I found the original file quite enticing to work with for I had never heard anything so alive
(even if statically crystalized in the shape of a digital audio file). I gladly accepted the challenge to craft something meaningful out of the original recording, although this was done not without a substantial amount of worrie
s from my part. Aiming at a ten-minutes concise sonic art piece, that which I had in hands was surely way too much material! I asked myself “what would certainly be of higher important, both to me and to them?”. Without finding the answer to this, an idea came up: Cataloguing! Categorizing things for their aesthetic properties, not for their sociocultural meaning.
In this way, I would achieve something by means of paying a distant and rigorous respect to the material someone came
up with, without presuming I would definitely or deeply understand the value they wanted me to
find in it (which I believe I would really never complete manage to do).I discovered a handful of interesting things whilst composing this track. On was that categorizing things for their aesthetic characteristics and listening back to them out of
their contexts doesn’t quite destroy the practice’s meaning
but rather redefines it. The new trails of apparently senseless blocks of sound start imposing a new meaning onto each particle it is composed by. Laughs, applauds and loose words then become means to say something else than what they were once part of. I would not call this appropriation, as this piece I made really for them and for you! Not for myself. I believe there is something interesting here which, if listened back by the creators of the primordial material, can be of a somewhat
abstract, although clear special value.Upon the emergent network of meanings, I decided to further organize the sound clips I had collected by noise-levels and/or loudness. The whole piece started then following a very simple structure of decreasing loudness and noise, from joyful and strong applause to barely perceptible little utterances and parasonic events, maybe just intentions. Finally, as an intersectionist, I could not hold my urge to intersect
this clear direction-full narrative with something else: bits of the more musical kinds of sections, whichI had not used for the first narrative. This is gained the shape of a quite thick wave of sound gradually
making its way in, taking charge of the middle points and eventually fading
away, pretty much as an emotional swelling burst that lasts, but eventually goes away. Perhaps the very
Joy of Sound.