I’ve been thinking and talking about in-ear microphone interaction ala non zero one’s shows, particularly You’ll See Me (Sailing to Antartica).
Photo copyright ludo des cognets, 2012.
There, on the roof of the NT you sat around a table which reflected the sky and our faces, we had mics and earpieces so we could talk across the table to everyone. The effect was that I felt connected to everyone, to the world, but also alone. But this aloneness was pleasing as I was connecting to myself, my past, my pleasures and thinking about my unique place in the world. This link between being a part of a small group, sharing personal information, but also, in the moments of gentle cacophony, using people as a surface to bounce off, to reflect my self. It was beautiful.
Intimacy and loneliness.
When does an amplified digital sound in the ear reassure or highlight our humanity and soft, emotional things? When does it alienate us from ourselves and take us away to a better or darker place?
When are we lonely? In a crowd? On our own?
Is loneliness a bad thing? It’s not something we necessarily feel forever so can we take pleasure in experiencing this, one of many other natural human feelings, like jealousy and delight?
A voice in the ear – when is it your own self telling you things, the world speaking to you, you imagining what another is saying, someone narrating your life? I am interested in playing with the technicalities of this.
The video below I found by accident. I was looking up what “Performance based installation” meant. The video shows a group reading out words on a ribbon, which connects them all. They are also reading in their own time. The simultaneous connection and disconnection in a crowd. Some are not reading at all, and are chatting. And the walls of the room have been used to add to this created environment.
How to start a cacophony? How to end it? Perhaps it just plays out over a long time, determined by the participants, in this case, the audience very much included?