The Matthew Shipp Trio (with bassist Michael Bisio and drummer Whit Dickey), live at Jazzfestival Saalfalden, August 26, 2011:
I reviewed one of their New York performances last January.
The group’s first studio album, Elastic Aspects, will be released February 28.
by Izalia Roncallo
Sound installations can engage audiences in sites and spaces not generally associated with viewing or listening to art. Craig Colorusso’s Sun Boxes is definitely an installation that has gone to several interesting locations—from deserts to beaches, from sculpture parks to Plymouth State University to a warehouse—but it has always remained outdoors. One can experience the sound via field recordings or the videos of Kevin Belli, but the outcome is always different based on the sounds of both the environment and the recording. Even if viewed and listened to in person, there is always an element of randomness. However, this unpredictability is what gives the resulting soundscape its shape.
Sound installations as a medium include a vast array of elements, and the types of people working in the field come from diverse areas of experience but typically include composers, musicians, sculptors and engineers. Colorusso came to the medium with a background as a musician; in a way that is extremely helpful in installation art from the viewpoint of spectacle and commerce. But what is important in mass media to complete a project is not the case with Sun Boxes. In fact, his work seems to offer infinite possible combinations of experiences. So when is the work completed? Since it is open to various possibilities, it is persistently evolving.
The theme of Sun Boxes is universal—it’s about the power of nature, which is sometimes a forgotten force in a technology-filled world. The speaker boxes are powered by solar panels, but if not enough sun is offered, the loops do not exist. In both literal and metaphorical ways, this installation requires interaction with nature for its power. The visual component of being surrounded by nature can also heighten the audience’s experience. Whether one decides to walk through the space or just to sit and listen are but two ways to create an outcome. Future plans for Sun Boxes include a documentary and a multi-screen presentation in various environments: in Colorusso’s own words, “an installation of the installation.”
Here’s a video of Craig and the boxes in 2010:
He’s just released a colored vinyl single featuring two field recordings of the Sun Boxes in action (cover art below).
You can stream the audio here:
And we’re giving away five copies of this unique 7″. Just email burningambulance@gmail.com and tell us what you see when you close your eyes and listen to this music. Good luck!
Steve Hicken is not just a Burning Ambulance contributor; he’s also a composer. His essay in issue #3 goes into his creative process in some detail, and is well worth your time. We’ve previously posted two of his pieces, which were performed at the Western Illinois University New Music Festival last year; now we present a third piece, from the same festival. Click the link below to listen.
American Song (solo trombone, performed by John Mindeman)
French doom metal band Monarch are releasing a new album, Omens, on February 28. It’s their first for the At A Loss label, and it features three songs (“Blood Seeress,” “Transylvanian Incantations” and “Black Becomes the Sun”) in 34 minutes. That’s the cover art above, and the group has also put together this short promotional video:
Monarch have never made a bad record (my favorite is their most recent release, the one-track, 28-minute CD Sabbat Noir), and I’m extremely excited to hear this one.
By Izalia Roncallo
Approaching Storm
Culturally speaking, it can be overwhelming to absorb the enormous number of images we are exposed to in a given day. Nevertheless, countless of these images do capture our attention for a fleeting moment, though they are easily forgettable. Too often, they look like a simple imitation of iconic images from photography’s rich history, but don’t equate in mood, so they fall short for the viewer.
The instantaneous gratification of seeing an image online, where the whole world can view it, does sound appealing, but just because it gets millions of hits doesn’t mean it is a good image. In a way, technology has made things too easy, just look at cameras that provide automatic focusing and framing. However, sharpness alone doesn’t make a photograph unforgettable; for instance, the photographer Uta Barth uses blurriness as a device to question what constitutes a subject in photography. Thus, the blurriness is what makes Barth’s images memorable.
So what makes a photograph remarkable? One view is that it provides a window into the world of both subject and photographer. This is a lot to figure out from a frozen moment, but a good photograph opens a portal to not only the formal aspects but also the psychological, technological and epistemological underpinnings.
Coming across the photographs of Taylor Deupree online is inspirational, although his images have been featured on dozens of CD covers from his record label 12k. It is fascinating to see how substantial his photographs are, removed from their context as design elements, and yet the images retain an essential graphic quality, possibly inescapable based on Deupree’s work as a graphic designer. Deupree is also a sound artist, and has collaborated with many other artists in that field.
Primary subjects in Deupree’s photography are architecture and nature. The overall treatment of the subjects is to transform the banal into something completely unknown, or to focus on the altered landscape. In Window Study, February 29, an abstract minimalist depiction of the condensation on a window with a bluish hue, except there is no uniformity to the condensation; in fact, there is a section where no water has formed. Within this area, one can see shadows of unknown objects. Shadows also exist behind the condensation, which indicates that the beauty exists in the shadows. This photograph says a few things about Deupree, especially from an aesthetic angle. Clearly, his sensibilities are attuned to minimalism, nature and imperfection.
Consequently, it is possible in this image-filled world to find an antidote to the growing numbness created by the endless parade of non-thought-provoking photographs. There is no denying the camera is a great social instrument, but it doesn’t come close to exposing everything visually and imaginatively possible. Furthermore, the potential is still growing, with some individuals exploring cameraless techniques. Another way photography is developing in a different way is through the work of individuals who are involved in other creative channels as well, like Deupree.
Taylor Deupree shared his views on photography and his creative process with Burning Ambulance in the interview below.
Window Study, February 29
Can you please describe the category of “empty spaces” in your portfolio, and why do you use that phrase when all your images are barren of people?
The idea of “empty spaces” probably sums up the whole of my photography the best… be it nature or architectural. To me “empty spaces” implies quietude, a sense of silence and breath. It also talks about humanity, not just the simple lack of (i.e., rarely any people in my photos) but more specifically the fact that when humans are gone, when people abandon a place, nature always prevails. Nature always wins. I love decayed and abandoned spaces for this reason. There is much beauty in these places that nature has reclaimed, while the ghosts of human presence still hover. You get these uncomfortable moments where nature and civilization are at battle, but everything returns to nature. It is about life, death, and time.
Several of your subjects are related to nature, emphasizing its sublimity, but in the atmospheric images there seems to be an unnerving quality to them. Is this a contrast you want to emphasize, in your portrayal of nature?
I think this may be related to the points above. I am really after quiet spaces and the power of nature displayed in the subtlest of ways. I definitely don’t want my nature photos to simply just be “pretty” or border on the trite. Even in nature photography I tend to find open spaces, stark, empty, quiet… tactile… while still being beautiful and powerful. And often the vastness of nature, to show how it overpowers humanity. That can be unnerving.
Things usually considered mundane, like the window studies or the sky photographs, are not typical subject matter for most individuals. Another photographer who also explored these kinds of subjects was Minor White, but he fostered a spiritual connection to his interest in these themes. Do you have the same aims White had for exploring these motifs?
While I’ve heard of Minor White, I can’t say I’m familiar with his work. In fact, I’m not familiar with many photographers’ work at all, but I’ll get to that in detail below. However, as a photographer, I am always looking. Just as I’m always listening as a musician. My eyes are always cameras and I tend to seek out the beauty and simplicity in everything. So while something may seem mundane… yes, we look out windows every day… but the drops of condensation that may be on those windows, look how they distort the reality beyond the glass. Or the blue sky. It’s not just blue, there are hundreds of shades of blue and then perhaps when taken with a Polaroid, this process creates artifacts from technical flaws or shortcomings which may enhance or alter part of that simple image, thus rendering something more cerebral. Sometimes, as with images of the sky, it’s about a grouping as well. Perhaps as individual images they can be bland, but if you see a dozen blue fields of sky it can be quite special. It’s influenced by the colorfield and minimalist artists.
Some of your photographs are abstract to the point that the subject vanishes, in particular the ones under the category of “occur.” What sorts of objects did you start with, and why did you alter them the way you did?
Occur was an old project of mine that went along with music I did at the time and that I created a CD release for. It was about capturing fleeting moments. Singular happenings in time. The photographs and effects were all done in camera, nothing in Photoshop. Simple over-exposing. The subjects were not important to the project because the process rendered them fairly abstract, but they were mostly, and obviously, city images. It was a project about the rush of the city, the things that happen in a flash all around us and then are gone and forgotten.
Fireflies (For Sawako)
When it comes to photography, who are your influences, and has your background in other forms of creative endeavors shaped your photographic work?
Even though I have a bachelor’s degree in photography and spent four years of university studying photography, I am not knowledgeable on many photographers. I didn’t take many historical classes at college, instead opting for alternative process and more technical classes… as well as having the majority of my time focused outside of school on my music career. It’s not until after school that I discovered maybe my biggest photographic influence which is Hiroshi Sugimoto, and in particular his Seascapes series. Seascapes, to me, is very similar to what my work is about, photographic and musical: stillness, repetition, emptiness, quietness. When I was introduced to this work of his it was really profound, not because it felt new to me, but because it felt so familiar. Because I felt like I was approaching art in the same ways, so he felt like a kindred spirit. I am also quite fond of the winter photography of Michael Kenna, who also follows a similar aesthetic in black and white photography. Other than those two I don’t follow names so much.
Besides using Polaroid and a Holga, what other equipment or techniques are you using? Any cameraless techniques?
No cameraless techniques. I did experiment with that in school when I had access to the darkrooms and equipment. But now, along with the Holga and Polaroid cameras, I use a digital SLR as well as my iPhone quite a bit. The iPhone I use for snapshots (which can sometimes be good enough to use on an album cover for someone) but I stick to the bigger Nikon for most of my “serious” work. Having worked in the graphic design field for the better part of 20 years, I know a lot of Photoshop so I tend to use that for color correction and post editing. I don’t manipulate subject matter with Photoshop, that’s not what my work is about.
The act of photography has become so instantaneous nowadays that everyone is a photographer, and almost no craft is required with digital technology; is this something that you contemplate when you look through the viewfinder?
Absolutely… especially when I’m using the iPhone. There are so many iPhone apps to simulate Polaroid and other vintage techniques… and I love these, I think they’re great… but they’re also cheating to me and I don’t take them as seriously as I do work created by more organic and traditional means. It’s true that everyone is a photographer and I think that’s a great thing (better than everyone being a “musician” which is also true these days and I don’t think it’s such a great thing). Photography is such an important part of humanity and as well can be so instant and permanent. However, just because everyone is carrying a capable camera in their pockets doesn’t make them a “photographer” to me. There is still an eye to be had, still a talent and grace that separates the lovers, artists and craftsmen from the casual photographer. Not that great images aren’t taken by casual snapshot photographers (my father, in fact, does a lot of work in this field of collecting and archiving fantastic snapshot photographers from decades ago).
Who better to feature, on Friday the 13th?
Thelonious Monk: piano; Charlie Rouse: tenor saxophone; Larry Gales: bass; Ben Riley: drums, live in Copenhagen, 1966. I have always liked Monk’s Columbia albums featuring this band (or the earlier iteration with John Ore on bass and Frankie Dunlop on drums) better than his Riverside or Blue Note recordings.
Set list:
Lulu’s Back in Town
Don’t Blame Me
Epistrophy
Here’s some video of guitarist Derek Bailey and saxophonist Evan Parker from April 22, 1985.
Up first, here’s some solo footage of Bailey; Part 1 of a long piece:
And Part 2 of the same piece:
And a second piece:
Now here’s some duo work by both men; here’s the first piece:
A second:
And a third:
Two years later, in 1987, Bailey and Parker would have a major falling out, resulting in the Incus label (which they’d run collaboratively since the early ’70s) remaining entirely in the guitarist’s hands until his death in 2005. It’s still around today, run by his former partner, Karen Brookman.
Charles Gayle has a new album coming out next month—his first studio recording in five years, and the first album to feature his tenor saxophone playing in quite a few more years than that; he’s been focusing on the alto sax, and the piano, for a while now. The album’s called Streets, and its cover art (above) shows him garbed as the clown character by that name that he sometimes performed as in the 1990s. Streets hasn’t made an appearance in a while, either.
You can hear a track from the new album right here; it’s called “Compassion I,” and features Larry Roland on bass and Michael TA Thompson on drums.
Below is some video of Gayle performing (in Streets makeup, and backed by bassist Gerald Benson and drummer Gerald Cleaver) at the Knitting Factory in 1996.
by Izalia Roncallo
There is an unforgettable image by Burt Glinn called Three Graces, which depicts Joan Mitchell, Grace Hartigan and Helen Frankenthaler seated in front of a painting. Frankenthaler, the last of the three still alive after the death of Hartigan in 2008, passed away December 27, 2011. Frankenthaler’s career lasted more than half a century and is divided mostly into two movements: Cubism and Abstract Expressionism. She is best known for her paintings, but she was also a sculptor and printmaker. From this, her importance to modern art is evident, in particular relating to formalist theories. So it is interesting to note how Glinn has depicted Frankenthaler and the two other women: as mere muses (“graces”), rather than artists in their own right.
In a 1965 interview, Henry Geldzahler, then the Curator for American Art at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, asked Frankenthaler, “How do you feel about being a woman painter?” She replied, “Obviously, first I am involved in painting not the who and how. I wonder if my pictures are ‘lyrical’ (that loaded word!) because I’m a woman. Looking at my paintings as if they were painted by a woman is superficial, a side issue, like looking at Klines and saying they are bohemian. The making of serious painting is difficult and complicated for all serious painters. One must be oneself, whatever.”
Clearly, the dominant view of the time was to see female artists as rare, especially in the male-dominated movement of Abstract Expressionism. But decades earlier, female artists were world famous; for example, Surrealists like Remedios Varo, Frida Kahlo and Lee Miller, to name a few. And yet Frankenthaler, a second-generation Abstract Expressionist, was mostly influenced by men. From Jackson Pollock she adapted the method of pouring paint directly onto the canvas as well as laying the canvas on the ground to work on and the use of large-scale canvases. She also trained under Hans Hofmann, like many of the other painters of abstraction of that time. Eventually, Frankenthaler herself influenced the Color Field movement and painters like Kenneth Noland and Morris Louis, with her soft-edged stain method of painting.
Frankenthaler’s The Bay (1963) is an excellent example of her use of blocks of colors, floating on the canvas. An amorphous shape with different layered tones of blue pops out from the canvas, flanked by patches of warm white at the top of the image and a smooth, grassy green flowing across the bottom. There’s also a darker band of almost grayish green forming a sort of border at the very bottom. Her works mostly convey a serene feeling of nature, while displaying a play with light and shadow and color, thoroughly unlike the art of her male counterparts, who created aggressive, menacing and dark canvases. This kind of dichotomy set her oeuvre apart when she arrived at her style and technique. It’s also what made her legacy influential, making her forever part of art history.
