documentation

given our current situation of social distancing and isolation, I have been in contact by phone more regularly with my friends. in the middle of one conversation last week, without a second thought, I asked Johannes MacDonald to hold his thought mid-sentence while I grabbed my little recorder and began to document our conversation.

in the past, whether saving emails that seem interesting as pdfs, or making notes after phone calls, it has increasingly often occurred that I should make an effort to document what might not necessarily be of interest to the world at large, but potentially be so to my/our-selfs at a later date. there’s also the chance that in re-listening to remember we might unlock a thought that allows for some creative way forward, to an insight we previously did not realise. perhaps other people might be interested, but who knows?

I have always been fascinated by interviews with composers or figures I admire, not so much for what they say specifically about composition or creative work, but more for their manner and their approach – the flowing syntax of Adorno’s reminisce of Berg, and his soft voice; Carter in discussion with Rosen, in their elegant (and differing) mid-Atlantic accents, on the harmonic-rhythmic properties of the Piano Concerto, Liza Lim in the garden amid and loving noise(s), Xenakis casually lighting Feldman’s cigarette while the latter is in mid-pour of a glass of sparkling water … all of this contributes to something “more” that to me that both breaks down the vaunted image of creation/creators to the human level, but also expands the image, and brings it closer, in the mind.

in addition to the interview here (with more to come) I have also started updating my list of works (with some in-progress, and lacking direction/performance). I suppose that is another form of documentation, both in their simple registration, in their possibility, and of course in the scores being on some level a document of their spread-out moment.