Choreography & Dance: Hiroaki Umeda
Image Direction: S20
Visual Research: Ludovic Burczykowski
Image Programming: Shoya Dozono
Video Editing: Guillaume Gravier
Sound & Lighting Design: S20
Coproduction: Le Manège – Scène Nationale, le manège.mons, la Gare Numérique – Jeumont, la Maison des Arts de Créteil, Stereolux – Nantes, Mapping Festival – Genéve
A horizontal line projected on the screen tremors. Suddenly, for an instance, the line drastically multiplies as if to discharge its immanent energy. Similarly, when Umeda on stage trembles, covert energy withheld in his body is transmitted from the pelvis to the spine, to the arms, and lastly to the digital screen situated at the rear, in which the energy is visualized by curved lines reminiscent of a solar corona. When waterfalls and rivers are seen from afar, they seem to maintain static forms; yet, when one zooms into the same objects in a microscopic level, it is noticeable that they are consisted of ceaseless motions such as swells, waves, vortex and crosscurrents. Based on this creative concept, in Intensional Particle, Umeda reinterprets the particles in space as not static molecules but rather as ‘active particles (or, mass points)’; and, visualizes, in space, the ‘intensional force’ that particles conceal.
On stage, the corporeal, the photic and the sonar forces converge in exponential speed, and, at one point, it reaches the critical point of energy. Yet, the extremity is not sustained for long as it once again reverts back to a temporal equanimity by going through phase transitions. The transient shapes of digital particles which conjure images of dissolution of solids, sublimation of liquids, and algorithms of heat transference, synchronizes and synthesizes with Umeda’s movements – yielding an entire universe that dances like a living organism.
The audience will be experiencing a digital reality saturated with ‘unstable stability’: the raging streamlines vanishes after a minute, and the luminous waterfall vaporizes after a second. Therefore, despite the existence of an explosive canvas soaked with digital curvatures right before our eyes, it simultaneously gives us a fragile impression. When an evanescent expression per se of the body is embedded within the architecture of lights, which moves incessantly to maintain a split-second stability, sooner or later, the audience realizes that everything on stage will vanish in the next moment. As if to embody the ephemeral aesthetics underpinning the piece, here, on stage, the invisible forces come to the fore and the visual universe sink out of sight. Yet, the residue of heat still simmering after the experience of an informational overload will linger long in the audiences’ bodies.
Got 10 rolls of film back from ToyLab – super happy with my first rolls from TX2/xPan but love these snaps from my Contax T2 with TriX
That camera is permanently loaded with TriX now!
After some Google earth vs maps research I headed off this morning to explore industrial parts of Sakai… Managed to find a train station that got me within 4 blocks, on a cute train line that was only 3 stops long – I guess built to deliver workers to & from the same industrial area I wanted to visit… Next step was crossing this bridge, where I found my first ambience to record
Through & under the bridge I could hear some huge loud clanks & bangs, and it soon became apparent a ship was loading itself with a crane & a big set of claws…
I recorded this perspective for 10 minutes but decided it was a sound worth pursuing so tried to get closer to it…. But after walking for 20 minutes it soon became apparent I couldn’t get closer from the factory side, but I did find this weird green compressor thing:
It seemed to be constantly building pressure, and then every 14 seconds would release a blast of air and carry on, ad infinitum… I recorded for 10 minutes and started to think of it as a weird set of lungs, wheezing away…
Any idea what could create these patterns? It was on the footpath, so couldn’t be vehicle wheels…. my only thought was… snails?
My super power = recording through security fences
Eventually I started to get tired – lugging my mics & recorder & camera in 28 degree heat takes its toll, so I wandered back across the bridge and walked along until I found a clear spot away from traffic & directly across the water from that ship! Set up the mics & proceed to lie down in the grass & shade & snooze for 20 minutes while I recorded it = best perspective yet!
Along from where I was set up, there were a few elderly gents fishing & one came wandering along to see what I was doing – without saying anything I gestured the headphones to him….
It is always so nice to see someones face light up when they realise what you are doing! Funnily enough in all of my recording in Japan plenty of people obviously see the mics and I see them glance at me & think WTF? But rarely does anyone approach me, the few previous times were two photographers in Ginza, and a security guard in Shinjuku (who asked me to leave) – the only other was an elderly lady in Amagasaki who was very sweet and I gave her my headphones for a listen but didnt have my camera ready to take a photo of the reaction….
One thing I do love with my little Song a6300 is silent mode – unlike DSLRs that have quiet mode which really is nowhere near silent, the a6300 being mirrorless can be truly silent. This helps if trying to stealthily capture a photo of someone, but also means that while I am recording I can potter around taking photos without having to edit out the shutter sound afterwards… WIN WIN!!
Caught the train back to Namba station & wandered outside and recorded some pedestrian & traffic ambiences…
Its my last week in Kansai so am rapidly making a to do list, and suspect I will come back to this intersection with my XPAN/TX2 and shoot some long exposures of those crazy diagonal pedestrian crossing markings…
its a very small truck, or those are very large road cones!
By Muko River today
Ever since doing a data visualisation workshop at SemiPermanent last year I’ve had Open Paths installed on my iPhone, and I just had a look at the data it has collected from my travels…
Interesting to see where I’ve been in New Zealand recently too:
“Using our mobile apps you can track your location, visualize where you’ve been, and upload your data to the OpenPaths website. You can then download your data from the website in a variety of friendly formats, including KML, JSON, and CSV….
You can keep your location history to yourself, or you can share it with specific research initiatives, art projects, or educational programs as you so choose. The OpenPaths online interface allows you to manage who has access to your data. Regardless, your data is always encrypted on the OpenPaths servers, and cannot be accessed by anyone without your express consent.”
▶ fish sing a dawn chorus? who knew?
▶ I changed my flight home by 10 days so I could go to a gig by Ryoji Ikeda x Merzbow, but this makes it even better! #we_LOVE_kakapo!
▶ An orchestra is arranged by the biology of the brain, apparently – I have always wondered if it was some roady imperative…
▶ new doco by Adam Curtis HyperNormalisation is available on BBC iPlayer this weekend
▶ stash this: wifi passwords for airports
▶ wow – new old African Head Charge release is coming!
I remember the day I first hear AHC like it was yesterday! #psychedelic_africa!
▶ maglev turntable, need I say more?
▶ Photography in the Age of Communicative Capitalism by Ben Burbridge
One of the temples I visited in Kyoto this week provided an unintentional reminder of how beautiful feedback can be…. This particular temple has a massive hall/meeting room with a famously painted ceiling….. but the only way to view this ceiling is to take a guided tour…. And when I fronted up for the tour I was advised the tour was ‘Japanese only’ – NO PROBLEM I said & paid my 500 yen.
When we were led into the hall space, the ceiling was indeed beautiful… and our guide proceeded to explain in great detail the back story for the ceiling – or at least I can only presume so, as my slim grasp on Japanese language was not of much use here…. But what was unintentionally beautiful was that she was using a microphone, with speakers feeding/replaying into the large hall chamber….
Every time she paused, the reverb would start to feedback (presumably some compression or limiting was occurring in the PA system) and slowly I started to pay more attention to the feedback, than to what she was saying….
And slowly, it became a concert of slowly evolving reverbant feedback – her voice providing the somewhat relentless input, and the speakers feeding back into the reverbant space providing the beautiful sustained tones…
It made me think