Dear Sara, Katrien, and haptically-oriented freecooperators,
May I introduce The Gallbladder Sonata? It is a staged performance work
comprising text, sound, and yes--live internet collaboration. The acoustic
dimension of the work is the sound of its composition: the gallery,
theater or concert hall resounds with the monumentally-amplified sound of
typing. I treat the computer as a keyboard instrument.
I find that a typist, like a pianist, has a characteristic TOUCH. You can
hear it. In codebreaking, this acoustic signature identifies a person
entering the code: it is called "hand." This is what I wished to highlight
by amplification, and by making it the point rather than an artefact of
the performance.
Moreover, I am hard of hearing, and the sound of typing is, to me, the
sound of communicating; more so than words. (When you meet me, you won't
notice it, unless you are attuned to such subtleties; so don't hesitate
to call me on the phone, Sara.)
I have performed The Gallbladder Sonata three times: in New York, Munich
and Mainz. My essay on the sonata appears in the current issue of Leonardo
Music Journal (LMJ13), which was published in cooperation with Leonardo
Electronic Almanac, which could include audio clips in the full online
version of the essay. (Of course, the audio clips played on a computer
sound like typing, whereas the concert version sounds like steel drums.)
Abstract:
http://mitpress2.mit.edu/e-journals/Leonardo/lmj/lmj13extendedabstracts.html
You can sign up for a 12-month trial subscription to LEA online, and see
the full version.
I did in fact write a different essay on The Gallbladder Sonata last fall,
which stresses the haptic dimension, as above. I was told it prompted
vivid discussion among the editors, who in the end decided against
publishing it; the trials of the avant garde. . .
Which brings me to my motto, which I hope will encourage those of you on
the bleeding edge: When all else fails, try MIT.
But hey--is "haptic" a thread in the newspaper? I unfortunately cannot
come to Buffalo, but am--
An active lurker,
Marlena