Way Out is a living archive of art in progress.
Shared here are snapshots of our work
in whatever state they may be each week.
Even with my technical background and today's preoccupation with the democratization of building/engineering digital *stuff* - I often find myself looking to the past as a wellspring of limitless inspiration.
Where others balk at the idea of aesthetic "nostalgia", I find solace in the familiar blueprint of mythological models which manifest throughout the history of the human document, because I feel that the true magical nature of the stories we tell each other can only really be appreciated in retrospect.
Because the overwhelming crowdchatter is almost always focused on something today. Excavating the past feels special
. Unique. Untouched. Personal. Speaks to me because it's unclouded by contemporary criticism.
Been sifting through a whole bunch of sound recordings - it's time travel - instantaneous wormholes. Back to those specific times, those specific spaces - and all you have to do is isolate your senses via headphones and closed eyelids. Much more effective than any image bounded by physical dimensions of 3 by 4 inches, these sonic snapshots are more expansive, empirical, experiential. Non?
Just took a few snippets here and there of some recordings to demonstrate a kind of sonic stream of consciousness one can get. You could probably guess the majority of these places, but to put it more in context, they're listed below.
1. walking experimental street orchestra at Place des Arts, afternoon, Montréal
2. tennis semi-finals between Raonic and Pospisil, evening, LIttle Italy, Montréal
3. black-capped chickadees at the windowsill, 5am, Deep River
4. brother and nephew in the backyard, a lazy summer afternoon, Toronto
5. protest against la Parti Québécois' "Charter of Values," a weekend in November, Rue Sainte-Catherine, Montréal
Mulling on the potentials these might have for a sound installation of sorts. Perhaps, perhaps.