15 August 2016

The LYD Writing Research Residencies / The Sculptor Sinks, Thinks, Sings

It’s been nearly a year since Dominique Hurth and myself started working on a collaborative piece, which turned out to be a project in three parts entitled It Won’t Stop, It Goes On and developed around ideas of interference.
Part 1, The Sculptor Sinks, Thinks, Sings will take place on 3 September in Bergen, on board one of the many cruise ships that interfere intermittently with the architecture of the city. With texts, textures, colours, sounds. Voicing our voices and the voices of others through our accents and muteness, to the point of no distinction. Sinking into the persona of Robert Ashley in his interview-metamorphosis with Pauline Oliveros in Music with Roots in the Aether. Becoming a chameleon-like presence of shiny fabric and masks. Sinking into the horizon.

A series of three posters was designed by Vasilis Marmatakis.

To attend, RSVP: mei@lydgalleriet.no

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27 May 2016

Beginning to Speak

On 7 June at Spike Island, Bristol, I will join artist in residence Tamarin Norwood to talk of beginnings, in relation to our respective work and current research.

Working from a paragraph by Gabriel Josipovici and a paragraph by Clarice Lispector, that we exchanged a few months ago, we will present a number of reflections on beginnings, necessity, remoteness, friction, blindness.

‘I hadn’t turned the page.’
(Gabriel Josipovici, Everything Passes)

‘And it is no use to try to take a shortcut and want to start, already knowing that the voice says little.’
(Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to G.H.)

This event is part of Tamarin Norwood’s POINT TIME LINEhttp://www.spikeisland.org.uk/events/talks/talk-beginning-to-speak/

 

23 April 2016

H.G. / Listening and Its Not

Listening and Its Not is a new anthology published by Compost and Height and SARU, collecting a number of responses to a score by Patrick Farmer that invites people to travel 10 miles north of their home and to write about their experience of listening ‘without pointing directly to it, or at it’.

My text is entitled H.G., and I obviously never left the house:

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https://wolfnotes.wordpress.com/2016/04/03/new-publication-listening-and-its-not/

20 March 2016

Nothing, the voice said.

In response to Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s Lord Chandos Letter (1902), in which he voiced a crisis of language, I will read an excerpt from my book in progress, in which I write a crisis of voice:

Nothing, the voice said. Nothing the voice said.

Kakania, curated by SJ Fowler
31 March, Austrian Cultural Forum, London
7pm

16 February 2016

‘Perhaps my whisper…’ – workshop in Edinburgh, 20 February

‘Perhaps my whisper was born before my lips’
A listening, reading, writing workshop for the What We Heard series at EMBASSY Gallery, Edinburgh
Saturday 20 February, the Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop

‘Perhaps my whisper was born before my lips’ is a sentence I borrowed from Marlene van Niekerk’s The Swan Whisperer (2015): a tale of transmission, disappearance and utterance, that places writing at the edge of language, trafficking with the ephemeral and the unreliable, and in close proximity with listening and with reading aloud, challenging the primacy of the written text through a story of interference, rhythms and non-origin.
‘Perhaps my whisper was born before my lips’: I take this sentence as a prompt for this workshop, in which we will consider the triggers, connections and networks that allow the messy, changing archive of sunken aural memories to resurface. What is the life of a sound beyond its actual sounding, of a word before or after it is uttered, beyond or after or even before and without our experience of it? What radiates from sounds and remains, or excites residues from the past? Do we need to footnote aural memories? Or those rhythms or broken verses that we know by heart and resurface intermittently?
As a writer who has chosen to write in a language that is not her mother tongue, I am interested in a form of writing-as-sounding that is not polished—that prompts to linger, stop, interrupt, and question what is not there, what is unheard, inaudible. Writing as it rummages the untidy archives of the past and its residues, but always works for the moment, using memory as a fictive apparatus.

‘Nothing is over. Everything is over. We have barely begun. We are in the midst of the midst.’ Antena, A Manifesto for Discomfortable Writing (2013)

In this workshop we will listen, read and write through residues beyond note, memory without recording devices. And we will set up possibilities for reading out loud, together, within miscomprehension and intermission, where misunderstanding becomes mise-en-abyme.

 

31 January 2016

To be stranger in a language. ‘The Swan Whisperer’ by Marlene van Niekerk

This is a tale of transmission, disappearance, and utterance, of writing as it hovers at the edge of language, trafficking with the ephemeral and the unreliable; challenging the primacy of the written text through a compelling reflection on flow and interference, rhythms and non-origin. A tale of listening as the rebeginning of writing; of people missing but resounding through words whose meaning is lost (or maybe it was never there completely): it has to be made anew every time. A story of speech emerged from and given back to birds, wind and water, a story of speech into landscape. A tale of writing as divining and impure continuity.

My review of Marlene van Niekerk’s beguiling text The Swan Whisperer (The Cahiers Series, 2015) is now published on Music & Literature.

I have a lot more to think and write around / from / for van Niekerk’s text. Mostly about the density and pacing of the prose. This will happen in my next book.

23 January 2016

now

Here is where my next book is moving through:

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26 November 2015

The Secret Euphoria of Reading

‘The blurbs state their presence as echo chambers in which the absent books resound with murmurs, with questions such as: what builds a library? What connects disparate works and words? What do books transmit onto our selves? And further on, detours into what is commonly deemed irrelevant, marginal, minor — until I’m no longer sure who generates what, what is written before and what after, what is read into writing and written out of reading, and notions of origin are buried beneath layers of rewritings.’

For a long time I’d thought of writing something around a book (in Italian, no English translation) that collects Roberto Calasso’s book blurbs for the legendary Italian publishing house Adelphi, echoing in turn what those blurbs and those books had meant to me years ago, before I even knew I’d be a writer.

‘Woven across the fabric of Calasso’s blurbs is a thread of marginal figures, writers in spite of themselves. These people wrote yet would not call themselves writers. They were recluse, enclosed, outsiders locked in, disrupting any notions of a unified and coherent writing subject.’

As part of my ongoing work on frames, margins, edges, The Secret Euphoria of Reading is now published on 3:AM Magazine, thanks to Tristan Foster’s support and accurate editorial input. You can read the piece here.

‘Adelphi’s main series ‘Biblioteca’ began with Alfred Kubin’s The Other Side. Calasso’s collection of blurbs begins with Samuel Butler’s Erewhon: a scrambled nowhere, a scrambled other side, a book first published anonymously, the perfect start for this collection of texts written around the eventful and sensuous nowhere of reading.’

The Secret Euphoria of Reading: on Roberto Calasso’s Cento lettere a uno sconosciuto

25 November 2015

Trapdoors: more than an interview

When I met Ian Maleney for an interview last summer, and mentioned how in writing En abime I ended up organising a system of trapdoors, I could not anticipate that the interview he’d have published could become a set of trapdoors in itself, opening into words, poetry, images and sounds.

Ian read through and listened to my two books, En abime and F.M.R.L., mixed in my voice and other voices, and arranged a non-linear structure that mirrors the rhapsodic way our conversation took shape in July as we discussed periphery, voice, dialect, writing sound, poetry and more. My fractured, at times unfinished sentences appear as they were during the interview: they were not polished or completed into anything else than the way they were uttered.

You can read and hear the interview on Fallow Media .

22 November 2015

Rhythms and Song / Reductive book launch at Hundred Years Gallery

 

Rhythms and Song is a new text published in the Reductive Four book . It’s in five parts: 1 and 5 are recordings of inner voices as well as prompts/scores for reading, 2, 3 and 4 were born out of very specific moments and materials: remembering a statue of Martyr Saint Vittoria in Rome during a gig (bones and wax), counting/listing some books of mine that got burned in a fire earlier this year (paper and fire), mixing the voices of Twin Peaks’ Nadine and Breton’s Nadja (silence and voice).

I will read from the texts during a performance in collaboration with Ryoko Akama on Friday 27th November at Hundred Years Gallery in London , as part of the Reductive Four book launch.

Rhythms and Song

1. That listening feeling.

2. The murmurs of Saint Vittoria, martyr.

3. The silences of Nadine and Nadja.

4. After the fire. A litany of ashes.

5. Lines, dots, blank. Recalling a visit to the Agnes Martin exhibition at Tate Modern, 30 June 2015.

 

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