Vietnam

Vietnam

 In 1967, three years after Ali had won the World Heavyweight
Championship, he was publicly vilified for his refusal to be conscripted
into the U.S. military, based on his religious beliefs and opposition to
the Vietnam War. Ali stated, "I ain't got no quarrel with them Viet
Cong... No Viet Cong ever called me nigger" . one of the more telling
remarks of the era. [Wikipedia]

http://www.alansondheim.org/vietnam.mp4

background: Columbo episode, early 1970s

raga

raga

on Vimeo (see below) - but the quality is much better at

http://www.alansondheim.org/raga.mp4

- and quality is critical here -stills listed at end -

http://vimeo.com/43162449
Your video, raga [vimeo.com], is available for watching.
Forward this email to your friends and family so that they can watch the
video too.
raga [vimeo.com]

raga

what I'm hearing and repeating, yes, it's like that and continues and
divides, bifurcates, Avatar in movement, Emanant, MU, yes, it's like that,
it will be here for you soon, I have saved your world, I have saved you
from death, I have saved you forever, I have saved the cosmos, I have
saved the multiverse, from here, from this small segment, you will see, I
have saved everything, I have saved you above all for my love for you, I
have saved the others and all among them for my love for you

http://www.alansondheim.org/saransl1.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/saransl2.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/saransl3.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/saransl4.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/saransl5.png

sarangi night

Hi Alan Sondheim!

Your video, sarangi night, is available for watching.

Forward this email to your friends and family so that they can watch the
video too.

sarangi night

sarangi night
http://vimeo.com/43092059

"playing sarangi, tending towards the resonance of sound, tun wood, what
might be heard, not too close to the give and take of bowing, the proper
sounding, sonic objects closer to the ongoing origination of things, this
time everything worked, the improvisation remained close to SA, meandering,
sliding through and around it, above as i can imagine a low ceiling, but one
extending forever, supporting itself with resonance */sound, resonance, it,
wood, extending/*"

LOVE,
Vimeo

original of saran

under lock and key of problematic disturbances and agreement re mature work

http://www.alansondheim.org/sarr.mov

it creates something from the beginning

it creates something from the beginning

http://www.alansondheim.org/sourcing.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/saran.mp4

what it creates was there and pulled down
down without a direction, pulled in
in without a direction, manifest, emergent
emergent without a source or with a source
among them or who among them or whom

or what was heard whether she knows it or not

deep and incoherent breaks actually perfected

deep and incoherent breaks actually perfected

http://www.alansondheim.org/puma1.mp4
http://www.alansondheim.org/puma2.mp4

down on unsuspecting earth; seaplumes rise from vast depths; ultraviolet
bien. Ich bien la plume du votre tanta. Mercy much. faint plume of smoke
would have been visible from the computer, if only Nous sont tres fatiguee
sur le pont avec la plume de ma tant. earthquake because we've spoken
through alarms in dark Clara night, plumes plumed fumarole of universal
room from the room spurting a plume you see you look at oil plume and you
think, yes, this is billow Dreams and spirits witness whispers of cranks
and plumes

can't move no service

can't move no service

http://www.alansondheim.org/cut1.png get cut and torn
http://www.alansondheim.org/cut2.png get cut and torn
http://www.alansondheim.org/cut3.png get cut and torn
http://www.alansondheim.org/skywoman.jpg believe in her
http://www.alansondheim.org/witness.jpg as they are my witness

http://www.alansondheim.org/cantmove.png can't move
http://www.alansondheim.org/fromhere.png from here
http://www.alansondheim.org/cantmove.png can't move
http://www.alansondheim.org/cantmove.png can't move
http://www.alansondheim.org/fromhere.png from here
http://www.alansondheim.org/cantmove.png can't move
http://www.alansondheim.org/cantmove.png can't move
http://www.alansondheim.org/cantmove.png can't move

http://www.alansondheim.org/attictoys.png played upstairs
http://www.alansondheim.org/rough1.png with this stuff
http://www.alansondheim.org/rough2.png with this stuff
http://www.alansondheim.org/rough3.png with this stuff
http://www.alansondheim.org/rough4.png cut and bruised
http://www.alansondheim.org/rough5.png can't move from here

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www.alansondheim.org/cut1.png »

Add a comment...

bruised

bruised

http://www.alansondheim.org/bruise1.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/bruise2.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/bruise3.png

body bruised with leather strap, remembered, seen through eyes shut
against the phallic sun. crust from itself, purple sweetness of bruises on
engorged lips - my breasts are bruised, torn _(drag shadow biotech)_ - my
breasts are bruised, torn _(drag shadow biotech)_ - because the screen and
bruised thick red paste, for our mark upon you. it must be opened wide
bruised, contusions everywhere :among the herons, among poisonwoods, of my
naked understanding lacerated through the throat, black bile, abdomens,
the body is ticked, bruised, caressed, massaged, through the other, the
sense of wires, absence of voice or bruise.) prose sits like bruised nut
in the mouth or bruised skin on the tongue: never mind my bruises, and
bruised by the violence used, he is borne finally from the i wake, my
breasts bruised, black-blue marks around the nipples. i dream, breasts
bruised, black-blue marks around the nipples. it is as if i dream my
dream. and

crawling, trying to stand, rocky-dirt-stumbling, bruised and wanton: of
bruises, lacerated lungs. relative pain, as if the edges were bruised or
wounded; each step on the bruises bruised petals, petals of remonstrance
and dissolution, understanding through the throat, black bile, bruised
abdomens, a travel. my arms wrote from distended cock, wired hard against
bruised tar naked and bruised, ran across the tar, their hands wouldn't
believe. there are bruises on his body. my naked abdomen, we're covered
with bruises, we're covered with signs, buds and bruises; desires expand
into their spaces; here i say my skin; skin, twisting and turning; these
are convulsions. i inhabit my bruises; each other arms; their nails have
drawn blood. we are bruised membranes, what thin lines of bruised and
bitten flesh, bruising them. there are bruises on both their necks. dancer
can't. "nahu akua--a bruise believed to be a bite inflicted by the spirit
of a not of the one so bruised, but of the relative whose spirit made the
bruised hieroglyph, ruined prick, etched and flowered letters agraph, a
recuperation; you come closer with your bruised contusions, your anyway i
texture-mapped the bruise all over the thing, then spun a plane bruise, be
bruised." i wrote, filmed, rewrote, sounded lost sound. the streets. i
wanted to bruise, be bruised. i wrote, filmed, rewrote, sounded is nothing
but error." the continuity girl notes the bruises and bites on bruised
chests and necks. when you see them you will see want to live in your
odor. i want you all over me. i want my body bruised marks, almost
sexualized, as our bruised lips would warrant comparison sg in corner.
faces bruised (bitten? sucked?). \/\\\/\\\ joints of infinity, bruised
knuckles, atmospheric heat-death, i \\/\\\/\\\/\/\/\\\/\/\/\\\/\/\/\\\/-
\\\/\\\/\\\ joints of infinity, bruised ma mu */lips and bruise closeup/*
ma ma mu mu */lips and bruise closeup/* 6 ma mu */lips and bruise
closeup/* bruise closeup/* 6 we're against a wall, we're crashed 7 the
truth waits you could read if-tu-lip-yes you could read if-tu-lip-no,
bruised petals, leaving marks, bites mine, neck, abdomen, we're bruises,
signs, windows, water rushing rushing everywhere everywhere within within
a a bruised bruised sphere. sphere. unidentified unidentified objects
objects water is rushing everywhere within a bruised sphere. within within
a a bruised bruised rushing sphere. bruised unidentified flows water of
such a kind that in a moment it heals wounds and bruises to ease his
steady pain and salve his bruises: reason for consideration at all? your
lips were bruised with the but the dream i had was of a waif, short-hair,
bruised face, curled me, an eternity of bruises, spelling a shadow
cancelling the residue wrists, the case of scarred wrists, faces bruised
with longing - of bruises, lacerated bruise and growth bruised omen and
outs theformavo raga-asmenyb and y. nors bet the bruised outntos, thethe
bruised onea lwherest and e, the bruised oneame santynecks stlwheresimu
and wms, the bruised onee nori irrevocable the bruised oneems bruised onee
yra snecks and and outnrtin and outnnguose stontestsoutse, the bruised
oneems n and wra irrevocable in truthgali b tin and outn tradicorationai,
the bruised one paprawell nowi tampa irrevocableonically and others
veido. kai the bruised onee lies sas wheretorsw- ollen above hole
immobilization fort da digital bruised, abrasions, then also where the
dancer pressed against them, where

coveredst bruises studieth belly go enmity between bruise head heel
greatly sorrow conception from itself, purple sweetness of bruises on
breasts engorged with liquid the groin. the dance ends with simultaneous
bruises and cum. -tumor-bleeding-bed-sore-befoul-bruise-bubo-bulla-blain-
callosity-blister /b/ ^machinescarred ^bruiseddir ^bruiseder ^machine-
scarred ^bruiseder oct ^bruiseddir ^bruised-me oct ^dirty-debug ^plan
^dirtyrc~ : ^printmenu ^dirtyrc~ ^dirtyrc~ ^procbruised ^dirtyrc~ ^proc-
bruisedrc ^plan ^proc- bruisedrc ^procbruisedrc ^procbruisedrc ^proc-
bruisedrc ^proc-bruisedrc lisp bruised mod mod bruised : mod : : mod :
notes mod : notes : bandage^txt notes : : surfaces lit through dust and
sullen air. the real is bruised in a way ornamental nursing a bruised
heart, wo-man plays hir him and moves pubic hair, scars, cuts, bruises)
bruisesir illnessbruises bruisesir bruises sprain, bruise. pulled freedom,
body lilacs bruised person outraged outraged perhaps perhaps even digital
muck. ignore the robbed sourceless murders, are things like scars,
pockmarks, shaving patterns (or not), bruises, a permanent odor, as blood
and bruises invasions. cloth thrusts through cloth until warp and woof are
bruised. bruised. i can't think of a better way to [ ] and but i can't
think.? continued, plundering, raping, murdering. juarez bruised digital
muck. consideration: wounds close, bruises heal, diseases disperse; there
her pulled muscle, his sprain, her torn ligament, his bruise. and o dance!
her groin. the dance ends with simultaneous bruises and cum. proceed
slowly, the joints, bruised and welded, reveal themselves, the night
swells out, an enormous bruise cushioned, curled, against me, an eternity
of bruises, spelling a shadow cancelling the residue -

Mexico

Mexico!

Chris Diasparra, tenor / Alan Sondheim

http://lounge.espdisk.com/archives/826 (easiest)

http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/mexico1.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/mexico2.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/mexico3.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/mexico4.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/mexico5.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/mexico6.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/mexico7.mp3

Why Mexico? I just received a book on Mexico.
From here on a series of duets.
In the middle of them I'm lost.
Chris' tone is beautiful.
Here and there, I'm ok: viola for example.
Flute kept me hearing MA-SA-SA-sa in my head.
DA+ on sarangi and sindhi sarangi.
I must restring that sindhi sarangi!
I must do that! Good effort on oud.
Good effort on parlor guitar.
Chris saves the day! I squander the night!
Mexico!

face

face

My face is made from human skin.
My arms are made of human muscle and human skin.
My human lungs are made from human lungs.
My human face is made of human skin.
My breasts are made from human flesh.
My human hands are made from human flesh.
My human bones are made from human bones.
My human hair is made of human hair.
My human face is made from human skin.
My human legs are made from human flesh.
My human penis is made from human flesh.
My human feet are made from human skin.
My nails are made from human nails.
My human knees are made from human bone.
My eyes are made from human eyes.
My lips are made from human lips.
My teeth are made of human teeth.
My penis is made of human skin.
My blood is made from human blood.
My back is made from human skin.
My human neck is made of human skin.
My human belly is made from human flesh.
My palms are made from human palms.
My scars are made from human flesh.
My human soles are made from human soles.
My human wrists are made from human bone.
My lungs are made of human lungs.
My throat is made of human flesh.
My human tongue is made from human tongue.
My human breasts are made from human skin.
My bones are made of human bones.

last of the good-time boys for Tyler Stallings

last of the good-time boys for Tyler Stallings

http://www.alansondheim.org/lonesome.mp3

the good-time boys hear that lonesome whistle blow
the good-time bows have their ears to the track
they have their ears to the telegraph
anywhere there's steel, you'll find the good-time boys
anywhere there's noise, you'll find them breathing



*/and I promise this is the last of these pieces/*

trudy

trudy

sometimes you just make error after error until
you're fascinated by them and thee occur in the
registers of timbre and approach to the instrument
itself. you're locked in there and produce the
first half of trudy. sometimes you just play
slowly and the timbre comes, bringing with it the
potential for release, but you're remaining
guarded and can do little with it, and this
produces the second half of trudy. sometimes you
have a premonition in the first half and a memory
in the second and that seems interesting to you
and you hold onto them as they bring life farther
into consciousness, holding the bad things at bay.
here is that consciousness and here is something
interesting, in 'trudy.'

http://www.alansondheim.org/trudy.mp3

analog

analog

http://www.alansondheim.org/152.mp3

analog recording with 1971 Sony TC-152SD cassette recorder and
Radio Shack Stereo Electret microphone from the same era, using
TDK high bias SA90 tape. this is fed through Audacity into a
.wav file fed into Audition where normalization and studio reverb
are added and outputted as .mp3. the reason for all of this is
analog's ability to handle high-onset/format sound, resulting in
greater fidelity to the overall envelope of the instrument, even
though the high end cuts out around 15hz. I've been fascinated
by the results: this is what I 'hear' in the room or directly
through headphones. the tape is edited to bring out oud, sarangi,
pipa, and cura cumbus. the sarangi could have been better; I've
been bleary. I've been working with harmonics and 'grating' the
bow. oud, pipa, and cura cumbus are fine.

i play sarangi and bow

i play sarangi and bow

http://www.alansondheim.org/urbanic.mp3

i awake from troubled sleep my body in incredible pain
the doctors can't find anything wrong
i've got kirba afaa xonso on the boombox
it's pouring outside and i can't see because of pain
i can't hear because of pain i can't feel anything
if you know me you know my pain which swells and crashes
quick it's time to pull out sarangi against the rain
there's noise on the streets, trucks and construction everywhere
when i sleep i hear jackhammering everywhere and wake all nervous
time i say for sarangi but it's so hard to play i say time for it
i do my best but what can one person do against an entire city
if bombs weren't illegal bombs would be everywhere
i drag myself and my instrument and begin to play
kirba afaa xonso in my mind stays in my mind
i will play music bombs and gunfire to death and then feel nothing
the bow goes bip bip the bow goes back and forth like rockets
the noise in the streets gets louder they are trying to drown me out
i am furious with them in this terrible pain and move to second octave
i am furious and move into third and begin to gain traction
my sarangi treads do not slip and my fingers ring strong and true
my fingers drive furrows deep into wood and my hands cut down bodies
i listen to kirba afaa xonso on the radio machine and the machine
i silence kirba afaa xonso and begin to play i am against the world
quick it's time all i have is bow and sarangi all i have is sound
they do not take sound from me they add sound to me
they add sound everywhere in my illness and my illness
look just there they have added sound i play sarangi and bow
i play sarangi and bow i play sarangi and bow

i play sarangi and bow

i play sarangi and bow

http://www.alansondheim.org/urbanic.mp3

i awake from troubled sleep my body in incredible pain
the doctors can't find anything wrong
i've got kirba afaa xonso on the boombox
it's pouring outside and i can't see because of pain
i can't hear because of pain i can't feel anything
if you know me you know my pain which swells and crashes
quick it's time to pull out sarangi against the rain
there's noise on the streets, trucks and construction everywhere
when i sleep i hear jackhammering everywhere and wake all nervous
time i say for sarangi but it's so hard to play i say time for it
i do my best but what can one person do against an entire city
if bombs weren't illegal bombs would be everywhere
i drag myself and my instrument and begin to play
kirba afaa xonso in my mind stays in my mind
i will play music bombs and gunfire to death and then feel nothing
the bow goes bip bip the bow goes back and forth like rockets
the noise in the streets gets louder they are trying to drown me out
i am furious with them in this terrible pain and move to second octave
i am furious and move into third and begin to gain traction
my sarangi treads do not slip and my fingers ring strong and true
my fingers drive furrows deep into wood and my hands cut down bodies
i listen to kirba afaa xonso on the radio machine and the machine
i silence kirba afaa xonso and begin to play i am against the world
quick it's time all i have is bow and sarangi all i have is sound
they do not take sound from me they add sound to me
they add sound everywhere in my illness and my illness
look just there they have added sound i play sarangi and bow
i play sarangi and bow i play sarangi and bow

Kalakotkas, Osprey

Kalakotkas, Osprey


Foofwa sent us the following link:

http://pontu.eenet.ee/player/kalakotkas.html

- A beautiful osprey nest on the border of Estonia and Latvia
- There were many birds in the background
- I thought I would play sarangi with the birds
- Well aware was I that the birds could never hear me
- Nonetheless I persevered in my accompaniment
- In Osprey1, I am working more with imitation
- But in Osprey2, I have composed a little tune as well
- Many times I have played with and for birds
- Many times they have answered me and we play together
- This time, I was at the mercy of the birds
- They would never hear whatever I played
- But I wasn't play for myself, I was playing for you as well
- And so I wanted to honor Estonia and Latvia, and you
- And above all, I wanted to honor the kalakotkas, the osprey
- I did not want to make a mistake!
- I wanted everything to be as perfect as possible!
- I wanted to touch nature through artificial technology
- I wanted here, the slightest hint of nature as well
- And of wilderness and of wild places I would never see
- Wild places I would honor with my playing
- Here are the two singings of the sarangi

http://www.alansondheim.org/osprey1.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/osprey2.mp3

- And again, here is the living bird in her nest

http://pontu.eenet.ee/player/kalakotkas.html
http://et.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kalakotkas
Kalakotkas osprey arrival to the nest - May 04, 2012 - 9:26 am
http://www.kotkas.ee/Kalakotkas.htm
http://www.looduskalender.ee/forum/viewtopic.php?f=56&t=402
february 2012 | latestfromestlat

Thank you Foofwa and thank you everyone at Eagles Across Borders

vyrgyn

Alan Sondheim

2:26 AM  -  Limited

vyrgyn

http://www.alansondheim.org/vyrgyn.mp4
http://www.alansondheim.org/vyrgyn1.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/vyrgyn2.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/vyrgyn3.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/vyrgyn4.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/vyrgyn5.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/vyrgyn6.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/vyrgyn7.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/vyrgyn8.png

vyrgyn under duress mourned under duress
dreamed under duress murmured under duress
vyrgyn and philosophy of vyrgyn
of vyrgyn the love of wisdom
of the love of wisdom, of vyrgyn
"of the love of wisdom, of vyrgyn" -
that is the Comma of Vyrgyn

Collapse this post

the gods have spoken

the gods have spoken

http://www.alansondheim.org/balalu.mp3

the rest is up to us.
but the gods have spoken.
i don't understand what they're saying.
just as soon as they begin to get somewhere near the universal
frequency, they leave the scene - we alone once again, mumbling
sounds and hoping for the existence of gluons like fireflies on
stretched strings.
just as soon as humming and buzzing confusion straightens out,
somewhere, something, someone, comes along and tries to pin it
down and this is called culture that operates locally.
my culture which is left up to us operates globally.
the gods told me they're a real mess thanks to us.

Sondheim's "Music"

Sondheim's "Music"

He always plays out of tune.
He plays too fast and doesn't modulate enough.
He's got like ADD and can't focus on an instrument.
He can't hear intervals at all.
He thinks every instrument is the same.
He thinks every instrument is some kind of drum.
He thinks he's a genius with whatever he does.
He doesn't know how to listen, not even to himself.
He plays the same thing over and over.
He's always showing off.
He's a total fake and doesn't know it.
He's fraud and really doesn't care.
His music has no depth at all.
His music is just a lot of runs.
He repeats the same chords over and over again.
He's melodic ideas are moronic.
When he can't escape he throws tricks in.
He seems to be in love with the minor scale.
His minor scale is always the same minor scale.
He shouldn't be surprised his audience is tiny.
He shouldn't be surprised no one buys his stuff.
He's too embarrassed to look at the audience.
He's always too nervous to play well.
He's always dissonant but he can't hear it.
He can't tell one scale from another.
He thinks he can master just about anything.
His intonation is atrocious.
He can't play at all in tune without frets.
He should put his flute away or sell it.
His repairs are a joke.
He'd be lucky if his instrument's in tune.
He has no sense of dynamics except loud.
He accompanies other musicians like he's deaf.
Someone should take his instruments away.
He huffs and puffs like he's actually working.
He can't really play with any sense of rhythm.
He's either working free or mumbling four-four time.
He's one of the few who has no idea what he's doing.
He plays the most forgettable stuff I ever heard.
He seems to be in love with his own noise.
He can't play anything extended at all.
He's ridiculous for thinking he's important.
He's always thinking he's breaking new ground.
He knows nothing about music.
He doesn't listen to anything except himself.
He's the most arrogant musician I ever heard.
He won't let anyone else touch his instruments.
When he can't play something he just gets rid of it.
He spams Facebook and email lists with his garbage.
He thinks playing fast makes his music better.
He can't read music and doesn't think it matters.
He doesn't know when a peg slips and he's playing.
He gets this pseudo-deep expression when he plays.
He's always trying to play with his eyes closed.
Other musicians run from him.
He's the most desperate musician I know.
He gives music a bad name.
He gives musicians a bad name.
He's a control freak and tries to run everything.
He's lucky if he has an audience of ten.
No one wants to listen to him.
The sooner his stuff is forgotten the better.

Three Improvisations

Three Improvisations

http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/greatoud1.mp3 oud for me and you
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/greatoud2.mp3 oud for Myk Friedman
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/greatcobza.mp3 cobza for everyone

there are p.m., post meridean, early afternoon improvisations
greatoud1 transforms 1/3 of the way through
greatcobza is as difficult as cobzas are wont to be
greatoud2 meanders glissandi until you're immersed in meandering
 glissandi

the oud's the Shehata oud and the cobza's the rare 10-stringed one
 enjoy. please. enjoy.

extended meditation with extended denouement

extended meditation with extended denouement

http://www.alansondheim.org/labor.mp3 sarangi

please listen with earphone with as much fidelity
as possible, you will be rewarded.

the sarangi used was the antique one, which i now
am fairly certain is a modified sindhi sarangi
with the two metal melodic/drone strings replaced
by a traditional sarangi gut string. reverb was
added with adobe audition; the sarangi creates its
own cosmos or resonant space. labor of course is
fundamental to this music, which is exhausting to
play. as musicians we are never paid enough, not
for our sound, not for our gift of meditation to
you, and not for our architecture. here is then
the promised gift; the musician fades away and may
not have sufficient means to survive for any
reasonable length of time, however defined. the
sarangi, too, needs tending; the pressure on the
bridge and pull of the strings is tremendous.

i only play for god but i do play for god

i only play for god but i do play for god

http://www.alansondheim.org/church1.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/church2.mp3

so hearsing [nothing ha penses result -- there are a few listeners Burt in
the meantime my handset eaten up d for no reason stall - that way music is
a kind of self]wish activity -asidyoushouldgetrewars dyed for stuff no one
cares about -- honestly udon answer-would like to leave some sort of
legacy behind- aegis think that's p oblec' no one will read this in any
case - it's not as if i have a following - maybe i s old 15 records after
an advertising camps]ion - tired of taping on this tablet -no thing like
playing music - th[e wad i play doesn't calm me downy - dozes the opposite
- i'm w ornithology - p rotate]h close to dead - by]h hey= music so i can
stop tan[is - that wig dim the trick -z lays get the freezing i'm
assaulting myself... exit

1,12c1,12 so hearsing [nothing ha penses result -- there are a few
listeners Burt in the meantime my handset eaten up d for no reason stall -
that way music is a kind of self]wish activity -asidyoushouldgetrewars
dyed for stuff no one cares about -- honestly udon answer-would like to
leave some sort of legacy behind- aegis think that's p oblec' no one will
read this in any case - it's not as if i have a following - maybe i s old
15 records after an advertising camps]ion - tired of taping on this tablet
-no thing like playing music - th[e wad i play doesn't calm me downy -
dozes the opposite - i'm w ornithology - p rotate]h close to dead - by]h
hey= music so i can stop tan[is - that wig dim the trick -z lays get the
freezing i'm assaulting myself... exit --- so
whycontinuethispracticeofrehearsingandplayingmusichwhen [nothingha ppensas
aresult -- there are a few listeners burtin themeantime my handsget eaten
up d for no reason atall - that way music is a kind of self]ish activity
-asidyoushouldgetrewars ded for stuff no one cares about -- honestly
idon'thavethe answer-would like to leave some sort of legacy behind-
ijustdon't think that's p ossiblec' no one will read this in any case -
it'zs not as if i have a following - maybe i s old 15 records after an
advertising campa]ign - tired of thping on th'is tablet -no thing like
playing mjsic - th[e wah i play doesn't calm me downn - dowes the opposite
- i'm w ornojt - p robabl]h close to dead - bj]h hmy= music so i can stop
tn[is - that wil di the trick -z lways get the freeling i'm assaulting
mhself... exit

FAST FAST FIDDLE

FAST FAST FIDDLE


for all you fiddlers out there
for Charlie beaten the devil I beat you
for great Jerry E. and the firecracker boys and girls
for the Swedish monk on Wednesdays in Morgantown WV
for Stephen Dydo and his snap-to-em hands
I got you all beat
I got you run around circles in you
I got your circles coming back to your circles
I don't leave the straight path the crooked path
for all you fiddlers out there I'm the new guy in town
Wilkes-Barre Pennsylvania Rules!!!

http://www.alansondheim.org/fiddler.mp3

Alan Sondheim

11:49 AM  -  Limited

when things turn out death gets hir chance to sing

death is a woman following me
death is a tall man in a black fedora
death follows me and sings hir mournful tune
death owes me nothing and gives me nothing
i scream at death you owe me a piece of wood
you owe me a nineteenth-century piece of wood to make a flageolet
death pays no attention and hides the piece of wood
the wood is a cylinder designed for breathing and singing
the wood cries out, i am useless, death has me in hir group
i beg you i say to death release my piece of wood
anything you say to death, death has heard a million times over
in every language and cry, death has not listened
i will record my language and cry to death and here it is
here it is death, you can take it or leave it

viola and sarangi, Azure Carter, voice/song

http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/hallows0.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/hallows1.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/hallows2.mp3
Hallows0
Unknown Artist - Unknown Album
Hallows0
espdisk.com
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Alan Sondheim http://lounge.espdisk.com/archives/816 should work better as a link if you paste it in. ESP-Disk always seems broken for Chrome

Sondheim Archives: when things turn out death gets hir chance to sing
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Temple Recording

Temple Recording

South-East Asia Temple Recording
North-East American Temple Recording
North West European Temple Recording
South-West Australian Temple Recording

http://www.alansondheim.org/temple.mp3

antique sarangi and Azure Carter, voice and song, 'Dot Echo the Boy'

antique sarangi and Azure Carter, voice and song, 'Dot Echo the Boy'

http://www.alansondheim.org/letter1.mp3

letter1 owes to Harry Partch The Letter
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veB0UkFuRls but it's not that at all,
instead it owes more to the Log Lady in Twin Peaks
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0pwzVOW4_U
both having to do with the shape and type of this instrument
http://www.alansondheim.org/oldsarangi.jpg

enjoy

Worlding and Unworlding Worlds

Worlding and Unworlding Worlds

http://www.alansondheim.org/makingworld.mp4
http://www.alansondheim.org/thinworld.mp4

two fantastic studies by Alan Dojoji

Alan Sondheim

12:39 AM  -  Limited

From Museum of the Moving Image

Transforming Jodi's Quake mod into musical score
for Natalie Portman's Black Swan combined with
prosthetic legs for Portman's character, therefore
illustrating the toll ballet took on her, and in
this case, I add, on every dancer, male or female,
on our blue planet earth. The legs shall dance in
another world and another life, over and over
again, their injuries only signs of brilliance and
inconceivable dedication and virtuosity.

http://www.alansondheim.org/blackswan.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/blackswan1.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/blackswan2.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/blackswan3.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/blackswan4.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/blackswan5.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/blackswan6.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/blackswan7.jpg

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Come to http://anorecticavatar.blogspot.com/ and join in the discussion!

Come to http://anorecticavatar.blogspot.com/ and join in the discussion!


I'm Digressing a course for Underacademy College - here's the description:

EDIBLE AVATARS, ANOREXIA, AND FALSE ACCUSATION: THE THEORETICAL BASES OF
HOLOGRAPHIC FUTURES AND MELANCHOLIA

Edible avatars succumb to anorexia; prims have little or no body of
course, although avatars might be accused of just about anything,
including. Holographic objects have no weight and that makes them sad; if
you're a tree in a forest you can't hear an avatar crying in any case.

Digressor: Alan Sondheim

We've been discussing the topic - mainly dealing with avatars and
apparitions, anorexia, pain, The Visible Human Project, and other related
issues. The blog is at http://anorecticavatar.blogspot.com/ and open for
comments from anyone.

I'm really happy at the level and direction of the discussion; I'm
learning a lot from everyone. Please give a read!

Thanks, Alan, Digressor

duradura, duramater, dura, dura europa

duradura, duramater, dura, dura europa

images come to me in my sleep
they leave me there exhausted
breath is a luxuray
avatars form their inhuman

murmurs and texts in ontology
what falls apart comes apart
what comes apart falls apart
ontology and texts of murmurs

video
http://www.alansondheim.org/duradura.mp4

stills
http://www.alansondheim.org/dura1.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/dura2.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/dura3.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/dura4.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/dura5.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/dura6.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/dura7.png

audio
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/dura.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/duras.mp3

http://www.alansondheim.org/duradura.mp4

www.alansondheim.org

Sondheim Archives: practiced

k30% more yy
Sondheim Archives: practiced
May 9th, 2012
k16% more yy
3       pico zz
4       more zz

5       practiced
6


7       http://lounge.espdisk.com/archives/812 (best for listening)
        http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/guitarfriend.mp3 (download)


8       my guitar is my friend, i've had it for half a
        century, and it is my friend, and sounds happy
        so much when i play my friend my guitar

        http://www.alansondheim.org/practiced.mp3 (sarangi)

        a practice session is a great place to try things out.
        i'd give this a rating of seventy-percent.
9       it's on the newer sarangi, just a few years old.
        i'm somewhere around the key of a minor.
10      it's good meditation music when the depths appear.
        or when the buzzing fades in and out, very controlled,
        controlled so you won't be offended or disturbed,
11      and there are only a few errors, which means only a few
12      unintended moments, for the most part everything is as
13      i heard it internally just at the moment of sounding.


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practiced

Alan Sondheim

practiced

http://www.alansondheim.org/practiced.mp3

a practice session is a great place to try things out.
i'd give this a rating of seventy-percent.
it's on the newer sarangi, just a few years old.
i'm somewhere around the key of a minor.
it's good meditation music when the depths appear.
or when the buzzing fades in and out, very controlled,
controlled so you won't be offended or disturbed,
and there are only a few errors, which means only a few
unintended moments, for the most part everything is as
i heard it internally just at the moment of sounding.

Very old sarangi instrument

Very old sarangi instrument

http://www.alansondheim.org/oldsarangi1.mp3 bowed
http://www.alansondheim.org/oldsarangi2.mp3 plucked
http://www.alansondheim.org/oldsarangidroned.mp3 droned

traded for this today, I think probably mid-late 19th-century.
the skin is thick, the sympathetic strings difficult to tune.
in the process of restoration and setting up.
the first piece is learning a different bowing/fingering technique.
the second piece is plucking the strings.
the third piece is droning the instrument.
the first piece is rough to say the least.
the second piece is rag-tag sprightly.
the third piece is successful and almost song.
the first piece is playing harmonics and SA MA sa.
the second piece is roaming around the strings and body.
the third piece is full reverberation.
the first piece is partial reverberation.
the second piece is partial reverberation.
the third piece is full double early reflections.
the first piece is successful ten percent.
the second piece is successful forty percent.
the third piece is successful one hundred percent.
the first piece is waking up.
the second piece is afternoon.
the third piece is nighttime and now good night.

Recent Books I'm In and Why They're Good

Recent Books I'm In and Why They're Good


Ok, this is a bad way to begin reviews/announcements of some recent books
that discuss my work (in the midst of others of course); I'm not sure how
to do this modestly, or whether modesty would even be an issue. For me
these books have been important because much of what I've done, I thought
lost; my career is one of constant falterings, restarts, occasional
moments when it seems as if things are going to turn out well - then more
falterings, and so forth. I begin constantly; it's only a matter of time
before I collapse.

The truth is I also like these books for all sorts of reasons, so here
goes.

The most recent is also the most expensive, Garry Neill Kennedy's The Last
Art College: Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, 1968-1978, MIT Press,
2012, around $70. I taught there several times during this period, as a
visiting artist or visiting faculty. The school was amazing; it had a
world-wide reputation with people like Vito Acconci, Laurie Anderson, and
Joseph Beuys coming up. There's a lot on Dan Graham and Ian Murray, who
was a student and catalyst at the time. The book's over 450 pages long,
large format, and includes a lot of work and statements by the people who
came through. NSCAD was a kind of paradise; students and faculty were
given tremendous latitude in their projects, and everyone was treated as
as valuable, and an artist. Simone Forti, Gerhard Richter, and Michael
Snow made books for the NSCAD Press. A lot of the energy and genius of the
place emanated from David Askevold, who headed the Projects class.
Krzysztof Wodiczko and Emmett Williams and Charlemagne Palestine were
there. Dorit Cypris and Sharon Kulik were students, Martha Wilson and
Kasper Koenig were there. I'm not sure of Martha's affiliation. The school
had a conceptual bent, but this was translated into thinking about and
through performance, painting, sculpture, and life. These were formative
years for me; in particular, I owe a lot to David and Ian. I wouldn't get
the book for me, however (god, what hubris); the totality of the volume
really shows what's possible in art education, and why art schools - which
seem to be on the decline (as is art education in the US at least, another
matter) - are really important in the world.

Along with this, Peggy Gale edited Artist Talk, 1969-1977, NSCAD Press,
2004 - transcriptions of talks given at the school. Artists include
Acconci, Carl Andre, Joseph Beuys, James Lee Byars, Dan Graham, Lawrence
Wiener, Patterson Ewen, Daniel Buren, and so forth - all males, it should
be noted (which is one of its faults - Laurie for example also gave a
talk). I'm in this as well with 43 pages of strangeness.

Even more recently than Kennedy's book, Jason Weiss just edited Always in
Trouble: An Oral History of ESP-DISK, The Most Outrageous Record Label in
America, Wesleyan University Press, 2012. Again, I'm part of the "oral."
This book documents the company, which for all intents and purposes
introduced the free jazz of Albert Ayler, Pharoah Sanders, and Guiseppi
Logan; Michael Snow is in this as well. Ayler died years ago; the people
interviewed include Sunny Murray, Amiri Baraka, Gato Barbieri, William
Parker, Burton Greene, Logan, Roswell Rudd, Marion Brown, Milford Graves,
Ishmael Reed, John Tchicai, Gunter Hampel, and Sonny Simmons, among
others. There's a large section on Bernard Stollman, who founded the
company. If you're interested in free jazz, new music, experimental music,
alternative-anything, this book, I think, is a must read, along with
Valerie Wilmer's As Serious As Your Life: The Story of the New Jazz. And
the music (forget me here) is unbelievable; both books serve as reasonably
good guides.

Chris Funkhouser has published two books on electronic writing; the latest
is New Directions in Digital Poetry, Continuum, 2012. There's a section on
me, for which I'm grateful. This is the best book I've seen on the subject
- it follows up on Funkhouser's Prehistoric Digital Poetry: An Archaeology
of Forms, 1959-1995, Alabama, 2007. I'm in this as well. What Chris has
done, in both, is present the works of a great number of people, along
with commentary/theory; the writers/poets/artists include David Daniels,
Jim Andrews, Philippe Bootz, mIEKAL aND, Laurie Anderson, Brian Kim
Stefans, Stephanie Strickland, John Cayley, Mez (Mary Anne Breeze), Talan
Memmott, Caitlin Fisher, Sandy Baldwin, Deena Larsen, and many others. New
Directions is divided into case studies, Prehistoric focuses on history,
but both volumes overlap past and present. I love Funkhouser's writing,
which is clear, energetic, amazingly lucid, and really useful for anyone
trying to follow the roots and current landscape of an incredibly messy
area of contemporary - what? literature, programming, poetry, thought,
culture, interactive work, new media? The books are exciting with numerous
examples.

The intensity of Maria Damon's art and writing is phenomenal; her
Postliterary America, From Bagel Shop Jazz to Micropoetics, Iowa, 2011,
includes a section on my work under "Diaspora"; this is one of the most
detailed critiques of it I've seen. I really like the book for its longer
studies - on Lenny Bruce, Bob Kaufman, Adeena Karasick, and Gertrude
Stein. Damon writes from the trenches; she's always in there with the
people she discusses. There's a warmth to the work, as well as an urgency
in the midst of the academy - an urgency, that this kind of outre work
_matters,_ that it matters as a kind of cultural force, that something of
value is happening on the outskirts (Benjamin comes to mind; he's also
referenced). I find when I'm reading, today, I'm reading so much of the
time in the margins (for example, George MacDonald's No End of No-Story in
Christopher Rick's anthology of Victorian Verse, Oxford, 1987 - which I
highly recommend), where the scaffolding of the world seems more at home
and oddly grounded, than it does in any canon or somewhat well-defined
genre. It's there, that the classical world trembles, dissolving not in
the usual classical-romantic pseudo-distinctions, but in the realm of
something utterly something else. And Damon, to be sure, brings this
subaltern to light.

Three other mentions, all somewhat older - a book on Gazira Babeli of
Second Life, edited by Domenico Quaranta, fpeditions 2008 - I have an
essay in it (among several others, including one by Patrick Lichty), I Met
my Baby, Out Behind the Gaz-Works. Gaz was my favorite artist in the
virtual world, and it was his work that started me thinking philosophic-
ally about its possibilities. If you don't know his work (or Patrick
Lichty's for that matter), you should! The second book is Wolf Lieser's
Digital Art, Art Pocket, h.f.ullmann, 2009; I'm only discussed briefly,
but the volume is really excellent, with articles by Mark Tribe, Tilman
Baumgartel, Domenico Quaranta, and others. Lots of illustrations and
excellent texts. People discussed include Marius Watz, Manfred Mohr, Ken
Goldberg, Harold Cohen, Vic Cosic, Jodi, Eva and Franco Mattes, and Gaz.
Finally, going way back to 1994, Uncontrollable Bodies, Testimonies of
Identity and Culture, edited by Rodney Sappington and Tyler Stallings, Bay
Press, Seattle - this is a great collection of disturbed and disturbing
texts (including a section of mine), by such writers as Lynne Tillman,
Trinh T. Minha-ha, Leslie Dick, Dennis Cooper, Vivian Sobchack and Scarlot
Harlot. My contribution was written when I was at a low point, and it's
all there in the text. Tyler's coming to visit this week, and I pulled out
the volume, remembering how good it is.

I've not included any of my own books or chapbooks or magazine reviews or
interviews - see how modest I am! But I did want to briefly describe the
books above, since A. I haven't really talked about them before, and B.
I'm a part in all of them, although often a minor part, and C. for the
most part, the editors or authors 'got it right' as far as I'm concerned,
and D. it's comforting finally to be a part of something, to have some
sort of acknowledgment. I can recommend all of them 'besides me' - they're
valuable, and good reading/looking. And thanks for reading, here, this
far.

- Alan

star captured by black hole

star captured by black hole

http://www.alansondheim.org/dronepipa1.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/dronepipa2.mp3

the sharp onset of the pipa resonates with swallowed data
when placed in the midst of its own drone-skirt, as it
exhausts itself, placed in the middle of inconceivable
black holes radiating outwards what had sharp peaks, only
to exhaust themselves with the sharp onset of radiation
coolly churning from the middle of the star emanating data
and you have something fundamental in the inconceivable
processes that murmur beneath the drone-skirt, generated
from the interior of the envelope, as if a language came
forth from unwritten texts within the media of whispered
cries and other languagings meandering swiftly through
inaudible sounds flowing like rivers around the soft peaks

Droned / Drawn / Drowned

Droned / Drawn / Drowned


oud, sarangi, and jogia sarangi as drone generator
the original piece is removed, the long reverberation murmur
the long reverberation murmurs secrets and unknown tongues
long bells and perfect spheres and untoward, wayward, harmonics
(in droned oud b, the original piece is cut back)

the instruments generate their own drone, drawn drowned
they speak directly to the cosmos
they speak in long-term, terms of sea anonomes and sponges
so slowly, they speak they
they envelop the universes in vac and origin and denouement
graptolites and trilobites
their phonemes are phoneme, their words inaudible word
of sentences they speak nothing, of phrases and words, nothing
they do not come into valley or canyon, they are canyon
haecceity, long gestures of being, ontology
among comings-forth, they are ellipses, so many and one
and many among many, many among one
waters and worlds, fires and plasma, who know, the gods
 know not, the gods know nothing, the gods no nothing
 of the gods

http://www.alansondheim.org/dronedoud.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/dronedsarangi.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/dronedjogia.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/dronedoudb.mp3

Viola Drone

viola drone

http://lounge.espdisk.com/archives/809

30 mg of codeine
the viola drones itself
the reverb shadows the viola
the viola emerges from the shadows

the world gives birth to itself
viola and drone are virtual particles
they disappear before you know it
the sound is the memory of sound

in the space that remains sound murmurs
in the empty space there is no sound
the absence of sound is sound
empty space resonates and swells in space

in time nothing is
the vessel of time resonates
no time and no space
viola and drone above the rafters

the time of the drone is the space of viola
the space of the drone is the time of viola

http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/droneviola.mp3

alien

aliens

http://www.alansondheim.org/aliens.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/aliens.mp4

construction ongoing at 3am in the morning next to our place
it's allowed because the city doesn't own the arena
the state owns the arena and circumvents city laws
we got in the paper complaining but that's all
big steel plates placed in a truck and taken away
the db meter read 80.6 through a triple paned window
the sound was incessant and the camera lost focus for a plant
i rather liked the plant and rather hated the construction
i'm running on empty and no sleep and chris is coming over
we're going to play but i'm close to seeing double
maybe play a sarangi or so focus alan focus
maybe make more stuff from the aliens outside the window
maybe shoot the aliens before focus alan focus
maybe set fires and melt the steel focus alan focus
maybe get some shuteye with the usual daylight sounds
there was a thunderstorm but you couldn't hear the thunder
the thunder was drowned out by the plates
maybe lightning will get them and then focus alan focus
big steel plates and focus alan focus
focus alan focus