stopGOstop: field recordings, sound collage, and sound art

So, yeah. I had a dream last night that I was composing a new piece for episode 171 of the stopGOstop podcast. This is unusual for me; my dream life is, well, limited. My nightly walks through my subconscious mind are, kind of boring.

A wandering conversation of swirling chaos, or just too much to understand, too far away from how things are thought of today. A swirling thought, does this interfere with my life today? Does it change how I change my clothes? How do I treat those I know or will ever meet?

Three wandering monologues about snow, the day of the week, and more and more and more. Featuring computer voices, artificially enhanced writing, a binaural recording of a drum line, and computer-controlled instruments.

When you think about where you live, what do you see in your head? When you talk to yourself on a spaceship, too far away to communicate, what do you talk about?

stopGOstop and Idaho Street Workshop are proud to present: Christmas has been ruined… or something like that. A semi-narrative story about beepers, the before, and the thin film between life and work. Featuring marimbas, a pipe organ, a field recording, and much much more.

Looking out towards the horizon– the waves moving, the wind murmurs in melody, this morning there was a glimmer, then at noon a purple glow, as I look out now, I hear episode 166, a new composition for a small ensemble.

A field recording of Lake Michigan, interweaving chromatic scales, and arpeggios, episode 165 of the podcast features a new composition for a small ensemble (or rather a computer pretending to be a small ensemble).

The piece was partly inspired by several bike rides I took this weekend, from Evanston to a nature preserve near South Shore Cultural Center(Chicago). The weather was near perfect for bike riding, 70 degrees, with a slight wind. But the waves were rough, tossing and turning from every direction.

The piece takes its first note, middle C, from the book I finished this weekend, Orfeo, by Richard Powers. The title also appears in the novel, as the lyrics for an experimental piece Peter Els, the composer/DIY microbiologist in the novel, sees at a coffee house. He identifies it as Reich. Wittgenstein. Proverb. To paraphrase Els from later in the novel, I will never have anything to break; everything is already broken and glued back together in a mosaic of pretty bits…

stopGOstop and Idaho Street Workshop are proud to present: Thunderstruck, or how I stopped listening and learned to love the end of the world. Featuring field recordings as well as reflections about the weather, high fidelity recordings, war, and much much more.

A new sound collage featuring rotary dial telephones, counting, Sadie Hawkins, Charles Darwin, and much much more!

A new composition (I will/might update the description in a couple of weeks, but in short, sometimes a conversation can make circles and birds more interesting than before).