Oboe Reed Making and Sorting Tips Before Gouging From Ancient Greece of Theophrastus till the use of the Hellenic Cane of Today.
(2022)
author(s): Christos Tsogias-Razakov
published in: Research Catalogue
The following material is an excerpt from the master’s research exposition: THE IMPORTANCE OF ARUNDO DONAX CANE SELECTION, FOR MANUFACTURERS OF OBOE REEDS (2020) by Christos Tsogias-Razakov.
Limited Publication.
The master’s research exposition was published to members of the KC Research Portal, 3. Internal publication (20/8/2020).
The article is an excerpt from the conclusive chapter of the research exposition (2020) by Christos Tsogias-Razakov.
The Art of Adjusting the Oboe Reed
(2022)
author(s): Christos Tsogias-Razakov
published in: Research Catalogue
The following material is an excerpt from the master’s research exposition: THE IMPORTANCE OF ARUNDO DONAX CANE SELECTION, FOR MANUFACTURERS OF OBOE REEDS (2020) by Christos Tsogias-Razakov.
Limited Publication.
The master’s research exposition was published to members of the KC Research Portal, 3. Internal publication (20/8/2020).
All rights reserved.
The current fragment is from the section: b) from the introductive Chapter I about The Art of Adjusting the Oboe Reed.
Soil Stories, Touching with your Eyes and Seeing with you Hands
(last edited: 2023)
author(s): Nalani Kailing Knauss
connected to: Royal Academy of Art, The Hague
This exposition is in progress and its share status is: visible to all.
I excavate soil’s history using the lenses of photography, geology, etymology, and anthropology. As a visual storyteller, I engage with soil while digging deeper to address questions of human relationship to the natural world and the feeling of being held within the landscape. I use soil as a metaphor for my personal search for belonging.
Can a visceral, human relationship to the earth beneath our feet help us in our fundamental search for connection? As I unearth humanity’s history, delving into all things soil, starting from an exploration of myths and indigenous beliefs, I start to reflect on my own relationship with the California landscape that I call home. I explore what it means to belong and reconnect. Through the physicality of foraging and making with clay, in combination with photographing rocks as my subjects I reflect on belonging as a human connection to place within nature. I write about the split and alienation humanity has gone though of viewing nature as something separate. The disconnection of the right side of the brain with its childlike playfulness, feeling, wondering, and meandering in comparison with modern life’s prioritization of the left brain with its over efficiency and logic.
What would happen if we started to think about soil as a living body and even as a form of language? This substance that we deem inanimate and dirty, and which we mindlessly dump our waste onto, is the memory keeper of human history.
Beneath the layers of substrate, I am curious as to what terminology we use and why. How are the words we use meaningful, and how do they impact our belief systems and values? Can we unlearn the notion that dirt is dirty? What do words say about other words? How can we redefine our language and in so doing change our belief systems which then affect the way we portray, represent, or photograph the natural world?
Photographic language is also a vehicle for the communication of certain narratives, which in my work I use as documentation. Through photography, I engage in a sensual experience of earth in all its substantive expressions: skin, soil, dust, rock, water. Soil and photography share a similar language. When viewing photography or connecting with earth, the audience leaves with an impression, a trace, which then affects the viewer. As a visual storyteller, I strive to awaken a remembering of ancestral knowledge and remind people of their primal kinship with earth.
Questions arise such as how do we engage with touch? What do we even sense in the landscape of our own body? What does this form of re-earthing and re-wording look like? Within a society that is fueled by consumerism and the all-important “I” as ego, can we, when relating to the natural landscape remember what it means to be collectively human in a symbiotic relationship with soil? Can we create a deeper relationship with something as simple as the ground beneath our feet?
My research has been informed by many a author such as Ursula K. le Guin- The Carrier Basket Theory, Dark Ecology by Timothy Morton, Braiding Sweetgrass- Robin Wall Kimmerer
Staying with the Trouble - Donna Haraway, Spell of the Sensuous David Abrum, Tim Ingold and the discourse surrounding Stadium General here at KABK