousands to our three-dimensional life levels and, like living beings, had a mission as mental messengers. Undoubtedly one could see these radars as half-living robots that, remote controlled, had the ability like an oversensitive television or radio to correctly register and transmit all our conscious and unconscious impulses, feelings, and thoughts." Jürgenson knew that these fantastic facts really belonged to science fiction but he continued hoping to capture these messages on tape.

On 12 June 1959, Jürgenson and his wife Monica went to visit their country house to enjoy the warm summer. Jürgenson brought his tape recorder to record the singing of wild birds, especially the chaffinch.

Listening to the tape he "heard a noise, vibrating like a storm, where you could only remotely hear the chirping of the birds. My first thought was that maybe some of the tubes had been damaged. In spite of this I switched on the machine again and let the tape roll. Again I heard this peculiar noise and the distant chirping. Then I heard a trumpet solo, a kind of a signal for attention. Stunned, I continued to listen when suddenly a man's voice began to speak in Norwegian. Even though the voice was quite low I could clearly hear and understand the words. The man spoke about 'nightly bird voices' and I perceived a row of piping, splashing, and rattling sounds. Suddenly the choir of birds and the vibrating noise stopped. In the next moment the chirping of a chaffinch was heard and you could hear the tits singing at a distance-the machine worked perfectly!"

From this point Jürgenson continued to investigate these phenomena and at first he thought it was his "friends from outer space," but very soon he began to believe that these voices were "from the other side," or the "Voices of the Dead." Was he close to solving one of the fundamental mysteries of death?

At this moment Jürgenson experienced a remarkable event that would change his life:

"I was outside with a tape recorder, recording bird songs. When I listened through the tape, a voice was heard to say 'Friedel, can you hear me. It's mammy. ...' It was my dead mother's voice. 'Friedel' was her special nickname for me."

At this point Jürgenson abandoned painting for his audio recordings and in 1964 he published Rösterna Från Rymden (The Voices From Space, published by Saxon & Lindström Förlag in Stockholm).

"My love for the arts was still alive now as ever, and I asked myself if it was the right thing for me to abandon the art of painting-a creative occupation to which I had dedicated my whole life." Later, he writes "Instead, I was sitting here with an enormous jigsaw puzzle brooding in despair over the problem of whether one could assemble a more complete picture from all these fragments. And, likewise... I had never before been so touched and captured by any other urgencies than by these mystical connections, literally floating in the ether."

Now located in Mölnbo, south of Stockholm, Jürgenson held his first press conference.The Swedish press was stunned by Jürgenson's scientific approach to these matters, and was understandingly critical. The International Paranormal Societies, as well as the Max Planck Institute, the University of Freiburg, and the Parapsychological Association in the USA, also took a keen interest. Others, like Konstantin Raudive and Claude Thorlin, came to visit and began to work with tape recorders.

At first Jürgenson only used a microphone and a tape recorder. He simply set up the microphone, set the recorder on 'record,' and spoke clearly into the room, leaving space for voices to respond. This was a bit tricky for Jürgenson, since he always had to play back the tape, sometimes at a lower speed, to hear the voices. These voices spoke in a combination of various languages -Swedish, German, Russian, English, Italian-all languages that Jürgenson knew and could speak. He called this new mixture of languages "polyglot," or, "many tongues."

In spring 1960 one of the voices told him to "use the radio" as a medium and this was the technique he used until his death. He connected a microphone and a radio receiver to the tape recorder and in this way he could have a real-time conversation with his "friends." Usually he set the radio reception in between frequencies where there is generally a variation of noises. Later, he fixed the receiving frequencies to around 1445-1500 kHz (1485.0 kHz is now called the Jürgenson Frequency).

In 1965 Jürgenson took up painting again but recording remained his main activity. At this time he also revisited Pompeii and found that the site was being mistreated. Sponsored by Swedish National Television, he made the documentary film Pompeii: A Cultural Relic That Must Be Preserved, in 1966. A vast output followed in the en- suing years from this highly energetic and creative figure.

In 1967 his book on EVP, Sprechfunk Mit Verstorbenen, was published by Freiburg's Verlag Hermann Bauer KG. In 1968 Jürgenson made four documentaries: The Temples at Paestum and the City of Temples and Graves, a film on the ancient Greek city south of Salerno; The Death of Birds In Italy, about the purposeless killing of birds in Italy; The Miracle of the Blood of St. Gennaro, about the famous blood phenomenon in Naples; and a film documenting Jürgenson's own archaeological diggings at Pompeii. In 1968 his third book was published in Swedish: Radio och Mikrofonkontakt med de Döda (Radio and Microphone Contact with the Dead, published by Nybloms in Uppsala). Rome was impressed with Jürgenson's documentary output. The result of his work at Pompeii was another mission for the Vatican, and in 1969 his documentary The Fisherman from Gallilee: On the Grave and Stool of Peter was finished. For this, Jürgenson received the Order of Commendatore Gregorio Magno from the hand of Pope Paul VI. Shortly after, he also made a film about the life of the Pope, and Paul VI's high regard for this film prompted him to contact Jürgenson again. Jürgenson then painted three portraits of his second Pope. Around this time he was also permitted to conduct his own archaeological diggings in Pompeii and he dug out the large house of the governor in Pompeii.

In the 1970s, Jürgenson continued to record and paint. Moving from Mölnbo to Höör in Skåne, southern Sweden, he found a more peaceful place for his work. Age began to take its toll and Jürgenson spent more time with his recordings at home, making an occasional trip to Italy. There was also serious talk about founding an EVP research institute in Italy. In 1978 he held his third press conference and gave a large number of lectures. Here he predicted that we will soon be able to receive messages through television as well. He labeled the work "Audioscopic Research." His German book was translated into Dutch, Italian, and Portuguese at the beginning of the 80s. In 1985 he held his last press conference in conjunction with a nationwide television appearance.

Friedrich Jürgenson died in October 1987 and left several hundred tapes of recorded material.

Carl Michael von Hausswolff is an artist based in Stockholm. His work has been exhibited in many international events, including documenta X, the Istanbul Binennial, and Site Santa Fe. Von Hausswolff and Leif Elggren are the double monarchs of the Royal Kingdoms of Elgaland-Vargaland. For more information on the kingdom, see here. Von Hausswolff is a contributing editor to Cabinet.
If you've enjoyed the free articles that we offer on our site, please consider subscribing to our nonprofit magazine. You get twelve online issues and unlimited access to all our archives.

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Carl Michael von Hausswolff, assisted by M. S. C. Harding

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Both Guglielmo Marconi and Thomas Edison believed in the possibility of using new recording devices to contact the dead, or the "living impaired," to use Edison's uncanny twenty-first century­ term.

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Reveil annual live 24h daybreak broadcast

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REVEIL 24+ HOUR BROADCAST 2020

5AM London time (UTC 0+1) on Saturday 2 MAY to 6AM on Sunday 3 MAY 2020

To follow the Reveil broadcast and parallel channels and connect with the IRC conversation >> REVEIL PLATFORM

To contribute a stream to the broadcast with a laptop, phone or Raspberry pi, see these
Streaming methods

Reveil 7 - Schedule

Reveil 7 - Stream profiles

Listen to Reveil on the radio.

DIAL REVEIL on 0330 6069193
* Calls at local UK rates as set by your phone provider *

REVEIL relays the sounds of live open microphones operated by streamers on the Locus Sonus soundmap, Cyberforest programme, LIDO deep water hydrophone observatory, Biom Open Microphone network, and elsewhere. It spans from formal research to domestic projects and one-off broadcasts.

Reveil 2020 is mixed live by Soundcamp in London UK (Grant Smith, Hannah Kemp-Welch) and Crete GR (Maria Papadomanolaki) with guest mixers in South River Ontario CA (Darren Copeland, NAISA) and Sunshine Coast, Queensland AUS (Leah Barclay, Biosphere Soundscapes).

Partner organisations include Full Of Noises (Cumbria UK) · Locus Sonus (Aix FR) · Radio CONA (Ljubljana SLO) · HMU (Crete GR) · Cyberforest (Tokyo JP).

Produced in London by Dawn Scarfe, Ciara Drew, Christine Bramwell.

Design and development: Sam Baraitser Smith, Luke Saunders, Max Baraitser Smith.

Broadcasting Partners include Resonance FM/Extra(UK), Soundart Radio (UK) Wave Farm/WGXC(NY), NAISA Radio (Canada), Colaboradio (Berlin), Phaune Radio (Canada, France), Radio Campus (France), Radio Patapoe (Amsterdam), Orange 94 (Austria), Oscillation festival (Brussels), Radio Tsonami (Chile), Wildlife Sound Recording Society (WSRS), Colaboradio (Berlin), Radio Campus (France), Archipel Stadions Community Radio (Berlin), Chimeres Radio (Athens), ΠΝode (Brussels).

Reveil is a collective production by streamers at listening points around the planet. Starting on the morning of Saturday 2 May in South London near the Greenwich Meridian, the broadcast will pick up feeds one by one, tracking the sunrise west from microphone to microphone, following the wave of intensified sound that loops the earth every 24 hours at first light.

In 2020 Reveil featurea new streams from places where humans and non humans meet, in soundscapes often radically altered by the Covid-19 pandemic. Many of these these streams come from from homes and gardens as people make connections between the the domestic spaces where they find themselves.

Themes of connection and collective practices addressing changes in public space inform the program of extended radio projects that accompanies the Reveil broadacast. Supported by Arts Council England originally as a series of site specific commissions, these have become virtual projects that respond directly or oblquely to the current situation. They help to recollect kinds of sociability that have been lost and point to others on the way. This is imagined sonically as an acoustic commons in the making.

To contribute a stream using a mobile phone, laptop or Raspberry Pi, see the recipes for streamers. Each stream adds to the variety and scope of this 7th transect. Please check these workshop resources for more information.

Streams come from a wide variety of locations, at a time of day when human sounds are relatively low, even in densely populated sites. This tends to open the sound field to a more diverse ecology than usual. The Reveil broadcast makes a space for this surplus by largely avoiding speech and music, gravitating to places where human and non human communities meet and soundworlds overlap.

The Reveil project is anticipated and informed by transects recorded by Gordon Hempton and Bernie Krause in the 1980's and 1990's that re-presented and extended auditions of the dawn chorus across large areas, as well as variants that captured the progress of Spring moving up over North America. The idea of a round-the-world dawn chorus recording lasting 24 hours has appeared periodically on wildlife and nature recordist lists. Gordon Hempton and the ornithologist Don Kroodsma have both imagined such a trajectory as a kind of aural surfing. In 2010 in collaboration with Páll Thayer, Ragnar Helgi Ólafsson made the installation DayBreak, Forever, which used a script to create a sequence through the Locus Sonus streams in much the same way Reveil would do later.

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REVEIL 24+ HOUR BROADCAST 2020 5AM London time (UTC 0+1) on Saturday 2 MAY to 6AM on Sunday 3 MAY 2020 To follow the Reveil broadcast and parallel channels and connect with the IRC conversation >> REVEIL PLATFORM To contribute a stream to the broadcast with a laptop, phone or Raspberry pi, see these Streaming methods Reveil 7 - Schedule Reveil 7 - Stream profiles Listen to Reveil on the radio.

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Maryanne Amacher's City Links

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I am listening to a tape that belonged to US experimental composer Maryanne Amacher. Many tapes belonged to Amacher and this one has been recently digitized. At once both transfixing and boring, drips, drops, exhalations and whirs gently punctuate its thirty-five minutes, though nearly half its duration offers little more than hiss-filled stasis - near silence - perhaps, 'almost nothing'. Labelled 'Pier Six Edited 1976', this tape seems to find Amacher in the middle - a tiny sliver of the middle - of an extreme duration listening project: between 1973 and 1978, Amacher treated herself to a fourteen hour/day dosage of the Boston Harbor's sounding life, courtesy of a dedicated, open-air 15 kcl telelink connecting her Cambridge studio with a Neumann microphone perched in the window of the Boston Harbor's 'Fish Pier'. The feed was FM quality, in mono. Poised to commit any - whatever - incoming sounding moment was Amacher's ReVox B77 reel-to-reel tape machine, coupled with the mixer and telelink. This interval of hiss-filled stillness she will call a 'long distance music' (see Figure 1).

Amacher's Harbor tapes - and other tapes, too, from a series she called 'Life Time and its Music' made during her tenure at SUNY Buffalo as a Creative Associate (1966-7)- criss-crossed the United States between 1967 and 1980 as she developed the twenty-two installations that came to comprise the series City-Links. Each part in the series was a little different. In US cities across the Northeast, Southeast, and Midwest, City-Links's telelinks connected one to as many as eight meticulously placed remote microphones to radio stations, galleries, or museums, where Amacher mixed the live-feeds - sometimes cinched by the Harbor material, 'Life Time' tapes or accented with an instrumentalist - for broadcast or performance. As though indexing her long-term Harbor cohabitation, these durations were typically expansive: a twenty-eight-hour broadcast ( City-Links #1 at WBFO Buffalo 1967), a six-week long telelink transmission ( City-Links #9 at the Walker Art Center, 1974), and two-months' worth of live feed ( City Links #12 at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago, 1974).

If, as this volume's introduction suggests, 'tape bears witness to history', City-Links underscores that tape cannot be a modest witness: tape's standpoint is at once situated, partial and insistently embodied, as Donna Haraway might insist. Implicated in Cold War technoscience and in struggles against its imperial consequences, Haraway's analysis finds 'Home, Market, State, School, Clinic, Church' and other places of paid work idealized from the perspective of advanced capitalist societies transforming amid new technologies, high-tech capital needs and dispersed social relations. The connective logics of City-Links, too, register these implications. City-Links 's tapes and telelinks interleave sounds of discipline, production, exchange, and consumption across heterogeneous social and institutional locations careening, differently, amid the violence of deindustrialization during the 1970s: Exchange National Bank (Chicago) and Carson Pirie Scott (Chicago); Bethlehem Steel (Buffalo); General Mills (Minneapolis) and many, many others. Less concerned with analytics of storage or a Kittlerian mnemotechnics so often cleaved to phonography, this article interprets Amacher's tapes in and as the long distance wagers in which the telelink enrolled them - a meditation on social location and 'high-tech' embodiment and 'geometries of difference'.

To adapt Ken Wark's sharp commentary, the 'messy business of making science' - or with Amacher, connecting musics, tapes, links, phone calls - embraces its implication in nets of power, processing and reinforcing of metaphors not of its making, and its dependence on a vast cyborg apparatus, according to Haraway. While the tape-telelink coupling is surely a mechanical wager - the ReVox B77 reel-to-reel connected to the mixer and the mixer to the phone block's incoming feed - it also proffers what she calls a 'figuration': a 'performative image that can be inhabited'. If a nexus of critical media operations - cutting, splicing, looping, rewinding, spooling - articulate tape within the phonographic regime's attenuation, this article proposess contrasting figures, culled from this tape's long distance adventures in City Links. The telelink surely conjures the ideological image of the network in and through its point to point connection. Yet, an analysis that takes seriously the standpoint of the cyborg apparatus also discerns in City Links's tapes, shuttling restlessly between the telelinks' networked point-to-point warp, a weft suggestive less of networking than weaving - at once a contested and complicit mesh of dispersed social locations, high-tech capital and heterogenous logics of connection and long-distance embodiments.

And so, more than a framing gambit, this essay makes a sustained and experimental effort to materialize Amacher's Harbor tape within its writing, redoubling tape in the place of the long-duration Harbor feed-in but also, more broadly, performing some of the temporal intrusions and material dispersions convened by the tape-telelink couplet on the page (as Amacher's own writing also attempts). This experimental inhabitation passes relentlessly between 'tape' and 'telelink', sounding their differential weave in multiple registers of analysis: the aesthetic, embodied, social, political, economic. Attuned to a critical poetics of locational dispersion and manoeuvre, this lyrical article plays Amacher's Harbor over (sometimes behind, sometimes against) six short and allusive scenes.

* * *

This tape - as gulls squawk amid the recording's hissy stillness - casts me into the warp and weft of City-Links #13 ('Incoming Night - Blum at Pier 6'). Amacher's in-studio Harbor feed has been temporarily re-routed to 40 Massachusetts Avenue - the Center for Advanced Studies at MIT (hereafter 'CAVS') - where she helmed the live mix for a late night performance, 11:30pm-3am on 8 May 1975. Eberhard Blum - flautist, vocalist and signal interpreter of Feldman, Cage, and Schwitters - has joined Amacher's Neumann at the Pier, where he improvises. Another tape, likely recorded in MIT's anechoic chamber and woven, live, with this mix, draws Blum - sighs, whistle tones, breaths pressed through pursed lips - very, very close.

The installation series that follow City-Links, starting in 1980 - Music for Sound Joined Rooms and the Mini-Sound Series - extended the modular usage of pre-recorded material that indexed social and institutional weave, in many City-Links projects. No longer telelinked, these two series turned towards sound's dramatic architectural staging, subordinating musical material to three-dimensional sonic shapes and contours - 'sound characters', as Amacher called them, that might quiver, coil, or slither in air - as her primary horizons of narrative and dramaturgical possibility. City-Links's decade-plus interval also braced the psychoacoustics research programme she called 'Additional Tones', whose paradigmatic representative 'Head Rhythm & Plaything' opens the first of only two commercial releases, Sound Characters: Making the Third Ear. 'Head Rhythm' is bracing: patterned, sinusoidal tone bursts coax pulsing difference tones from the basilar membrane, sharpening a biomechanical divergence between stimulus (incident sound) and reception (frequency analysis) for radical contrasts in auditory dimension, a contrapuntal prerogative in which tessitura becomes inextricable from sounding location on the auditory pathway.

Amacher wrote voluminously and her archive teems with stunning unpublished work. The especially aphoristic text 'Long Distance Music' appears nested in a works list spanning 1967 to 1971, which includes project descriptions of In City (also known as City-Links #1), flanked by a series of Fluxus-style text pieces that differently extend and complicate this text's account. Unfolded unevenly in short paragraphs, single sentences and the odd stand-alone fragment across just two and half pages, Amacher's tone is poetic, but her explication of 'long distance music' is systematic. A few excerpts, from the text's first paragraph sets up not one but three proposed practices of 'long distances music':

[. . .]

[. . .]

These 'ALL CAPS' interruptions initiate a suggestive interpretive itinerary. Throwing 'ONE' into relief throughout the text's first half isolates the point-like locations that it aspires to connect in and as a 'long distance music'. A second interruption, however - 'ALL THE TIME' - clarifies that this connection is also a question of socially conjugated time. To become a 'long distance music', Amacher's 'ONEs' must also be drawn into the same durative present. After proposing three such musics at the text's mid-point, her provocative 'ONEs' recede into a lowercase flow and more speculative phrasings take up their 'ALL CAPS' energy: 'OUTSIDE OUR OWN STRUCTURES . . . WE ARE HEARING IN MOTION AND IN STILLNESS', she writes, 'WE BEGIN TO HEAR EACH OTHER MUCH BETTER IN THE PLACE WE ARE IN.' Once linked, the 'ONEs' of Amacher's 'ALL TIME' imaginary conjure a listening that lingers near the subjective mood: conditional and open-endedly ongoing.

Amacher's first 'long distance music' relies on 'remote circuitry', presaging the Harbor feed's technical protocols. City-Links streamed over 'leased lines', ad hoc point-to-point connections that wired many different transmissions throughout the 1970s: Muzak, live sporting events, on-site radio broadcasts, and amateur radio, to name a few. Comprising a movable, inconspicuously placed 'phone block' - designated by the '2MT-4461' at the top of the Special Service Order (see Figure 2) and coupled with a Shure 668 microphone mixer - Bell field engineers installed and removed leased lines, rentable on the cheap. Amacher paid $30 for her Harbor-side phone block installation, plus a tariff for non-commercial transmission across eleven nautical miles, according to working notes for City-Links #9 (1974). Amacher's feed linked her studio with the Harbor alone, a dedicated connection that admitted no incoming calls and secured the 'ALL THE TIME' protocol that structures the first half of the 'Long Distance' text.

Perhaps surprisingly, Amacher's second and third 'long distance musics' both excise the telelink entirely, confabulating two additional linkless listenings that traverse both much vaster and much smaller distances (respectively) than her intracity Harbor lines. The text piece 'Green Weather' is named but not cited at any length in the 'Long Distance Music' essay, though it directly follows the essay on Amacher's typewritten page. An excerpt from the first of 'Green Weather's' three brief paragraphs:

Though 'Green Weather' could readily fit Amacher's first remotely circuited long-distance protocol, its emphatic linklessness underscores that all three protocols unfold in concert and in conflict with what Avital Ronell calls a pre- or para-technological techne. While Amacher's punctual 'ONEs' dramatize 'Long Distance Music's' pressures on socially conjugated time, 'Green Weather', performs a differently nuanced long-distance linkage on the page. 'Green Weather' intrudes on 'Long Distance Music', yet 'Long Distance Music' also extrudes 'Green Weather', a relay (or delay) that links the two by dramatizing the impossible timing of their interimplication, etched into both Amacher's writing and the hissing tape it presages prior to hooking up the Harbor feed in 1973.

The point-to-point connection roils with broader questions about the materialization of bodies and mind-body relations across an uneven high-tech social and political field. Amacher's third 'long distance music' remains, also, linkless but traverses much smaller ('long') distances than 'Green Weather': 'hearing and seeing 10 blocks away', she specifies, means hearing 'what is sounding far-away and close up at the same time'. Here, listening in situ aims not for a verisimilar imprint of the site - that hallmark of soundscape composition - but for a listening modelled on the point-to-point connection secured by the leased line. Unlike the interleaved (but suggestively underdetermined) bodies of 'Green Weather', this listening seems to clasp both ends of the leased-line at once and a body at once dispersed and rematerialized in concert with the speeds and durations of an 'ALL THE TIME' networked imaginary.

Lingering with Amacher's text, homologies between long-distance music and long-distance dialing become suggestive (and, to me, nearly irresistible). This homology, in other words, summons 'the telephone' as a tantalizing interpretive horizon for 'Long Distance Music' and for City-Links, more broadly. The variable social and bodily geometries roiling Amacher's text, however, make different demands on this interpretive gambit. To speak of 'the' telephone is to always-already mistake one for two. One telephone conjures another, poised and waiting on the other end of the line. With this, 'the' telephone admits otherness at its core, with a 'call' necessarily late to a connection it reveals to have been (always)-already in place: not 'yes' or 'hello', but yes-yes, hello-hello. If telephone conjure commingling, it is 'only ever almost there'.

Dissimulating its two-in(or as?)-one, 'the telephone' is insolent. Telephonic redoubling - the phone call - interrupts, all the ruder for its impossible timing. Yes, Amacher is not taking calls on her dedicated 15 kcl line, but in artworks, Avital Ronell suggests, redoubled telephones summon not only the caller on the other end of the line, but also by so doing also query text's 'veiled receiver'. Film is Ronell's preferred exemplar. Disembodied voices might sometimes direct the diegesis by roving, uncanny and horrifying, over telephone lines, but the telephonic aperture also 'makes felt a connection with reception history' that cannot be fully claimed in and as the acousmêtre 's thingified authority.

The hiss-swathed breaths that accompany my writing surely materialize Amacher, their receiver, at the ReVox, in the studio or behind the mixer at the CAVS Gallery. And yet, inhabiting their tethers in the mono field also conjures the other end of the long-distance 15 kcl transmission, holding open the line for other receivers - a dense, overlay of differential geometries. Green Weather's linkless gambit, for example, conjures an earlier twentieth-century entanglement of telephony with telepathy, twinned as both features and figures of a 'pace of communication that was both more rapid and more efficient than that of language'. Querying a physical process ramified, at both ends, as identical psychic content - in Green Weather's case, copacetic (or, just close enough) musical sensibilities - continues querying not only a gendered and racialized materialization of bodies but also their long-distance interimplication, conjugated between telephony's untimely timings and Amacher's 'ALL TIME' protocols. The tape - another (barely) veiled receiver, for this feed, with its hums, whirs and long silences - weaves these queries through another redoubling, another connective mise en scène.

* * *

The City-Links #13 tape's gentle droplets and sighing vessels might evoke something like 'ambient music'. But, like the leased line, the 'encircling embrace' of City-Links's ambire also dissimulates a separation, an ' ambi' that both conjoins and distinguishes, like the two-sides-at-once of 'ambivalent' or 'ambiguous'. This tape's drips, drops, thuds, and thumps index its telephonic coupling, opposite Amacher's studio-side ReBVox, with a phone block and microphone mixer at the Pier. Here. . . there. . . or both (but not quite): the crumbling walls, boarded windows, and torn-up floor capture an infrastructural neglect - a 'modern gothic' - that catch the Harbor careening amid not just economic change, but also economic change as a kind of social change that entails the obsolescence of the past (see Figure 3). After the seaport's sharp decline during the 1960s, the Moran Terminal introduced container shipping to the region in 1971, initiating a massive resurgence of trade and reconfiguring 'the Harbor's heterogenous patchwork of civic, state, and federal lands as a new prerogative for expansion and development that prioritized private shipping concerns' (see Figures 4 and 5). That same year - and two years before Amacher placed her microphone Pier-side - one of this tape's (many) institutional locations, MIT's Center for Advanced Visual Studies, had trained its environmental art focus on Harbor and Charles River-based projects, recruiting artists specifically to 'revitalize the deteriorating river environs as a public open space'. While abandoned infrastructure provoked debates about an ethics and politics of memorialization across a deindustrialized Midwest and (some of the) Northeast, Amacher's microphone catches the Pier amid a rearrangement of social tense whereby its contaminated water, floating debris, and rotting vessels could be newly narrated as horizons of both aesthetic and economic possibility.

Insofar as inhabiting the tape-telelink couplet has so very briefly tarried with the uneven sectoral dislocations transforming Amacher's Harbor, its two parts have placed my listening there (or here) somewhat differently, suggesting further, unlikely groupings of music practices that thread tape - and especially environmental field recording - with and against further long-distance experiments. In an expert reading of Luc Ferrari's Presque Rien (1968), Brian Kane discerns how the Dalmatian Coasts's social sounds are 'brought to audibility' in and as a mix that redoubles the flat surface - tape - on which it was recorded; a flat mix, in other words, that cannot disavow precisely its recorded character. Amacher's mono transmission, too, cannot dissimulate a 'spatial imprint of site'. Her mix eschews soundscape's paradigms of verisimilitude and instead points back at the facticity of its transmission (not its recording) for a dense, holographic interleave of social geometries and conjugations conjured by the project's many different notions of long-distance, as this essay's final vignette will demonstrate. Yet, the 'almost nothing' that hisses behind this writing is no closer to Presque Rien (1967-70) than to projects that resound 'high-tech', long-distance desires more explicitly. Lingering on tape, Alvin Lucier's North American Time Capsule (1967) proffers the voices of the Brandeis University Chamber Chorus made 'alien', in and as the gurgling chatter, robotic irruptions, and beam-like tones of a vocoder in glitched-out ecstasy, hardware that frayed a path for compression, that political economic 'recipe for fitting more calls on the line'. And finally, getting on the phone at Billy Kluver's Evenings of Art and Technology, the John Cage of Variations VII placed calls on the public network - to sites a lot like Amacher's (the ASPCA, the 14th Street ConEd Plant, Luchow's Restaurant, for example) - and, leaving, the receiver off the hook at both sites aspired to the leased lines' open, dedicated connection. In extant documentation, these calls are lost in a seething miasma of sine tones, Geiger counters, and other electronics.

If Lucier's glitched-out vocoder and EAT's specially rigged handsets suggest yet another weave-like scene, that scene might also query 'fitting more calls on the line' much differently: not only a US telephone network within which long-distance dialing's expanded spatial reach could supplant industry as a symbol of US imperial power amidst a 'generalized insecurity about economic change', but instead the high-tech embodiments that materialized - eyes, ears, fingertips, backs and shoulders - in and as the speed at which calls could be processed on computerized consoles. In contrast, Amacher's Harbor tape convokes less genealogies of compression than telephone operators disciplined along gendered and racialized lines and deskilled amid switchboards' computerized beginning in the early 1960s.

At once intimate and remote, the operator's body - 'her voice, gestures and fatigue commingled with the message delivery system' - had long been a fraught locus of discipline, desire, fantasy, and anxiety. Indeed, between the early 1960s and mid-1970s, the music practices resounded above coincided with the introduction of new switching technologies, in the Bell system, whose twinned logics of deskilling and discipline reconfigured gendered and racialized spheres of work, as Venus Green's Race on the Line has richly shown. On computerized consoles, Direct Distance Dialing drastically reduced the number of calls requiring operator assistance. Renamed the 'service specialist', the operator at the unprecedentedly fast console inhabited a harsh disciplinary enclosure: constant, controlled and repetitive movement, eye and ear strain, acute stress and extremely detailed manager surveillance, afforded by the console itself. Continually restructuring fraught paths linking deskilling to automation, Green shows, new technology opened new opportunities - particular for African-American operators - only to close them through 'computerization and occupational segregation'. Lingering with Amacher's claim to 'long distance music' dramatizes broader genealogies concerning how 'new technologies have historically designated what kinds of labour are considered replaceable and reproducible versus what kind of creative capacities remain vested with privileged populations and spaces of existence'.

* * *

Amacher plies much from the 'almost nothing' that's been hissing along behind this writing. Her working notes cajole the Harbor's 'inner melody' onto the five-line stave. Poised between F♯s one and two octaves below middle C, these bass staves appear, scrawled, in notes for City-Links #7 (Chicago, 1974) and #10 (Minneapolis, 1974), suggesting a centricity for parts of the entire series, resounding in and as the Harbor tapes or perhaps, like 'Green Weather' lodged, in the series, securing connections that never quite coincide. On the City-Links #13 tape, Blum reliably focalizes D♯, with an anacrustic fall from F♯, referencing the Harbor's F♯ ballast, but guiding it towards a vaporous, melancholic minor orientation.

Blum's contributions unfold, on this tape, within a delicate five-part symmetry. Blum is at the Pier with Amacher's microphone streaming the Harbor's mono nuances, as usual. Yet, Blum's improvised activity also opens the excerpt, on a different tape and in a different space. Here. . . or there. . . (but not quite), he plays very, very close to a stereo pair, as though to the mic, for the mic. Spongy-mouth sounds nestle in the left channel while whistles, breaths, tones, and flutter tonguing arch through the right, nearly redoubling the left-to-right arrangement of the mouth and then the hands across the instrument. Staked on Blum's comportment with the instrument, the stereo image dissolves after about five minutes into a mono expanse of hiss-filled stillness, as droplets, thuds and thumps creep across the telelink. A second cluster of bolder contributions from Blum coincides with sparse whirs of vessels and planes and then, like the first, gives way to another long, static interval. The tape concludes with the Harbor, alone: pulsing multiphonics effloresce - almost glow - towards audibility, and then shear apart in and as the corrugated whir of machinery. Velvety hums become spit and sputter as vessels draw close to the mono mic. In and as this passage, smouldering low-mids resolve into texturized, metallic rotations. Wending in and out of the mono field, this fuzzy thirty-five minute excerpt feels balanced, composed.

From end to end, the excerpt makes a point-to-point connection of sorts, arching from Blum to Amacher, like the networked link along which her Harbor Feed streamed. The excerpt's opening gambit indexes Blum's remote location, but concludes by conjuring Amacher at the mixing board, the feed's (partially) veiled receiver. There, she is subtle. In this fifth and final interval, comprised exclusively of Harbor activity, levels remain consistent, she seems not to ride the potentiometers. And she intervenes only subtly in panning space, nudging approaching vessels from right to left, but no more than fifteen degrees from centre. If Blum is still on the Pier, he's not playing. And Amacher does not, again, reprise his stereo contributions in her edit.

* * *

Yes, this article often becomes too poetic with its experiments in hearing from the perspective of the tape-telelink couplet. Tacking restlessly between the standpoint of tape and that of the telelink and back again, this article has perhaps left more lines open - more differentially connective scenes - than it has drawn conclusions. These locational manoeuvres have dialogued, tacitly, with Haraway's 1983 provocation - a full three years after Amacher's last City-Links project: 'there is no place for women in the integrated circuit'. Maybe not a place, but rather unevenly overlaid geometries of difference, contestation, and complicity. And even that, well, depends. Broadly, the article's experimental, even wild contours retake this query as a project of feminist musicology, extending critical genealogies of 'the body' that have oriented the field since the 1990s with refocused attention - not just constitutive frameworks for life, labour, and creativity, but also their uneven distribution in and as 1970s US historical coordinates. Rather than a dispersal or dematerialization of the body, this article has tried to sound out what aspects of long-distance consubstantiality are implicated - and unevenly (in)audible - in different registers of aesthetic, technological, social, and political analysis. This writing effort moves towards articulating questions of social content, power, and resistance that have long been central to feminist musicology to an emerging sound art discourse - that often claims Amacher as an originary figure - struggling to extend its interpretive horizons towards the social, the cultural, and the political.

Like the tape hissing behind this article's many weave-like efforts, this effort, too, remains ongoing.

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Telematic Tape: Notes on Maryanne Amacher's City-Links (1967-1980) | Twentieth-Century Music | Cambridge Core

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I am listening to a tape that belonged to US experimental composer Maryanne Amacher. Many tapes belonged to Amacher and this one has been recently digitized. At once both transfixing and boring, drips, drops, exhalations and whirs gently punctuate its thirty-five minutes, though nearly half its duration offers little more than hiss-filled stasis - near silence - perhaps, 'almost nothing'.

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The 15th of december, ∏node and guests will perform the infamous Golem at the Tsonami festival in Valparaiso. The Golem is a performance where we use the radio medium and Internet infrastructure as an instrument.
Multiple sound streams feed into each other forming a collective signal, a chain reaction of connection delays, data alterations, feedback loops and signal transformations. Little by little the feed becomes alive and starts to have a life of it's own.

For this performance for the Tsonami festival 2020 we'll make a special version of the Golem using sounds of social and political struggles from South America, North America, Asia, Middle East and Europe. An interpenetration of our local movements, demonstrations, and confrontations with State repression, in order to create and share a global multilingual soundtrack for struggle, a sonic contagion that will spread across radio waves, penetrate the cables that connect us and seep through the membranes of your speakers...

Let's create a global sonic artefact that unifies our struggles!

This Global Riot Golem will take place on the evening of 15th Dec for one hour at 23h UTC
Listen on p-node.org online or on the radio waves of

18h (EST) Wave Farm - New York

20h (CLST) Radio Tsonami - Valparaiso

00h (CET) ∏node - Paris/Mulhouse

Archive of the performance :
Your browser does not support the audio tag.

With participations of : LoVid, Felix Blume, Sarah Brown, Valentina Vuksic, Juliedesk, Nicolas Montgermont, Grcn, Julien Clauss, b01, Pali Meursault, Fiona Lee, Ingvar Lundberg, DinahBird, Dave Philips, CrocheOreilleMondiale, Stéphane Montavon, Carl.Y, Wave Farm, Isabelle Mornat, Billy Bao, TsonamiValparaiso-Fernando.
More about Tsonami festival
More about the GOLEM

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Global Riot Golem | Tsonami festival 2020

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The 15th of december, ∏node and guests will perform the infamous Golem at the Tsonami festival in Valparaiso. The Golem is a performance where we use the radio medium and Internet infrastructure as an instrument. Multiple sound streams feed into each other forming a collective signal, a chain reaction of connection delays, data alterations, feedback loops and signal transformations.

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Radio Tsonami es un proyecto colaborativo de experimentación radial en torno a las posibilidades del sonido y de la palabra como herramienta de comunicación social y exploración artística.

Contacto: radiotsonami@gmail.com

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Radio Tsonami es un proyecto colaborativo de experimentación radial en torno a las posibilidades del sonido y de la palabra como herramienta de comunicación social y exploración artística. Contacto: radiotsonami@gmail.com

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Radia radio art network

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"Breaking news: a severe snow storm is headed this way. There have been multiple closures on I 76 and if you're headed that way please be safe..."
There's a snow storm headed your way. From the car speakers, the weather forecast calls for bad weather coming. The driver, whose name we do not know, is returning or heading to or from an undisclosed destination. A night show is aired, it might be a local radio she or he has just tuned in; its show host, while meditatively lingering around big topics like time, nature, human vs nature... acknowledges the driver directly - not to the metaphorical driver out there, the invisible listener - and points out different moments that happen outside of the vehicle for the driver to perceive.

During this night drive, the weather begins to pick up and change into a snow storm. With it, strange and anonymous voices are heard in the backdrop, bringing back distant sounds and moments in time that don't seem to add up...

via archive.org

Joe Cimino is an Italian American visual artist, musician and producer living and working between New Jersey (USA), and Florence (Italy). Growing up traveling back and forth from the United States to Italy, he holds on to his dual cultural identity and which remains present in his artistic practice. He holds a BFA in studio art from Rowan University and is currently in the middle of his MFA in studio art at Studio Arts College International, Florence Italy. Besides his visual arts career, Joe works as a producer and electronic musician, with his music located on Soundcloud. He is also the producer and co host of the Podcast, The Uncanny County Museum.

In the last five months Joe has been working with Radio Papesse and while The Midnight Drive was produced, a specific aesthetic emerged. The central plot builds up expectations that are never fulfilled: what are we listening to? what's the story? what's happening and when is it happening? Joe plays around with the language and the tropes of both radio and podcast and but things never sounds how how are expected to. Something is always off...

It is in what Joe calls the peripheries of The Midnight Drive that the story lies. This is an invitation to not only pay attention to what's in front, but what is also happening in the background.

The Midnight Drive is a four part series and this Radia Show includes the first two episodes of it. To listen to the piece in its entirety: www.radiopapesse.org

Winter shades - Ecosons Étude II: Ecological Radio Artwork

Director, Field Recordings and Sound Design: Sam Erpelding
Speaker: Katrin (MacBook Pro - British english voice)
Performers: different Soundscapes around Luxembourg
[Pétange, Lasauvage, Prënzebierg, Garnich, Grass, Clemency, Bauschleiden]

Concept:
In a visually shaped world, little attention is often paid to the acoustic environment. However, hearing is a vital sense that serves not only for recognition, categorization, monitoring, and surviving, but also for the perception of sound-aesthetic phenomena and eco-sensitive obstacles
in real space. Thus, with the help of sound art, abstractions can be guided into real space and certain focal points can be reformulated from the real to the abstract world.
With the help of a directional and a contact microphone, various soundscapes in south- and northwestern Luxembourg were recorded in December 2020 and January 2021, and the sound signature unique to each location was crystallized. In essence, it seeks to examine the correlation between biodiversity quality and soundscape quality, as well as to highlight the essential characteristics of naturally left and human-modified spaces. In this way, the listener is left to draw his or her own conclusions and is thus made to think and listen.
Sam Erpelding is a sound-artist and sound-engineer based in Luxembourg and in Vienna. He studied computermusic, digital media technologies and sound-engineering in Austria. Under the pseudonym ´Dankwart`, Sam produces electroacoustic and electronic music as well as radio-art.
His compositions are based on soundscape research, field recordings, and computermusic strategies.

https://dankwart.bandcamp.com/
https://soundcloud.com/dankwart
https://www.facebook.com/SamErpeldingDankwart/
https://www.instagram.com/sam_dankwart_erpelding/

Artist: L'Impero della Luce
Submitted soundwork: Into the Gray forest

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L'Impero della Luce / The Empire of Light is an Italian experimental music duo that explores the sounds of electric current by using the technique of electromagnetic induction. This particular approach to music allows the listener to get closer to the sound of the electron, the physical and historical source of electronic music.
"Il Mare di Dirac " / The Dirac Sea (2020) is their first album.
From 2020, L'Impero della Luce is part of Key Change European Project and endorser of SOMA Laboratory.
L'Impero della Luce is: Johann Merrich and eeviac.

http://www.imperodellaluce.com
https://imperodellaluce.bandcamp.com/releases

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SOUNDWORK
Into the Gray forest
This oniric improvisation​ was recorded in 2018 and published in July 2020 by Obsolete Capitalism and Stefano Oliva as supplement of ​La Deleuziana​: Rhythm, Chaos and Nonpulsed Man magazine (10th volume celebration).

Usmaradio - Centro di Ricerca Interdipartimentale per la Radiofonia (CRIR) / Interdepartmental Research Centre for Radio Studies, a workplace of The School of Radio to develop an innovative radio pedagogy. Workshops, work sessions, meetings, presentations of live performance as sections of the project. Produced by UNIRSM | Università degli Studi della Repubblica di San Marino.
usmaradio.org / theschoolofradio.org / unirsm.sm

Interpreter: Samia Nasser

Graphic design: David Oppenheim

Time in isolation has turned into an amorphous mass. Repetitive housebound activities render even the most well-organised of us struggling to keep track of time. Desperately seeking to extract an iota of excitement, mundane occurrences are seen in new light. With a pair of Cageian ears and through the assistance of trusty intoxicants, the busy street by the window turns into a clamorous symphony; each vehicle becomes a distinct instrument, with their different tyres, transmissions, and powertrains inducing unique timbres within this accidental composition.

Parahrono is part artistic expression, part reassurance; as long as vehicles are passing through, the world is yet to collapse. Focusing on the sound, the mind plays its usual tricks. Time becomes distorted; rhythms gallop alike drunken louts, textures intertwine in their frantic pursuit for attachment. The mundane becomes superb, and vice versa. Queens Drive in Childwall was recorded through the windows of a ground floor flat, the composer's own isolated bubble. A pair of condenser microphones are poking through the blinds, and another pair of contacts attached to the glass, itself now a resonator, victim to the violent gusts of air blown by the passing vehicles. As long as vehicles are passing through, the world is yet to collapse. https://manolimoriaty.com

There were many Dada's. They have inhabited different cities, were named with many names, some were left unknown, others nameless. Borderlessness is written all over Dada's body. She is not offended and she makes offenses. Directing infinity back to its own beginnings makes Dada capable of recurrently establishing clarity. Crossing and dismantling sense out of borders and limits - we know them as obstacles, as constraints, as objects to walk over, dodge and evade. For its destruction and digestion we need Dada that takes the principle of "kakortedragost" ("asyouplease" - the concept of Dragan Aleksić) to break through the ingrained structures of power.

RADADAR: a multimedia digestive circuit performative installation took place on 17th December 2020 in Ljubljana, Slovenia as an annual event of Radio Student's open radio (art-theory) investigative platform RADAR ( www.radiostudent.si/radar), hosted by Cirkulacija2, a basement echo chamber residing below the city's main street. Trespassing the hours of the official curfew that the residents of the city must obey, the circuit comes to life. It is being fed by a messy archive of photo slides. Memories from another time are being chewed, consumed, processed, transformed and mutated. Humans along with analog and digital machines intervene into the past. Artefacts are being dragged out of the abyss of oblivion. Their materiality serves as a point of departure, the exit strategy is a creation of an experience for everyone and everything involved. The comment section of the website was being read by a synthetic voice, directly feeding comments into the circuit. The audience intervened and dadaised. The memories were calling for a situated reconfiguration.

In the RADIA show #821 you can hear only a snippet of the whole circuitry. At the time of the event was streamed live on air (FM 89,3MHz) and online (see archive here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eMr0MyFzND4).

Concept was created by Mojca Zupančič and Tisa Neža Herlecin collaboration with Urška Savič, Sašo Puckovski, Luka Seliškar, Anja Hrovatič, Borut Savski, Stefan Doepner, Ana Lorger, Saša Hajzler, Kristina Pranjić and Matej Kavčič. (Arte)facts were given by mommy Annie, daddy Urosh and dear godmother, scenocollages by Matija Drobne - Maco. Tehnical support was provided by Jurij Podgoršek, Linč and the RTVŠ crew. Special thanks to Cirkulacija2, Blaž Božič and Bojan Anđelković!

A homage to the 100 years of the Dada Fair (Berlin, 1920) and to Modri kot.

https://archive.org/details/radiaS45E820_usefulradio_jeffkolar_wavefarm
Useful Radio is a new radio mix focused on radio voices, citizen listening, and the intimacy of signals. Featuring collaborations with Joe Jeffers, Anna Friz, and Zeena Parkins. Track listing in order or appearance: Untitled by Jeff Kolar; Creepy Tipi by Joe Jeffers and Jeff Kolar; Far Gone by Jeff Kolar; Useful Radio by Anna Friz and Jeff Kolar; Hooking by Zeena Parkins and Jeff Kolar; and Prologue by Zeena Parkins and Jeff Kolar.

This work was commissioned by Wave Farm for the durational broadcast event Christof Migone's You- taking place on December 12, 2020.

https://archive.org/embed/radia-s-45-n-819-radio-smell-by-teafm
Smell UK:*/ˈsmɛl/US:/smɛl/ ,(smel)verb (used with object), smelled or smelt, smell·ing.
The past form "smelt" is mainly used in UK English. It is correct in US English, but rare.

1. to perceive the odor or scent of through the nose by means of the olfactory nerves; inhale the odor of:
I smell something burning.

2. to test by the sense of smell:
She smelled the meat to see if it was fresh.

verb (used without object), smelled or smelt, smell·ing.

1. to perceive something by its odor or scent.

2. to search or investigate (followed by around or about).

noun

1. the sense of smell; faculty of smelling.

2. the quality of a thing that is or may be smelled; odor; scent.

RADIO BROADCASTING. It is a transmission of audio (sound), sometimes with related metadata, by radio waves intended to reach a wide audience. ... Stations are often affiliated with a radio network which provides content in a common radio format, either in broadcast syndication or simulcast or both.

FRAGRANCE - a sweet or pleasant odour. heady - strongly aromatic, pungent, rich, intoxicating, spicy, piquant - not a mild smell. heavy - a sweet and strong smell. intoxicating - A smell that exhilarates, disorients, or excites. laden - a literary word that describes a strong smell.

This is a radio show produced in the Creative Radio Production and Broadcast Course at TEA FM Radio Workshop in November 2020.

What do invisible sounds fancy?

by Philippe Petit

" One morning when I woke up I heard a sound that I could not recognize, consequently I wondered about its origin, its existence and its possible correspondences. Our perception of a sound or a music is not the same if we can locate its source, see how it is produced, by what, by whom and therefore I wanted to compose a soundtrack retracing the imaginary of what the sounds we do not hear would do if meeting those which are invisible to us. How do we perceive the sounds we don't see and how do we see the sounds we don't hear?

A play of frequencies, timbres or tessitura, prompting the listener to wonder how the sound-object was sculpted... The mystery remains whole and of little importance in our journey. "

Philippe Petit / November 2020 - Recorded on a BUCHLA 200 system.
www.philippepetit.info
" Un matin au réveil j'entendais un son que je ne parvenais pas à reconnaître, du coup je m'interrogeais sur sa provenance, son existence et ses possibles correspondences. Notre perception d'un son ou d'une musique n'est pas la même si on peut en localiser la source, voir comment il est produit, par quoi, par qui et donc j'ai voulu composer une bande-son retraçant l'imaginaire de ce que feraient les sons que nous n'entendons pas au milieu de ceux qui nous sont invisibles. Comment percevons nous les sons que nous ne voyons pas et comment voyons-nous les sons que nous n'entendons pas?

Jeu de fréquences, de timbres ou tessitures, poussant l'auditeur à se demander comment ce son était sculpté... Le mystère reste entier et de peu d'importance dans notre voyage. "

Philippe Petit / November 2020 - Enregistré sur un système 200 BUCHLA.
www.philippepetit.info
Water Saus is an audio work by Ash Kilmartin and Lili Huston-Herterich, produced during the development of their collaborative exhibition of the same title. The work began as the sketch of an invented character-a poet who writes in the shower, as a way to compose (in) privacy-but transformed into a journal of writing and making together. The recordings travel across Rotterdam, from one studio to another to home and back again, as the artists chat, eat, piss, sing in the shower, make moulds for soap, and compare playlists and book collections.

Lili Huston-Herterich is an American-Canadian artist who runs the project space Available & The Rat in her apartment. Ash Kilmartin is an artist from Aotearoa New Zealand and the founder of a shop called LIFE. They both live in Rotterdam.

This is a Radio Worm/Klangendum production.

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"Breaking news: a severe snow storm is headed this way. There have been multiple closures on I 76 and if you're headed that way please be safe..." There's a snow storm headed your way. From the car speakers, the weather forecast calls for bad weather coming.

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Please update your browser to the latest version. This player should work in all current versions of Chrome, Firefox, Safari and IE.

CURRENT TRACK:

PREVIOUS TRACKS:
DOWNLOAD .m3u MORE INFO

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Please update your browser to the latest version. This player should work in all current versions of Chrome, Firefox, Safari and IE. CURRENT TRACK: PREVIOUS TRACKS: DOWNLOAD .m3u MORE INFO

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Radio Revolten book of radio artists - download for free!

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Radio Revolten book of radio artists - download for free!

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week 10 case study

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2007

Earth-Moon-Earth (E.M.E.) radio is a form of transmission whereby messages are sent in Morse code from Earth, reflected off the surface of the Moon, and then received back on Earth. The Moon reflects only part of the information back: some is absorbed in its shadows or lost in its craters.

For this work, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata was translated into Morse code and sent to the Moon. Returning to Earth fragmented by the Moon's surface, this historical composition was then re-translated into a new score, the gaps and absences becoming intervals and rests. The "Moon-altered" piece is played on an automated grand piano.

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2007 Earth-Moon-Earth (E.M.E.) radio is a form of transmission whereby messages are sent in Morse code from Earth, reflected off the surface of the Moon, and then received back on Earth. The Moon reflects only part of the information back: some is absorbed in its shadows or lost in its craters.

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shortwave radio listening platform

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Wide-band WebSDR in Enschede, the Netherlands

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On this page you can listen to and control a short-wave receiver located at the amateur radio club
ETGD at the
University of Twente.
In contrast to other web-controlled receivers, this receiver can be tuned by multiple
users simultaneously, thanks to the use of Software-Defined Radio.

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week 10 case study

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Robert Rauschenberg 1955-1959: Monogram

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Monogram (1955-59) belongs to the series of Combines that Rauschenberg made between 1954 and 1964. A term coined by Rauschenberg, Combines merged aspects of painting and sculpture to become an entirely new artistic category. Art critic Leo Steinberg observed that the orientation of the Combines challenged the traditional concept of the picture plane as an extension of the viewers space, providing a window into another reality. Instead, Steinberg argued, a Combine is like a tabletop or bulletin board-a "receptor surface on which objects are scattered, on which data is entered." Rauschenberg had seen the stuffed Angora goat-the focus of Monogram-in the window of a secondhand office-furniture store on Seventh Avenue in New York. Paying fifteen dollars toward the asking price of thirty-five dollars, Rauschenberg brought the goat to his studio, and before its completion in 1959, Monogram evolved through three states documented in drawings and photographs. The title is derived from the union of the goat and tire, which reminded Rauschenberg of the interweaving letters in a monogram.

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Monogram | Robert Rauschenberg Foundation

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Monogram (1955-59) belongs to the series of Combines that Rauschenberg made between 1954 and 1964. A term coined by Rauschenberg, Combines merged aspects of painting and sculpture to become an entirely new artistic category. Art critic Leo Steinberg observed that the orientation of the Combines challenged the traditional concept of the picture plane as an extension of the viewers space, providing a window into another reality.

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Week 10 follow up reading pp. 133- 203

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week 10 case study

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A Matter of Life and Death (Introduction Scene)

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Optional reading week 10

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Ximena Alarcón introduces the history and practice of Telematic Sonic Performance, which she broadly defines as a performance playing with words and sounds between people in distant locations using the Internet.

Part one explores the history, context, and practices of Telematic Sonic Performance
Part two looks at the technical elements of performing telematically, including software.

My intention is to open routes for the reader to start experimenting either with music making, for listening between distant locations using sonic improvisation, conversation, telepresence, or for exploring any performative aspect through this medium.

The pioneer composer Pauline Oliveros, introducing her Tele-musical Performances which she created since 1991 asked " Why would anyone care to perform music between distant locations? ". This once futuristic question, now has more immediate answers contextualized in our global historical confinement: many people suddenly have become interested in this art, which has been until now part of a relatively small community.

I would like to invite you to think why would you like to connect with others creatively using sound between distant locations, at this historical time.

Names: Telematic, Networked, Transmission, Relational, Distributed Last Names: Music, Sound, Sonic, Performance, New Media Performance Art, Listening

While sound artists, musicians, and new media and performing artists share the practice of performing in the distance with sounds and also visuals, via the Internet or radio, each practice might call this experience differently and explore it according to its artistic intentions.

John Cage's Imaginary Landscape No 4 (1951), a composition for 24 performers and 12 transistor radios, and Max Neuhaus' Public Supply (1966) -a mix of calls coming into ten telephones through WBAI radio station in New York-are key historical moments in sound art. They brought political ideas of democratic listening in two directions. In Computer Music, The Hub, a Computer Network Music Ensemble formed in 1986, became a historical reference, for collaborative music making using networked computers with their own hardware and software designs.

MUSIC

Since late 90's and with high-speed Internet network, one encounters the practice of Telematic Music Performance, or Networked Music Performance. Eric Lemmon suggests that " telematic music will be designated as a musical practice that is more overt in its political and social goals, while networked music is conceived more broadly and focuses on the mobilization of a certain kind of technology for music making."

One of the first challenges for musicians using the Internet network to perform is the delay of incoming and outgoing signals. To offer an idea of representative works in telematic music and how the medium "feels", you could listen to Terry Riley's "In C" taken to the telematic medium by Rob Hamilton and Juan Pablo Cáceres in 2009. They use Jacktrip strategically to solve the perception of delay, in this piece where musicians need to synchronize.

Trying to merge physical and virtual realities and questioning feelings and needs for embodiment, other musicians have used platforms such as Second Life helped by 3D visuals. A key example is the piece Rotating Brain Beating Hearts (2010) a collaboration featuring Pauline Oliveros, the Avatar Orchestra (Tina Pearson, Norman Lowrey, Andreas Müller), and Stelarc. Their intention is the synchronization of " bodies, sounds, images, lights, texts in real-time. "

Intentions in the making of telematic music go further than playing together and suggest that this is an artistic form that brings together people across the world to balance their social representation in music making. For instance, Nela Brown's Female Laptop Orchestra, bringing together women to play across the globe, and the Ethernet Orchestra, led by Roger Mills and which performs inter-cultural improvisation, are interesting current examples of this extended intention.

In the present context of the Covid-19 pandemic, seminal works of Pauline Oliveros have been performed, bringing more than 500 people together (musicians and not musicians) through listening and sounding across the globe, in the World Wide Tuning meditation. New generations of composers also bring electronic music making which benefits of the low demand of streaming data producing midi sounds, such as composer Shelly Knotts, who also organises the Network Music Festival, or the online-based platform Estuary, which permits musicians to play using live coding.

Composers such as Sarah Weaver have conducted research and composition for the telematic medium and her work brings together musicians and artists in NowNet Arts: the first organisation promoting and researching networked and telematic music for social change.

SOUND ARTS

The radiophonic experience of transmission in terms of live unidirectional streaming, has found a way for connecting urban and rural locations across the world in yearly events such as , to experience 24 hours of streaming from distant locations. People all over the world position open mics, using Raspberry Pi's and mobile apps such as LiveShout, to experience "distributed listening." Streams can be heard through Soundmap, a platform developed by the organisation Locus Sonus.

Franziska Schroeder suggests that in the networked medium performers experience networked listening, in which the body is performing as if it was "in an in-between state". There is a de-centering of performers' attention, in her own words:

In my own work, I have explored listening to the in-between sonic space, a liminal space where we might locate and connect between memories of place, in the context of geographical migration. For six years I created the series of telematic sonic performances Networked Migrations, using bidirectional audio streaming technologies and incorporating unidirectional streaming. I used Deep Listening practice with improvisers, and through it I witnessed the emergence of migratory narratives improvising with letters, words, languages, dreams, pre-recorded sounds, and live streaming from urban spaces.

As a result, people raised awareness of their multidimensional condition as migrants connecting to themselves (memories and dreams), to others who are physically close, and to the ones that are distant, mediated by telematic technologies and sound. I have called this experience relational listening, which brings the relationality of migratory aesthetics, and stimulates connections to be made while in dislocation, leading to transformation of feelings and healing. In my last project INTIMAL, I have specifically created a system of interfaces for relational listening in telematic sonic performances, exploring sense of place and the feeling of presence in migratory contexts. I am interested in creating an embodied dream-like space connecting physical and virtual spaces. Within the connection, I am interested in inviting one's body to move, detaching from the screen-based interface, walking as in exploring physical place with others, and at the same time, feeling tele-presence connecting with the ones that are far, in the distance, with the transmission and sonification of breathing data.

NEW MEDIA PERFORMANCE ART

New Media and performance artists have questioned the medium and explored telepresence, embodiment, intimacy and mixed realities, focusing on the use of video and other forms of multimodal transmission. Key examples are Paul Sermon's Telematic Dreaming (1992), using ISDN digital telephone network for video transmission connecting two different rooms in which people share a bed telematically. It questioned trust, revealing emotions such as pleasure which make us experience intimacy, and pain and violence that make us feel detached of the projected image of the body.

More recently, Distant Feelings, a series by Annie Abrahams (with Lisa Parra and Daniel Pinheiro), invites people to be together, in a video-conferencing platform " eyes closed, not talking." This is interesting from the perspective of listening and being with others across the distance with non-verbal communication, and without intended body movement and gestures. Roger Mills and the Ethernet Orchestra explore presence in Distant Presences (2007) using sounds and moving image in the Visitors Studio platform by Furtherfield. Artist Helen Varley Hamieson embraces feelings between distant locations in her last work Love Letters (2020), developing and using the multimodal free platform Upstage.

Thus, artistic intentions embrace the choice and creation of technologies of audio and audiovisual transmission as well as its challenges. In my experience, any encounter with these telematic technologies shapes and usually "dislocates" any pre-conceived ideas of sounding, listening, presence and collaborating with others.
Dr Ximena Alarcón is a sound artist interested in listening to in-between sonic spaces in the context of human migration. Since 2012, Ximena has practiced the making of telematic sonic improvisatory performances with people sharing experiences of migration all over the world. She includes Deep Listening® practice and improvisation, as forms of expanding the perception of place, space, time, identities and narratives, using a wide range of technologies. Ximena has collaborated with sound artists, musicians and performance artists, exploring possibilities and challenges of this medium. She is a Sound Artist Researcher and Project Leader of INTIMAL Project, and teaches Deep Listening practice using online and physical locations.

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Telematic Sonic Performance Part 1: A short introduction - The Sampler

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Ximena Alarcón introduces the history and practice of Telematic Sonic Performance, which she broadly defines as a performance playing with words and sounds between people in distant locations using the Internet. Part one explores the history, context, and practices of Telematic Sonic Performance Part two looks at the technical elements of performing telematically, including software.

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The hugely popular recording is now available on CD or to download for the first time since its initial broadcast on BBC Radio 4 in 1997. The documentary was well loved by listeners young and old, reflected in the decision to use it as an official representative for the BBC's 90 by 90, marketed as 'the biggest broadcasting event in our 90 year history.'The documentary was an incredibly special broadcast that embodied the essence of radio as a medium capable of captivating the imagination. The programme received critical acclaim from an array of different listeners claiming a varied list of emotions. Some gained resounding insight into how life is experienced by the blind, some gained religious inspiration and some were given the gift of realising how important it is to value life and exercise gratitude. . (Please DO NOT post or print the website address). CDs are also available by request. First broadcast in 1997 by BBC R4, Touching the Elephant takes listeners on an emotional, insightful and sensory journey into the experiences of four blind people touching and feeling an elephant for the first time. The program is based on an ancient Indian story that has gained multiple meanings and interpretations over the years. The broadcast is now available as CD and for download on Amazon and iTunes. Beloved BBC Documentary Bought Back To Liferecording is now available on CD or to download for the first time since its initial broadcast on BBC Radio 4 in 1997. The documentary was well loved by listeners young and old, reflected in the decision to use it as an official representative for the BBC's 90 by 90, marketed as 'the biggest broadcasting event in our 90 year history.'The documentary was a life affirming broadcast that embodied the essence of radio as a medium capable of captivating the imagination. The programme received critical acclaim from an array of different listeners claiming a varied list of emotions. Some gained resounding insight into how life is experienced by the blind, some gained religious inspiration and some were given the gift of realising how important it is to value life and exercise gratitude. . (Please do not post or print the website address). CDs are also available by request. First broadcast in 1997 by BBC R4, Touching the Elephant takes listeners on an emotional, insightful and sensory journey into the experiences of four blind people touching and feeling an elephant for the first time. The program is based on an ancient Indian story that has gained multiple meanings and interpretations over the years. The broadcast is now available as CD and for download on Amazon and iTunes. 'Touching the Elephant'

The much anticipated re-release of the recording means everyone has an opportunity to experience one of the most emotional broadcasts in BBC recording history.

John Humphries of the Today Programme is also an avid fan, describing the broadcast as

The revival of the programme is a wonderful chance for the public to relive the famous broadcast and introduce the recording to those who did not have the opportunity to tune in to BBC R4 at the time. New opinions and interpretations will in turn be formed, allowing 'Touching the Elephant' to continue its celebrated status as one of the most fascinating documentaries ever to be broadcast on radio. http://www.rockethouse.co.uk/Elephant/

The public can buy CDs or downloads at
The programme's idea comes from an ancient Indian fable about a group of blind men who undergo a first time encounter with an elephant. As the men cannot see it, they use the sense of touch to establish what it could be. The man feeling the elephant's leg suggests it may be a pillar while the man touching the tusk suggests it is a spear. There are age-old debates as to the meaning of the story, some interpreting it as an illustration of the benefits of shared knowledge while others think it shows humans can never agree on anything. In this radio version it was truly fascinating when the experiment was repeated in a modern day scenario and four blind people were introduced to the majestic animal. The four participants, a child, a female guide dog trainer, an IT expert and a piano tuner, were taken to London Zoo and were able to meet and touch an elephant with their own hands. It was a humbling and poignant radio moment, the excitement of delight of the participants pulling at the heartstrings of all who were listening. The Bishop of Bath and Wells was one of many to praise the event, saying 'The ecstasy of touching the elephant sounded like the ecstasy of touching the hem of God's garment.' Journalists can listen to the full 25' 'Touching the Elephant' at a press page , or About Touching the Elephant:

The hugely popular 'Touching the Elephant'

The much anticipated re-release of the recording means everyone has an opportunity to experience one of the most emotional broadcasts in BBC recording history.

John Humphries of the Today Programme is also an avid fan, describing the broadcast as

The revival of the programme is a wonderful chance for the public to relive the famous broadcast and introduce the recording to those who did not have the opportunity to tune in to BBC R4 at the time. New opinions and interpretations will in turn be formed, allowing 'Touching the Elephant' to continue its celebrated status as one of the most fascinating documentaries ever to be broadcast on radio. http://www.rockethouse.co.uk/Elephant/

The public can buy CDs or downloads at
The programme's idea comes from an ancient Indian fable about a group of blind men who undergo a first time encounter with an elephant. As the men cannot see it, they use the sense of touch to establish what it could be. The man feeling the elephant's leg suggests it may be a pillar while the man touching the tusk suggests it is a spear. There are age-old debates as to the meaning of the story, some interpreting it as an illustration of the benefits of shared knowledge while others think it shows humans can never agree on anything. In this radio version it was truly fascinating when the experiment was repeated in a modern day scenario and four blind people were introduced to the majestic animal. The four participants, a child, a female guide dog trainer, an IT expert and a piano tuner, were taken to London Zoo and were able to meet and touch an elephant with their own hands. It was a humbling and poignant radio moment, the excitement of delight of the participants pulling at the heartstrings of all who were listening. The Bishop of Bath and Wells was one of many to praise the event, saying 'The ecstasy of touching the elephant sounded like the ecstasy of touching the hem of God's garment.' Journalists can listen to the full 25' 'Touching the Elephant' at a press page , or About Touching the Elephant:

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touching the elephant | Rockethouse Productions Ltd

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The hugely popular recording is now available on CD or to download for the first time since its initial broadcast on BBC Radio 4 in 1997.

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Collaborative broadcast to be aired here in week 15

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Collaborative broadcast to be aired here in week 15

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11:00am - 11:30am

Radia, the international group of independent cultural radio stations, presents a new show realised by one of its members, exploring "new and forgotten ways of making radio. Today: Show 818: What do invisible sounds fancy? by Visit Philippe Petit (Radio Panik). "One morning when I woke up I heard a sound that I could not recognize, consequently I wondered about its origin, its existence and its possible correspondences. Our perception of a sound or a music is not the same if we can locate its source, see how it is produced, by what, by whom and therefore I wanted to compose a soundtrack retracing the imaginary of what the sounds we do not hear would do if meeting those which are invisible to us. How do we perceive the sounds we don't see and how do we see the sounds we don't hear? A play of frequencies, timbres or tessitura, prompting the listener to wonder how the sound-object was sculpted... The mystery remains whole and of little importance in our journey." Philippe Petit, November 2020. Recorded on a BUCHLA 200 system. radia.fm for more information.

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11:00am - 11:30am Radia, the international group of independent cultural radio stations, presents a new show realised by one of its members, exploring "new and forgotten ways of making radio. Today: Show 818: What do invisible sounds fancy? by Visit Philippe Petit (Radio Panik).