At the turn of the year into 2013 I completed a commission for Kunstradio titled, ‘Taken to Booroomba’. This piece’s work-process commenced with the creation of a composition using only source material recordings of Austrian artist – Uli Khuen’s interactive sculpture, ‘ROBOT’. This composition was created specifically to be played back at Booroomba Rocks (Namadji Park, Australian Capital Territory) and rerecorded interacting with one of the thunderstorms that commonly occur in this environment.
For the piece, ‘Booroomba to Borough’, I have forced a new interaction on the initial composition post-record and in-studio, with a field recording of London’s Borough Markets (June 2013). Whilst unlike, ‘Taken to Booroomba’, I was not able to return to the market and playback the original composition within this environment, using the two source materials I have generated the sense of saturated experience one has on mediating such a heavy dose of social interaction and observation.
My personal experience of the day was one of sensory overload. Jetlagged and fatigued I’d reached a mindset that lay between a feverish energy that only fuelled my inspiration and a Zen like calm that enabled me to complete my work. I remember the colors being so bright I had to squint a little and high/mid frequencies never sounding so crisp. The waves of low rumble from trains passing overhead were a manmade musical rhythm natural to its sonic environment. Their relentless cycle was as soothing as it was maddening in its infinite loop. Each recording I stood like stone, holding a clearly visible microphone amongst the crowd for a good half hour – neither moving nor interacting – somehow invisible to the people that moved around me. Blind to my presence they were unabashed and talked openly about their families, their neighbors and the weight they wanted to lose before Christmas.
There was one local stallholder who eventually ‘saw’ me and the work I was doing. He approached with questions that had undertones of mistrust and suspicion. We spoke of his stall, my intent and the sounds of the market. Struggling to convey my sonic passions with words I asked him to listen, ‘just for a little while’. He closed his eyes and waited with a troubled brow. A train passed, then another, he heard the rhythm, he smiled with his eyes still closed, his forehead lifted and he chuckled. I left the market with both the recordings and a mental list from a local, of where I might be interested to find what I seek outside of London city. It seems that the sounds had told him much more than I was able, all I had to do was ask him to listen.
tattered-kaylor.com