Progress report

Oh my. Summer’s over, school’s begun and scholarship is in. It’s time to start paying myself to work on my thesis.

In Thesis Development class today, I was supposed to present a progress report; we ran out of time before my turn, so it goes here instead. I was a bit apprehensive about this presentation, as there’s not a lot of actual progress to show. The summer’s been spent trying to put away money (and failing) and trying to clear away some mental and physical space in anticipation of getting to work. It’s been a good exercise to just sit down and write out what’s on my mind, thesis-wise, and try and put it in some kind of logical order somebody else might understand.

So the question I need to answer (after I answer, “what have you done this summer?”) is: “Now that you’ve been doing this for a year, what is your thesis about, and what are you doing with it?”

My answer, as of 3pm today, looks like this:

My thesis project explores the work of reading and what happens when medium and technology take on some of the responsibilities traditionally assumed by the reader. This is my “cocktail description” – what I’d tell somebody at a cocktail party.

The un-cocktail elaboration on the above:

To varying degrees, the medium we use always affects the information we’re trying to convey. This is no great discovery. Sometimes the effect is subtle, and sometimes, like in Thomas Ruff’s JPEGs, it is so much more present that the work becomes as much about the medium as it is about the content. There’s a narrative, there’s a story being told, by the foregrounding of the mechanics.

What I’m interested in is the effect this has on the process of reading. The responsibility for the work of reading becomes displaced, or shared by the various agents of the communication. These days, technology plays a really big part in this displacement, and I find what happens as a result really interesting. Especially in art, the idea that these super-fast, very complex systems that are still at their core unable to really do anything with “meaning” are helping us with some of the heavy lifting of understanding is fascinating, and a great deal of fun.

My goal is to reflect this process and make something beautiful out of it.

Art that talks about this stuff

(I’m veering towards using the term “Literature review” but I want to be careful with that term)

Roee Rosen – The Confessions of Roee Rosen: Hito Steyerl showed us this in class last year. It’s an “advertisement” for The Confessions of Roee Rosen. In this video, an Israeli boy reads the entire English script phonetically, having no idea what he’s saying. (This is what we’re told – I have no idea whether or not it’s actually true.) What I love about it is how it highlights one of the steps in the mechanics of reading. At some point in the process, our brains have to do exactly the same thing – spell out the words so we can then figure out what they’re supposed to mean.

Jessica Field: Jessica Field is one of the first artists that got me thinking about the mechanics of understanding. The robots I’ve seen taht she’s built are concerned with trying to turn perception into understanding. What’s remarkable is how successful they are based on a relatively small set of instructions.

Kristan Horton – OracleThis is a piece, again, explicitly about reading. Kristan Horton built a system that turns audiobooks back into real books using speech recognition software. He uses this to retranscribe the Oddysey.

Where it’s at right now

If you have a pulse and you’ve stood still near me for more than about 5 minutes anytime during the past 6 months, you’ve heard about my photo project from last year, Every Face in the Americans. Currently, it’s the center of my thesis project.

iPhoto’s face recognition feature is designed to help us deal with the staggering amount of visual documentation we have in our lives. When you add an image to your iPhoto library, the program automatically looks for faces, and stores anything it finds in hidden files on your computer. It then offers to help you attach names to faces so you can see all of your pictures of your mom, or your friend Dave, or your cat. My book is the result of adding scans of Robert Frank’s The Americans to my iPhoto library.

Like Roee Rosen’s “victims”, iPhoto is acting out the mechanics of reading, without an awareness of the significance of what it’s saying. It’s using math to find faces, just as the boy is using phonetics to read English words, but has no understanding of the context from which it’s pulling these pictures.

Next

The next step, for me, is to try and use these images as sources for some kind of sound piece. I’m slowly writing some software that analyzes the images and produces data in structures that I can use as the basis for sound work (music!). This is in its early stages, so I’m short on details. Essentially, the idea is to create my own “reader” to do a bit more dumb interpretation on the photos, then use that reading as a starting point in composition. I’m also slowly warming to the idea of using geographical information. All of the photos in Frank’s book are labeled by place – often, that’s the only information he gives. It’ll be interesting to see what it looks like on a map and then in music.

Format

I’m currently considering three possibilities for presentation:

  1. a photo/sound installation: I’m beginning to print my thumbnails, and they look awesome enlarged. Not sure I can afford the whole book at that size, and wall space might be a problem. I may try them on the wall at 8×8, as they are in my book.
  2. a video piece with a focus on sound
  3. an expansion of the book to include a sound component: Right now, this is my favourite. The book would be my original book, plus a supplementary book including code, writing (as in, my thesis paper) and a CD of the recordings. How do I exhibit this publicly though?

I’m going to start updating this pretty regularly. This is the first time I’ve written this out since the spring, and it’s helping to get ideas bouncing around again.

Shuffle

Christine just wrote about a project we’d conceived earlier this year called Shuffle. She’d set out plans to get three projects done this year, and this is the last one, so the pressure’s now on. You can read bits of our grant applications (which were rejected) in her post, but the general idea is more or less as follows:

Christine and I both have a bit of trouble fleshing out ideas – I’ve got a lot of little snippets of song kicking around that are lovely but unlikely to grow into full pieces. So instead of recording a regular 8-10 song album, we’re going to record 40 or 50 little snippets of music – just single ideas. The catch is that each track has to be able to somehow connect to any other one. You put them in your iPod and hit Shuffle, and you get a different piece of music every time.

I’m really looking forward to working on this. It’s both really creative and really geeky. Just my thing.

Nfld

Off to St John’s Newfoundland tomorrow at some ungodly hour. I’m playing with The Worst Pop Band Ever at the Wreckhouse Jazz Festival. Hoping to hook up with some friends (there are a lot of Toronto folks playing).

I’m trying to travel light, which is sort of offset by the fact that I’m packing a synth, so I’m going to be worrying about oversize/overweight/fragile checked luggage. But on top of that, I’m bringing a change of clothes, a pair of shorts, my swimsuit, my laptop, my phone and a book. Yay traveling light. Not sure I’ll ever get it. But I need all this stuff. Here’s what I’ve set out for myself, if I miraculously end up with nothing to do in St John’s:

  1. Try to understand Henri Bergson (the book: Thinking in Time by Suzanne Guerlac)
  2. Set up an iPhone/Ableton Live/Pure Data rig for some upcoming gigs with Kush
  3. Work on some stuff in Pure Data for an interactive project with Simon and Javier
  4. Find some good fish & chips

I’m pretty sure I can pull off #4.

Humble

 

Raffi - Singable songs for the very youngSince we (finally) hooked up our turntable, Raffi‘s Singable songs for the very young has been in pretty high rotation. I listened to it a lot as a little kid, and now Max is too (the same copy). It’s got amazing musicians playing on it, like Bob Doige and several Whiteleys, but this segment from the credits was lost on me as a toddler:

Dan Lanois – mandolin (side 1, no.8)/bass drum; besides performing with Ray Materick, and Sylvia Tyson, Dan likes to compose music; Dan and his brother Bob own and run MSR Productions.

Now, playing with Sylvia Tyson and Ray Materick is about as close to stardom as I could ever hope for, but oh yeah – Dan will also make brilliant records of his own and produce The Joshua Tree, Teatro, Wrecking Ball, So, a ton of of other U2 and, of course, the year after this record, More Singable Songs, another of my big childhood hits.

“Dan likes to compose music”

Lead sheet: They don’t have to be pretty

I wrote They don’t have to be pretty after hearing Dean’s Dragon one night. It’s not a comment on their appearance. They look great. They also sound amazing. They’re clearly mostly crazy.

On Monday I got to play this tune twice – once with Christine at the Tranzac and once with The Worst Pop Band Ever at the Rex. Needless to say, they were pretty different performances, and both tons of fun. One of my favourite things about writing music is what happens when other people get their hands on it and I have to relinquish some control.

Lead sheet: They don’t have to be pretty (pdf)

Listen to Christine and I play it here.

Thomas Basbøll: Teaching as a Foreign Language?

I really love reading Thomas Basbøll’s blog, Research as a Second Language. Someday I’ll write that well. Today’s post, Teaching as a Foreign Language?, hits spot-on one of the biggest challenges I face anytime I teach. I’m going to make this article required reading for every student I have next year at Sheridan:

Even our students have fallen for this new jargon. They seem more concerned about how “good” or “engaging” their teachers are than how smart or knowledgeable they are. They don’t presume that what their teachers know (precisely that which qualifies them to teach the subject) is relevant to their educational needs. They are ready to evaluate the “teaching methods” used in the course but not to think critically about the subject matter they are being taught. They presume to be able themselves to judge whether today’s lesson was too “abstract” or too “trivial”, and whether they are “learning something”. (As trained theorists increasingly attempt to impart “practical” knowledge they are less and less often satisfied, of course.) They are too easily (because too eagerly) confused by the differences of opinion they are exposed to, and forget to form an opinion of their own, except, of course, an opinion about the course and its teacher.

Exactly how I feel, but written beautifully.