ISSUE Project Room is thrilled to host pioneering multimedia artist Joshua White and his legendary Joshua Light Show for a week of unique audiovisual collaborations. The residency will involve White’s iconic projections alongside an incredible roster of musicians, with a different musical genre represented on each night of the residency. The Joshua Light Show involves a team of video and light artists, led by White and his senior collaborator, Bec Stupak (Honeygun Labs) to improvise live synesthetic visuals behind a giant rear projection screen, involving the “liquid light” techniques he developed at Bill Graham’s Fillmore East during the late 1960s. In addition, each performance of the light show will feature contributions from a different live-cinema artist, including Seth Kirby, Zach Layton, and Mighty Robot A/V Squad. The residency is curated and produced in collaboration with Nick Hallett and concludes a month of programming at IPR devoted to the Ecstatic Moment.

May 28 ALL-STAR EXPERIMENTAL IMPROVISATION Ikue Mori (electronics), Zeena Parkins (electric harp), Lee Ranaldo (electric guitar) and Marina Rosenfeld (electronics)

May 29 NORTH INDIAN RAGA and TALA (co-presented by Chhandayan) Pandit Samir Chatterjee (tabla) and K.V. Mahabala (sitar)

May 30 FREE JAZZ with Albert-Ayler-inspired quartet, Spiritual Unity Roy Campbell (trumpet) Henry Grimes (bass), Marc Ribot (guitar), Chad Taylor (drums)

May 31 ELECTRONIC MUSIC Soft Circle (Hisham Bharoocha) and Invisible Conga People (Justin Simon, Eric Tsai)

$20 General-admission floor seating (available at the door before each concert) $30 Reserved chair seating can be arranged by email: reservations [at] issueprojectroom.org All performances begin at 8pm.

ISSUE Project Room at the (oa) can factory 232 Third Street at 3rd Ave, 3rd Floor, Brooklyn, NY 11215 F, G to Carroll; F, M, R to 9th Street-4th Ave (718) 330-0313 (venue)

For media inquiries, contact Suzanne Fiol, (718) 812-1129 (cell) For Joshua Light Show inquiries, contact Nick Hallett, nick [at] harknessav.org Images available upon request.

ISSUE Project Room’s Joshua Light Show Residency is made possible through Presentation Funds from the Experimental Television Center. The Experimental Television Center’s Presentation Funds program is supported by the New York State Council on the Arts.

The chapter discusses histories of audiovisual performance, including its ancestry in color organs, visual music filmmaking, light shows, cognitive science, and more - as well as various approaches to current practice including VJ’ing, live cinema, and digital media art performance. This one is not available online, but the book is available from the usual sources.

The Cambridge Companion to Electronic Music includes original contributions from many international artists, including Karlheinz Stockhausen and Max Mathews. Chapters introduce the reader to the history and practices of electronic music, including electroacoustic music composition, perceptual aspects and sound synthesis. Considers recent contemporary trends and promotes new movements in this continuously evolving field.

An exhibition from the curator Nicole Gingras who joins the work of two artists fascinated by light, movement and sound. Diane Morin transforms her favourite material, light, into singular shadow plays, awash in penetrating sounds. The videos of Nelly-Eve Rajotte, who is just as sensitive to the power of light and sound, create destabilising experiences which may cause some viewers to lose their spatio-temporal bearings.

Nelly-Eve Rajotte leads the viewer into a world of constantly-changing visual and sound impressions. By superimposing several layers of images and slowing down their movements as they subtly slide over each other she suggests a state of weightlessness or a feeling of vertigo. The two pieces on exhibit here are examples of this. The video Ylö (2008) is an attempt to suspend time to create a feeling of elevation. Once again, she has designed a highly-dramatic soundtrack which contributes to the perceptible yet indescribable sensation of floating or an in-between state suggested by the work’s editing. With SI IS (2008), an installation made up of two projection screens and a quadraphonic soundtrack, Nelly-Eve Rajotte continues to explore what appear to be nameless spaces. Video enables her to film sentient and intimate spaces, and here she has turned to a deserted gas station, a non-space nevertheless endowed with undeniable dream-like qualities. The images projected onto the two screens reveal to the visitor two spaces which reverberate within each other. Reflections, shadows, transparencies and superimposed images contribute to our perception of an ambiguous, altering space. In search of connections between digital images and sound, she is attracted to the movement of light on the features of buildings and anonymous spaces, which she appropriates and transforms into abstract compositions.

Diane Morin continues her exploration of animated objects of her own design, using fragments of typewriters, calculators, knitting machines, record players, toys and musical instruments as well as found objects, electronic control circuits and electroluminescent diodes. She is interested in the shadows projected by moving objects she designs, in the traces they leave in the wake of their slow movements. Desirous of giving or giving back movement to inanimate objects and interested in the way light strikes the objects she selects, Diane Morin furthers her investigation into light as a means of revelation: shadow, trace, imprint, image, form, movement. Her work Capteurs d’ombres (“Shadow Catchers”, 2006-08) is a visual and sound installation made up of various items attached to the gallery wall, each showing forms in movement: choreographies of unusual objects and shadow plays. Plunged into darkness, these kinetic sound sculptures come alive when subtly and discreetly lit by moments of flashing, twinkling or pulsing light. Sounds help lead the viewer into a space in which time appears to be suspended.

Artists biography

Diane Morin was born in the Kamouraska region of Quebec and now lives and works in Montreal. She has been creating installations since 1998, joining her work with kinetic art and new media. She obtained an M.F.A. in fine arts (studio art) from Concordia University in 2003. Her work is currently being exhibited at VU in Quebec City. In 2006, she participated in Meanderings (curated by Nicole Gingras) at DAÏMÕN and AXENÉO7 in Gatineau and in the Biennale nationale de sculpture contemporaine in Trois-Rivières. Her work has been the subject of solo exhibitions at Optica in Montreal and Mercer Union in Toronto in 2007, at Circa in Montreal in 2005 and at La chambre blanche in Quebec City in 2001, among other places.

Nelly-Eve Rajotte lives and works in Montreal. She has been a member of Perte de Signal since 2003. In 2006, she obtained an M.F.A. in visual and media arts at UQAM. She works in single-track digital video, installation and sound art. Her videos have been seen in various festivals in Canada, the United States, South America and Europe. In Montreal, her installations have been exhibited at Parisian Laundry, Fonderie Darling, the Occurrence gallery, the Clark gallery and as part of Ectoplasmes 5 x 2 (an event curated by Nicole Gingras and Eric Mattson at SAT; production : MINUTE).

Nicole Gingras lives in Montreal. She is an author and independent curator with an interest in images and sound. In 2007, she published Puisqu’à toute fin correspond – Entretiens about the work of the Montreal artist Raymond Gervais.

Schwelle is a three part new media and performance project using cutting edge acoustic and interactive technologies to explore the extreme threshold states of consciousness that constitute human experience. Schwelle II is a live performance in which the audience confronts a lone single performer Michael Schumacher, master improviser and former dancer with William Forsythe’s Frankfurt Ballet, experiencing the traumatic transition period between death and rebirth. Utilizing wireless sensor networks in the room and on the dancer’s body, Part II creates a stage environment where light and sound take on their own choreography, performing with Schumacher, breathing, and behaving alongside him. Where does the body end and the room begin? What happens in the threshold where body and room merge, mutually influencing and transforming each other?

After runs in Berlin (Tesla) and Place des Arts/Elektra (Montreal), Schwelle II will have its French premiere at the renowned Festival EXIT International, at the Maison des Arts, Creteil, in Paris.

Concept/Direction: Chris Salter in collaboration with Michael Schumacher
Performer: Michael Schumacher
Dramaturgy: Heidi Gilpin
Lighting: Leah Xiao
Interactive Lighting Design/Programming: Harry Smoak
Sound Design/Programming: Marije Baalman, Daniel Grigsby, Chris Salter,
Philip Viel
Interaction Design/Sensing/Programming: Marije Baalman
Production Technical Director: Harry Smoak
Management: Dieta Sixt

With the support of Tesla Medien Kunst Labor-Berlin, Transmediale, ACREQ, Hexagram, Concordia University, FQRSC

Eng and Linton have been working in a similar vain exploring experimental cinema and sound in the electronic arts scene in New York. This is the first collaboration between these two artists who have spent a life dedicated to observing, manipulating, pushing the limits of vision and listening. Here at Maison Populaire, they have combined their ideas of nomadic movement (Eng) with continual optical spirals (Linton). Change in the perspective of character, window, reflection of light, scale and mirroring are subjects at hand. The sensitive observer will notice the subtleties in the connection between image and sound which affects one another. Here lies the interactivity between the substances rather than the moving hand of the passerby. Using a simple set up of a digital camera, a moving glass ball, a computer with the software by Vidvox.net, and the feedback of the projected image, the viewer witnesses a process of remaking moving light and object.

Biographies

Angie Eng is a media artist who works in video, installation and time-based performance. Her current work draws from inspiration from nomadic cultures. In 1993 she moved to New York City to pursue her career in the arts. During this time she became involved in the downtown electronic arts scene and has collaborated on numerous video performance projects. She co-founded The Poool a live video performance group with Nancy Meli Walker and Benton Bainbridge in 1996-1999. Her work has been performed and exhibited at the Whitney Museum at Philip Morris, Lincoln Center Video Festival, Eyebeam Art and Technology Center, The Kitchen, New Museum of Contemporary Art, Renssalaer Polytechnic Institute, Eyebeam Art and Technology Center, Roulette Intermedium and Experimental Intermedia. Her videos have been included in digital art festivals in local and international venues in Cuba, Greece, Japan, Germany, France, Holland, Former Yugoslavia and Canada. She has received numerous grants and commissions: New Radio and Performing Arts, Harvestworks, Art In General, Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, New York State Council on the Arts, Jerome Foundation and Experimental TV Center.

With his Bicameral Research Sound & Projection System David Linton aims to make vibrational wave induced perceptual energy states manifest by deploying interconnected measures of electric sound & light in live action with hand manipulated objects in physical (live camera) space. He employs an integrated recursive audio & video feedback system of his own perversely simple design modulated by freehand intervention to deliver vigorous eye, ear, and - sometimes - body shaking realtime audio visual performances from which a kind of retro-tech animistic ritual “medicine show” emerges where subject and object blur.

Filling Vessels is a multi-channel sound and light installation / performance inspired by Alvin Lucier’s Empty Vessels. The installation is dependent on interaction with feedback generated within the installation space. It functions as an audience-navigable space in which people can explore the effects they have on the sonic and visual events that take place within it. It is also a performance environment within which musicians use their instruments to interact with and influence the resultant combinations of sound and light: Tom O’Doherty (visuals), Argeo Ascani (saxophone), Eric km Clark (violin), Aaron Meicht (trumpet), James Moore (guitar).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0yKCdpUDnE

circadia is a multi-channel installation that explores how synchronization may emerge amidst various independent bodies. Glass jars with embedded speakers are distributed throughout the room and are treated as separate bodies. The sounds they produce are generated via quiet feedback produced by each vessel. In this way, the space, and the subtle acoustical effects the audience has on that space, create shifting, delicate balances between sustained sounds and small
discrete pulses.

About Diapason: Diapason gallery for sound and intermedia was founded by composer Michael J. Schumacher and choreographer Liz Gerring in 2001 and its program builds on the efforts of Schumacher’s previous sound space, Studio Five Beekman, founded in 1996. Diapason is the sole venue in New York City and one of few internationally dedicated to the presentation of multichannel sound installation where composers and sound artists can realize their work for an interested public. By providing an optimum listening environment, two high quality multi-channel sound systems, a regular audience, and a place for experimentation, Diapason seeks to engage composers and the public in dialogue about the place of contemporary music and sound practice in a broader cultural context. Diapason is supported by NYSCA, the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, the Phaedrus Foundation, the Foundation for Contemporary Performance Arts, The Trust for Mutual Understanding, Kirk Radke, and by generous individuals. Diapason is a 501(c)3 organization.

His instrument was a wooden wine crate filled with custom-made circuitry and six joystick-like levers. Allen called his tool circuitMusic, and it emitted a throbbing, old-school sound — the sort of sound that’s often called “feedback laden” when in fact it was more like he was exploring the feedback, simultaneously navigating and lending shape to the noise. (There is additional coverage of the event, including photos, in an August 2007 disquiet.com entry.)

The music got more abstract as his set went on, and Allen’s hand-crafted instrument provided a comforting focus throughout. Each of its six joysticks was paired with a single headlight on the front of the box. That trigger system, in a highly economical manner, provided helpful signals to the audience: visual orientation amid the increasingly self-obscuring sounds. In a world of ever more powerful technology, it was downright inspiring to experience the sort of communication that could be accomplished with a simple on-off switch.

It’s no surprise that Allen’s skills in communication in regard to electronics and electronic music are not limited to stage performances. He’s taught classes in such subjects as “Performing Technology,” “New Interfaces for Musical Expression,” and “Sensor Workshop” at New York University and Pratt Institute. And after finishing up an early-2008 residency at Eyebeam in Manhattan (eyebeam.org), he’s relocating to Newcastle, England, to help start a new Masters program in Digital Arts with Atau Tanaka, formerly of Sony Paris. “The Masters,” he explained via email, “will be held in coordination with the Newcastle Culture Lab, headed up by Sally-Jane Norman.” (More info at ncl.ac.uk/culturelab.)

Allen took time recently to talk about the tool he played at Galapagos, the implications of musicians crafting their own instruments, the intersection of academia and the electronic arts, and the politics of 8bit music, among other things.

Marc Weidenbaum: When I saw you perform at Galapagos in Brooklyn last summer, you used one machine for the performance, and it was something you’d designed yourself. I’m very interested in musical instruments created by musicians. Could you describe what it was and how it functioned?

Jamie Allen: The rig you saw is a piece called “circuitMusic.” It’s really very simple — it’s a set of square waves built with raw electronic components, inside an old wine box. I have a few ways of varying resistances in the circuit — photo-resistors, force-sensitive resistors, and regular old potentiometers. Each of the square waves is coupled to a set of very bright light-emitting diode arrays, such that whenever a new oscillator is thrown in, a light comes on. There are six sound elements, and six lights.

I really started this piece out of a frustration with the possibilities for improvisation in electronic music. I wanted something I could get lost in while performing. I wanted something that wasn’t just moving through a set of presets or known “fields” I had created prior to a show; circuitMusic often surprises me, as does the incredibly positive reaction I get to the simple on/off “visualization” it provides the audience.

Weidenbaum: You’ve taught courses related to electronic music at a variety of schools in and around Manhattan. I imagine these schools each has a different take on music and technology, and I was wondering what you’ve learned about different scholarly takes on the field.

Allen: The often surprising thing about music in academia is that the spectrum of motivations is really broad. There are many communities, viewpoints, conferences, styles, and philosophies represented. Coming to accept this as a cultural reality when I first became involved was a bit of a challenge for me, actually. I come out of playing in bands, in bars, etc., primarily for the rawness and fun of it — the blood-and-sweat school of music. So I came to computer electronic music with a kick-ass “let’s fucking do this thing” kind of motivation. I had a real problem accepting any motivation other than those that were a direct reaction to the lack of relevancy I perceived in the computer and experimental music scene. As is often true, I’ve mellowed out a lot, because, as I am now quite fond of saying, “Hell, it’s only music.”

There are scholars who approach technological, musical, and other creative decisions as a kind of scientific “problem” to be “solved.” There are a lot of people out to do a lot of things so they can be “first” at it. There are also far too many music-technology scholars in higher learning who use academia a kind of hustle or dodge, or to bolster a failing “commercial” music career — whatever that means these days.

The best work, and best teaching I think, comes from people who are primarily interested in music as a method of communication, enhanced and elaborated through technology. In Manhattan, like anywhere else, you find that certain schools and departments do have certain emphases in this regard, based on who’s running them and what their personal motivations are.

Weidenbaum: Do you have any thoughts you’d like to share on the whole 8-bit world of music-making — is that at all where your head is at?

Allen: I’ve always loved the sound of the square wave, which is the timbral indicator for what we think of as “low-fi” or “chip” music. It’s also fitting that mathematically, the instantaneous change from one signal level to another — the Heaviside function, the basis of a square wave, really — at least theoretically, contains all frequencies. That thought alone contributes to my understanding of these somewhat harsh tones as very warm, welcoming, and somehow enveloping.

I’m also sure, as I’ve heard many people comment, that there is a kind of flashback adrenaline rush that comes from hearing these sounds. A good portion of our generation grew up getting their kicks with a side order of these square-wave-based game sounds, so there’s a sense in which it’s just taking you back to that time you kicked your brother’s ass at Impossible Mission on the C64. A happy time, indeed.

Anyhow — I’m not much of a scenester, but I do have a duo with Michael Horan called “Season of the Bit” where we remix and DJ Commodore 64 tunes. The Blip Festival just happened here in New York, and I was really hoping to catch way more of it than I did…

Weidenbaum: I agree there’s a flashback quality to those sounds, and the way musicians and artists — from Scott Johnson’s I.F. Stone transcriptions to Christian Marclay’s use of old video footage and record albums — employ sounds of the past definitely expects that as part of the audience’s reaction. But as the years go on, lo-fi, 8bit music is attracting an audience with no first-hand experience with that original sound. The result is a kind of second-hand nostalgia. This new generation grew up on much more advanced games — do you understand what they get out of 8bit?

Allen: You’re right — this “flashback” quality is certainly not the only motivation for low-res soundscape work — just an often-cited one.

If you’re the kind of person that thinks all decisions are political — like me — you can also think of the use of lo-fi hardware and software as somewhat of a subversion of technological culture. That’s certainly one of my motivations for doing this kind of work. Our culture at the moment values technological advancement and refinement at a level that can sometimes feel dehumanizing, overstated, and boring. There’s a slickness, perfection, and inevitability to the trajectory of ever-higher-resolution-everything we’re on right now that is apparently frustrating to a good number of people’s creative process, particularly in music. This is perhaps why a lot of people compare the 8bit scene to the punk scene, in terms of motivation. The elements you get to lay your hands on in “state of the art” music studios can really suck all the play and fun out of making music.

Weidenbaum: And, to follow up, do you see a music movement based on more recent gaming systems, along the lines of machinima — in which footage of video games is edited to create short films — coming along?

Allen: Certainly — a lot of my students are interested in the effects current video-game culture will have on the musical landscape. What I find interesting is that there are generations of people out there assuming that all their media is interactive, malleable, and essentially a dialogue of some sort. Most of the creative music game developers out there — Toshio Iwai and Harmonix, for example — are already using game platforms to deliver high-level musical decision-making to the masses. I would say that Harmonix’s FreQuency (2001) and Nintendo’s Electroplankton (2005) are existing examples of “musical machinima” tools — although there is certainly room for further exploration and openness in these systems.

Weidenbaum: Of all the different music-making devices you’ve created, do you think any of them might have a wider audience among your fellow musicians — that is, would any of make it in the marketplace as manufactured instruments?

Allen: I think one of the real powers of the configurable prototyping systems available to the electronic artist today is that you are freed from these ideas transferability and permanence in the standard sense. You can pretty much make an entire instrument system, play it once, take it apart, reconfigure it and then play it the next night. Perry Cook, a fantastic guy, technologist, and musician up at Princeton, once said, “Make a piece, not an instrument or controller.” This has wonderful repercussions musically, politically, and socially. In music, there is the new idea of a kind of sketchy, design-oriented approach to performance and compositional process. Politically, we may actually help to break down hegemonic and hierarchical music and art structures in the West that have been so dominant for far too long. It is hard get to the heart of what educational pedigree, for example, even means for self-built instruments that are entirely reconfigurable or performance-specific. Socially, we can think of instrument creation as beginning before the level of “player” and oftentimes blurring the ranks of composer, performer, instrumentalist, and audience.

Needless to say, the marketplace affects everyone’s outlook and work in a broad sense, but it’s not at all a part of my conscious thought process in the creation of music or performance.

Weidenbaum: Which comes first, the music or the instrument? Do you create instruments with a certain sound in your head, or do you create instruments and then, when they’re done, see what kind of music they can make?

Allen: I’m really interested in process, first and foremost. There’s a transparency and directness of communication that I strive for in performance and music. Instrument design is often a way of rendering limitations and facilities into a physical object. Objects are also, arguably, inherently performable, so it can be a way of translating and communicating otherwise obscure processes to other people. Like anyone, I have sounds and sequences and patterns that appeal to me for one reason or another, as in the aforementioned case of square waves. What I find most satisfying, though, is the translation of process as a way of sculpting someone else’s experience in real time.

Weidenbaum: If I am overemphasizing the academic aspect of your work, please tell me so, but I want to ask one additional question about that area. One thing that academia has in its favor is continuity. There’s a tradition, a literature, a practice, or a variety of practices, within each field. Are there performance, or computer-science, or music communities, within academia that you particularly see yourself in the tradition of?

Allen: I really think of myself as a life-long student, and so I think I naturally gravitate towards educational environments. I have a serious addiction to learning new things and being exposed to new ideas. I don’t have a lot of academic aspirations in the more traditional sense, so I can’t really say that there’s a particular history I’m interested in trying to get myself written into.

I do think relationships to specific histories in academia, the arts, performance, and music are changing. I find a lot of electronic and digital artists are less and less concerned with their practice as a “modernist” or “minimalist” or whatever — and more and more concerned with project-specific appropriateness, relevance, and context dependence, which is really very positive all in all.

This has a lot to do with the distributed contexts in which creative works exist these days. An artist can have one piece that looks at something from a certain motivation — say, deconstructionist — and another piece that looks at it from another — say, collagist. There’s no conflict because both “communities” can be addressed through the same varied distribution channels available to the artist. This all reminds me of music-listening patterns in the post-digital music age, to some extent. You don’t ask people, “What kind of music do you listen to?” anymore, because listening patterns are so diverse. Similarly, I don’t ask people, “What kind of artist are you?” because I know they’ve likely got a long list of interests.

So… what kind of artist am I? Well I’m a “post-post-modern- avant-garde-romantic-digital- experimental-conceptualist,” with a limp. [posted by Marc Weidenbaum on Disquiet]

Snowy Day at MGFest 2008 from Michael Una on Vimeo.

My work investigates how vibrating waves of energy and human consciousness interact. I utilize traditional musical instruments, handbuilt analog electronics, video processes, digital synthesis, and repurposed objects to build harmonic wave patterns. These patterns are projected into physical space, creating a unique and temporary audiophysical experience. - Michael Una

Octophonopod at MGFest 2008 from Michael Una on Vimeo.

Three circles of loudspeakers are suspended from the ceiling above an abstract landscape. On entering the space, the visitor starts the composition with a button at the center of the piece, triggering an immersive audio-visual experience in a 3-dimensional soundscape, enhanced by a specially designed LED lighting system. For the exhibition in Berlin, Keiichiro Shibuya creates a new composition which is presented here as a world premiere. It is based on research of complex systems and makes use of cellular automata and logistic maps for sound synthesis.

The accompanying CD filmachine phonics emulates the spatial experience of the installation within the limited acoustic space of stereo headphones.

Opening: January 28, 2008, 7:00 pm :: Podewils Palace, Klosterstr. 68, Berlin (U2: Klosterstrasse / Bus 100: Alexanderplatz).

At the transmediale festival the artists will give a lecture about their work. Keiichiro Shibuya and Takashi Ikegami: The Third Term Music January 30, House of World Cultures.

Keiichiro Shibuya will perform live in an evening at club transmediale with alva noto, Alexander Rishaug and Marius Watz - Generator.x 2.0, February 1, 8 pm :: Ballhaus Naunynstr.

filmachine was developed and premiered at Yamaguchi Center for Arts and Media in 2006. The international premiere in Berlin is produced by Les Jardins des Pilotes for transmediale.08. Co-produced by ATAK. Organised by Yamaguchi Center for Arts and Media. Technical support by YCAM InterLab. In cooperation with Tokyo National University of Fine Arts & Music. Kindly sponsored by Musikelectronic Geithain, Audio-Studiotechnik Glasa and Color Kinetics Japan. Commissioned by the Agency for Cultural Affairs of Japan.

The audience, kept at a safe distance from the whirling arms by a safety barrier, are able to move freely about the space and experience different sonic and visual perspectives of the work. Meanwhile the performers move about within the mass of swirling metal machinery, operating their machines and tuning oscillators to change the musical composition while dodging and ducking the rapid movement of the rotating arms.

This ‘choir of rotating sirens’ creates an audio visual spectacle that is essentially a live experience. Wherever you stand in the space it sounds different. As the arms rotate, the sound pulses past the listener with a Doppler-like effect, while the cluster of closely tuned oscillators creates a rich and pervasive sound world. A minimalist phasing of the rhythmic pulses emerges as the varying speeds of rotation of the arms makes the pulsing tones phase against each other in a constantly evolving polyrhythmic structure. The closeness of the tuning of the separate tones sets off a series of amazing overtones that evoke the sense of an ethereal choir.

In an interview, Robert Ayers asked Lee what he finds so fascinating about invisible forces like magnetism and electricity? Lee replied:

I’ve had this preoccupation with invisible forces since my college work in the very early nineteen eighties, when I was burying walkie-talkies in piles of earth, and it continues right up to my current work where I’m seeking to make the existence of this invisible world concrete through using the Theremin.

In fact there are a lot of reasons why I am deeply fascinated by invisible forces. Some are to do with a kind of childlike wonder. How does a radio work? How do TV signals travel through the atmosphere? Why are magnets magnetic? I love this idea of influence from a distance. Magnetism is a physical property that has physical laws to explain it (but that don’t really tell me why) and magnetism surrounds us. We can make magnets by passing an electric current through a wire wrapped around a piece of metal. If you hit a nail with a hammer in the direction of north the nail becomes a temporary magnet. In the last house I lived in I was perturbed to find that all the nails in the floorboards were magnetic enough to influence a compass placed over them. The house, which faced north, had become magnetic. Then you get into electro-magnetic radiation and you discover that, low and behold, everything is part of this electro-magnetic spectrum which goes from cosmic rays through x-rays and visible light to radio waves. To me there is a magical and mysterious quality to magnets. We use them to alleviate rheumatism, to stop water pipes furring up, to improve the flow of fuel in engines, to cure back pain, as well as to levitate trains and take pictures of the insides of our bodies. Right from ancient times magnets have had a mystical, alchemical property. In the eighteenth century, Franz Mesmer was practising magnetic cures before he became known as a mesmeriser. Yet we seem to have retained this ‘primitive’, almost unscientific notion of magnetic cures. If magnets do work maybe we can influence people with powerful magnets, and if we ate enough magnets would we have a magnetic personality?” Read the entire Listening to Ray Lee: Interview by Robert Ayers.

Ray Lee is an artist, composer, performer and lecturer. Over the past twenty years he has made work that includes performance, installation, composition, and photography. Ray Lee’s work investigates his fascination with the hidden world of electromagnetic radiation and in particular how sound can be used as evidence of invisible phenomena. He is interested in the way that science and philosophy represent the universe and his work questions the orthodoxies that emerge and submerge according to the currently fashionable trends. He creates spinning, whirling and pendulous sound installations/performances that explore ‘circles of ether’, the invisible forces that surround us. He lectures in contemporary arts and music at Oxford Brookes University.