After watching a presentation of my work at a conference, a musician I greatly admire asked very politely: "But how do you document when all of this becomes art?" One could be forgiven for finding the preceding process chapters tedious and boring, venturing too far into what Jeff Pressing, in psychological terms, called "a repertoire of pattern reference and analysis routines". But for me as an artist, it is exactly this kind of repetitive, patient work that eventually, bit by bit, can help me create on the spot, with a distinct musical accent saturating as much of my playing as possible: Repeating this material enough times makes you hear it, in Inderberg's terms.
In the following excerpt, the elements developed in this exposition were combined with others I've worked with earlier, and I'll leave it to the listener to assess whether or not I'm on to something here. I tried to use polyrhythmic and bitonal elements to establish an abstract way of invoking folk motifs. The rhythm section that's underpinned most of the examples in this exposition is now gone, leaving it up to me to either supply an indication of rhythm with my foot (as in the pols footstomp from 00:36 through 01:58), or rhythm and drone (as the halling-like groove from 02:00 and onwards). I chose to reintroduce some imitations of double-stops from Norwegian fiddling, since the mandola register lends itself very well to this typical feature of Nordic folk music. I recorded the passage with no stops, punch-ins or edits, and structured it loosely along a string of ideas that I had defined, but that I deviated from on a few occasions.
One thing that misfired here is that I would have preferred for the little semi-composed theme at 03:03 to enter with an upbeat of two 8th notes, landing on the first beat of a 4/4 period, but I seem to have placed it on the fourth beat instead. Halling rhythm is often just indicative of a pulse rather than a time signature, so I could have gotten away with this, but it was my intention to land on the "one".