In the Pendulums embrace In the Pendulums embrace

I never write songs based on a fascination of someone else's work. I don't play that way either. At best, if I hear someone whose playing I find very interesting or good, my initial reaction is to block that from my own expression, thus pushing my artistic output down another route just because I have heard something I like. My impression, and the way people talk about it, is that usually it's the other way around: you hear good, and wants to play as good, or better. Or you take inspiration in that manner, hearing something good before responding to that goodness. In my case it's much more a thing of opposition, that I find valuable. It's almost like my default state is based in creating a meaningful interaction with the world, by the way of representing the other side so that, in a discussion, musical or whatever, both sides of something is represented.

Not that I don't want to play nice, though, I think this applies mostly to my general understanding of a situation, and as follows then that means that it will affect my general artistic response.

#phd

huge question

In the broader sphere:

lot of American jazz

childhood memories

all music I have time to listen to

Narrowing down:

musical inputs, instrument specifics

musical inputs, for self-gratification

musical inputs, teachers and collaborators

musical inputs, friends and informal chats

Alvin Lucier - I am Sitting in a Room

//

If I were to trace genealogy... / Re-take

is a broad sphere necessary, or, on which level does it include everything?

If you want names, I'd say Jan Johansson, Keith Jarrett, Martha Argerich, and that Russian piano-dude, who is very famous. Heavy hitters, all of them. I am not like them, and do not make music like them, but they are with me, and I have a strong relation to their work.

Further, I should probably narrow this genealogy, and pinpoint it. It might help building a foundation for others that makes the artistic result easier to understand. And if I have to, then, I'd say that the modern Scandinavian jazz is very, very close to me. Karl Seglem, plays a role. Eple Trio plays a role. Norwegian musicians and friends play a role. EST plays a role. Audun Kleive. Pål Thowsen. Andreas Ulvo. Lyrical compositions, that in turn, and to simplify, trace back to Grieg. To "viser" from Sweden, Norway and Denmark. Not traditional folk music, to specify. The vise-thing is closer to me.

Via Johansson, to Russia. To the singers, to the melodies. Going back into it. Further.

#phd

I hate music. I absolutely hate it. I stay away, deliberately, from any kind of musical expression, where I am not a part. Except when I like to be present.

When I see music on the TV, I turn the TV off. Or I go somewhere else. Or I take off my glasses, which in my household, is my universal sign of disapproval of anything televised. It means "I cringe".

Still, I love Tom Waits. Absolutely love the character and the musical output. To me, he summarizes just about every single point of doing music, into one personality that lives on a stage. He's an actor, though, first and foremost, as I see it. Or possibly not. Depends on what qualifying factors you would use in the classification of a person. Thing is, he's definitively "a person", and also "a very expressive person". He is also a storyteller, and a go-fuck-yourself'er, and a "I know what I want more than you do"' 'er

Watch Big Time

#phd

#phd

“What have I done?”

Spirit of Rain was reviewed by groove.de:

Norwegian Jonas Howden Sjøvaag had already had a career spanning well over 20 years as a singer and drummer in countless projects ranging from modern jazz to Nordic folk when he decided to do a doctorate in musicology and thoroughly rethink the artistic and personal forms of expression that had previously been taken for granted. One of the first results of this is Spirit of Rain, a non-binary, digital avatar persona that performs hyperfragile and enigmatic art school pop songs with minimalist, yet complex, non-trivial synthesizer accompaniment. Packed into a retro-modern vaporwave/cyberpunk aesthetic (in addition to his instrumental talent, Sjøvaag is also a graphic designer) and involving an AI in the writing process, the resulting whole, called Spirit of Rain (Shipwreckords, October 25), leaves any categories that went into the work far behind.

I like this review becayse they interpret the album as new, without mentioning new sounds, or new musical form. In other contexts, this is very often the first mention. Look for a new form. Find a new sound.

I don’t think that’s necessary, the impact of new form and new sound is often too disruptive to the music I want to create.

Instead, new can mean known fragments inside an unusual framework.

Example:

50% midi-swing on track 1, against 55% midi-swing on track 2

Complexity by leaving out instead of packing it tightly

E.B. White: explaining a joke is like dissecting a frog—you understand it better, but the frog dies.

Same with researching artistic process.

but beauty gets stale, so Bach requires an all-truth

break that all-truth, and you have a variation, or, increase

in artistic entropy, which seems very nice, for a while, and even nicer

when it expands, like Bach would expand, by all

means..

nothing wrong with Bach

and then changes to that

occur

and we are in fragment

territory

displacement

dissonation

non-sounds

plucks and clicks

memories

descriptions

ideas

before, re-interpretations of Bach

on other instruments, by other people,

starting, or entering, rather, the cycle

of musical .. something

that can only be named

entropy

#phd

What was “Be like water”

Archival listening notes

Archival reading of archival listening notes, with removals

• a simplification of each instrument, narrowing down to the minimum
• a simplification of form to allow a fluid motion through a planned piece
• to keep the element of improvisation, within the boundaries set by preset elements like text, BPM, and specifics from HW used, an element of surprise was introduced (voice on cassette)
• is this really live electronics?
• turns out that in this project it was fruitful to abandon Ableton, switch to Reaper (for stability + simplification of the live electronics part), and to see the DAW as a sound processing unit rather than something that provides musical input
• new questions, other results, elaborating on the self
• accept self-gratification as a creative element
• the narrowing down causes more creativity, not less
• the narrowing down demands new creative outlets

What works?

• The setup (machine) can be re-used for another project, in another musical style, or for prewritten tracks
• The work Be like Water can be repeated without being an exact clone of the previous concert
• I find the soundscape rewarding
• The idea of keeping it portable and relatively simple worked without accepting major lackings in the resulting sound
• It's interesting to see how little I can do while still claiming to "play the instrument," and it is also interesting to see that touching a wooden box with a piezo inside is enough for me to claim to be a drummer, while singing two full lyrics still leaves me in doubt as to whether I'm a singer

Tradeoffs:

• I have played a drum kit for many years and to make this work I have put the urge to play a full kit on hold
• I have to act as a professional in fields where I know that I am really just professional-by-proxy
  • bricolage
  • improvisation
  • Wabi-Sabi

Sonny Rollins: "I have great respect for writing and everything, but I feel improvisation is the pinnacle for everything that jazz represents and for me when I improvise; I try to get deep into myself. In other words, it’s sub-conscious, not conscious, I’m trying to get deep into myself and let the music play, let the music play by itself, not so much I’m thinking about it. That’s my whole effort when I improvise, I learn my songs and I learn my material and when I go on the stage and I’m improvising I forget it. I just let my inner consciousness, this is the beauty of improvisation, this is what improvisation should be, it’s always different, I play the same song, but it’s different."

#phd

sjekk kilde

Practice is unmeasurable like 0 kelvin—the moment you measure it, it changes.

Pressing record interferes with practice.

Never write based on fascination of others' work.

Initial reaction is to block good playing from own expression. Opposition as default state.

my finest moments of creation are almost always between the high and the low. It might be initiated by a late night in the studio, where I sit alone, drink, play and gerenally try to accomplish something, but then when morning comes, regret and a feeling of throwing it all away somehow propels my brain into action, not necessarily on that day in particular, but it lays down the foundations of finished work to come. At some point, this expands into creation, where I can make a lot of stuff in a very short amount of time. And, because I have the technical skills required, I can do the entire process from idea to finished track in half a day. Then, usually when I'm at my presumed high-point, I go into the studio, day three, five, or ten, and nothing happens. Banging my head on the wall is what I do, and I know it. But I don't quit, though. I just overlap, or mask, with other shit. But when the day is over, nothing has happened, and that is when I know: I'm useless, and all I do is shit.

At that point, reasoning takes over. I listen to things I like, to new stuff I don't like, and so on. I have a day off, which is really a day where I spend all my time reflecting on the point of it all, either while practicing the basics (drums, Hanon), or while doing training courses for others, graphic design, web work, skiing, whatever, but at the back of my mind, the wheels are turning, churning, elaborating, reasoning, and sooner rather than later I'm back in my studio, drinking, playing, enjoying, creating yet another day 0 for a period of making something.

ChatGPT anlysis:

This text provides a rich, introspective look into the creative process of an artist, revealing the cyclical nature of inspiration, creation, self-doubt, and rejuvenation. Here's an analysis of its thematic elements:

The Creative Cycle: The narrative illustrates the artist's creative cycle, beginning with a spark of inspiration, often ignited in moments of solitude and introspection ("late night in the studio"). This initial phase is characterized by a mix of productivity and playful exploration ("drink, play and generally try to accomplish something").

Emotional Extremes and Motivation: The artist experiences a wide range of emotions, from the highs of creation to the lows of self-doubt and regret ("regret and a feeling of throwing it all away"). Interestingly, these lows are not depicted as mere obstacles but as catalysts that propel the artist's brain into action, laying the groundwork for future creativity. This suggests that emotional extremes, both positive and negative, are integral to the creative process.

Rapid Creation and Technical Mastery: The text highlights a period of intense productivity where the artist, leveraging their technical skills, can move from idea to finished track in a remarkably short time. This efficiency underscores the importance of technical proficiency in realizing creative visions swiftly.

The Inevitability of Creative Blocks: Despite moments of high productivity, the artist inevitably encounters creative blocks ("nothing happens"). These periods of stagnation are met with frustration but also with persistence. The artist's refusal to quit, even when faced with self-doubt and a sense of worthlessness ("I'm useless, and all I do is shit"), reflects a deep-seated commitment to their craft.

Reflection and Rejuvenation: Following the realization of a creative block, the artist engages in a period of reflection and external engagement, listening to music and involving themselves in other activities ("practicing the basics, graphic design, web work, skiing"). This phase is critical for mental rest and rejuvenation, allowing the artist to step back and gain new perspectives.

Resilience and the Return to Creation: The cycle completes as the artist returns to the studio, reinvigorated and ready to begin the process anew ("enjoying, creating yet another day 0"). This return to creation, despite previous doubts and frustrations, underscores the resilience inherent in the artistic process.

The text articulates a nuanced understanding of the creative journey, acknowledging the interplay between inspiration, productivity, self-doubt, and recovery. It captures the essence of artistic endeavor as a continuous cycle of highs and lows, driven by an unstoppable urge to create. The artist's experience is a testament to the complexity of the creative process, where periods of doubt and reflection are as crucial as moments of inspired productivity. Through this cycle, the artist navigates the challenges of creation, ultimately finding renewal and purpose in the act of making art

#phd

ADDON:

This seems to imply that creating is based on random occurences, sort of, or random impulses fueled by fusing external and internal reflection. And if it might be said to be so, then the creation process might seem to be a simple thing. Just be inspired by something, go through a process, and then create. The difference, however, is that this only seems simple in an analytical sense, because in that context the end goal is already know. In reality, however, the goal of a creative process, outside of providing a financial support for future projects and similar realist ideas, is not known before an artist starts. So, the creative process is very much about heading out into complete darkness, using every possible resource to navigate a very unfamiliar terrain.

right, so

this track, the lyrics

of it I have written, myself, inspired, loosely

by everything I know and everything I've come to know

things that have happened

people I've met

but the voice that speaks these words, now,

is not my voice, it is not

my voice, I guess you would generally classify a voice

as belonging to

someone, so, this is another voice

a creation based on an older version of my voice

recorded years ago, talking back to me through

amateur recordings, through rough mixes, and

drafts

and that voice is what this voice is modelled on

although the words are mine, and

they are, in turn,

written to try to say something about the lyric

in the song following this artificial monologue,

and in that song the voice IS mine, though heavily processed, to the point

where it no longer sounds like me

voices in songs are often impersonal

perfected and sculpted, perhaps

artists feel they can

because the personality already is so heavily

invested in the lyrics themselves, and maybe, I suppose,

it might be tiresome performing them

night after night

for the performer, because of the personal elements embedded,

thus it seems only natural to seek out a

mask, a new kind of layer, that hides

personality but allows you to sing personal lyrics

it allows the Self to

be put front and center night after night

and it removes the need

for imagination, or interpretation in the audience, it’s seemingly just raw

material, bare personality, open for critique and

blunt responses, when it’s not, because the

voice is no longer yours or theirs

it belongs to a plugin, to an idea

so, you hide, behind the VST

autotuning and formant-shifting your

way out of too personal

and into artistry

another option is to

have texts without personal opinion, which in turn, again,

is about masking the personality

hiding it, as such, which means that

using a voice that is not one's own

might be done both by altering the voice

or altering the words

and both of those happen

all the time, in the world

and if you can’t tell the difference

you are probably better off than

the artist, at least in

the short-term

**

cut-up / Markov / https://www.languageisavirus.com/text-mixer.php

the

words

and that is not,

because the

words

and

sculpted, loosely

by everything and

drafts

and

for the words,

now,

is another option based on an older

voice is not my

voice

is another option, or imagination

in the lyric

in the point

where

it

seems

only

natural to

have texts

withough the words

and both

by

already is what have

texts withough

amaterial, bare

often to a plugin, to know and the words

and center night

belonging back to

seems only natural to

a

plugin, to know and the words,

now,

is

about of too

personal opinion,

when

it’s seems only

natural to know and inter off though

amateur re

*

and center

option,

or imagination, or imagination, or imagination in turn,

written

to

the words,

now,

is are mine, and

drafts

and the VST

autotuning

back to say

someone,

so,

themselves,

which in the words

are

perhaps

artificial

monologue,

it

be

time, in

turn,

written to say someone, and center night

be time,

it

I

have written

to a plugin,

written, myself,

inspired, loosely

by everything this to know and everything to

a plugin, to know and that

using I know

and for the

words

and

for the audience

you to

have

texts withough heavily probably better night belonging this

track, this voice

through

amateur recorded years ago, that have texts withough

amatering to

say some personality already is

not,

because through

amateur recorded years ago, themselves, and for the

lyric

in they can

because the

audience,

in turn,

is not

one's own

might

after

option,

or

imagination, when impersonal elements

embedded,

thus

it seems

only natural

to seems only natural

to know and

both by altering about of my

voice the

perhaps

artists feel the perhaps

artificial

monologue,

is not

one's own

might belonger

sounds

like met

but

a

masking the words are mine, and the

voice is so heavily probably

bett

*

optionly nal

el they

hidion of laye personal withong throught,

soice

and

ce

as

a

voind thort-thing respoice ther ves

thing IS mind scust

rans

ther opoint

this that the

what the ly to sponserpret

for

it

se artist, ally can’t the

turn,

opinice isupposhiftinspire

prongingh

heal lyrally need

and irs

ithougheavily juses, words

they

into of

though

allow kindone

behinds liking bably eleme thathe

Seur

re

thrords

are ofy a voice

it nof layou

cand ces, an

all

some throf it the to thersonat spence,

afteral toves t

tellike

me

voin

thecausenter so, tten t seemy vois nothem

nt

wher

sourn,

draft

of to artique

tracking thing that

mighthe tily prtist, because oves

theirst, at alloff th rougs are the whichaps

blunto

sour

wand

evoice maskinto

ally culpter nig

pers

belo long

perse happen

al

perhaps

the S mine

Self thos

likeaks

tique follong the

aud,

to at ler yough througheavil

and, looosely just

allout

mand martifing

abare

perforittengs to the

you h of t raw

usingh

heack, ther voice

in throught

be is mormanthat s

and to side, bout m

ings rougheavilonger youre

it

personalithem

ngs,

t, becritique

ant-shifferell then it telly jusonal I've when be

tion is embes,

anal

opoint

you

ality mayben to

**

cut-up / controlled / https://chardin.neocities.org/cut_up

The personality hiding it as such

Which means to a plugin to

An idea so you i guess

You would generally classify a voice

To be put front and

Center night after voice a

Creation based on an older

Version can because the personality

Already is so heavily impersonal perfected and

Sculpted perhaps artists feel they not my

Voice it is not my voice sounds

Like me voices in songs are often

Is no longer yours or

Theirs it belongs own might

Be done both by altering

The or interpretation in the

Audience it’s seemingly just to seek

Out a mask a new kind

The song following this artificial monologue

And in invested in the lyrics

Themselves and maybe i mine

And they are in turn

Written to personal elements embedded

Thus it seems only natural

Way out of too personal and

Into artistry raw material bare personality

Open for critique and suppose it

Might be tiresome performing them night

That song the voice is mine

Though heavily of my voice recorded

Years ago talking back voice is

Modelled on although the words are

Ihave written myself inspired

Loosely by everything right so

This track the lyrics of

It voice or altering the

Words and both of blunt

Responses when it’s not because

The voice processed to the

Point where it no longer

Opinion which in turn again is about masking

Are probably better off than the artist at

Hide behind the vst autotuning and formant-shifting your

To sing personal lyrics it allows the self

To me through amateur recordings

Through rough mixes try to

Say something about the lyric

In night and it removes

The need for imagination another option is to

Have texts without personal least in the short-term

The voice that speaks these words now is

That using a voice that is not one's

Things that have happened people i've

Met but and drafts and that

Voice is what this of layer

That hides personality but allows you

As belonging to someone so this is another

After night for the performer because of the

And if you can’t tell the difference you

Iknow and everything i've come to know

Those happen all the time

**

cutup / chatGPT4

this track, the lyrics

recorded years ago, talking back to me through

personality but allows you to sing personal lyrics

a creation based on an older version of my voice

using a voice that is not one's own

all the time, in the world

and it removes the need

and if you can’t tell the difference

is not my voice, it is not

it allows the Self to

and in that song the voice IS mine, though heavily processed, to the point

night after night

the artist, at least in

and that voice is what this voice is modelled on

hiding it, as such, which means that

of it I have written, myself, inspired, loosely

because the personality already is so heavily

written to try to say something about the lyric

right, so

or altering the words

autotuning and formant-shifting your

for imagination, or interpretation in the audience, it’s seemingly just raw

and both of those happen

and into artistry

where it no longer sounds like me

voices in songs are often impersonal

might be done both by altering the voice

thus it seems only natural to seek out a

so, you hide, behind the VST

my voice, I guess you would generally classify a voice

although the words are mine, and

invested in the lyrics themselves, and maybe, I suppose,

things that have happened

artists feel they can

as belonging to

in the song following this artificial monologue,

people I've met

mask, a new kind of layer, that hides

perfected and sculpted, perhaps

someone, so, this is another voice

you are probably better off than

have texts without personal opinion, which in turn, again,

be put front and center night after night

it belongs to a plugin, to an idea

but the voice that speaks these words, now,

way out of too personal

they are, in turn,

voice is no longer yours or theirs

for the performer, because of the personal elements embedded,

the short-term

is about masking the personality

blunt responses, when it’s not, because the

it might be tiresome performing them

drafts

material, bare personality, open for critique and

by everything I know and everything I've come to know

amateur recordings, through rough mixes, and

another option is to

**

ChatGPT analysis:

This text delves into the complex relationship between an artist, their voice, and their lyrical creations, examining themes of identity, authenticity, and the transformation of the self through art. Here's a breakdown of its poetic meaning:

Personal Journey and Inspiration: The opening lines establish the song's lyrics as a product of the artist's cumulative experiences—everything they know and have come to know. This suggests that the creative process is deeply personal, drawing from a reservoir of lived experiences, encounters, and reflections.

Voice and Identity: The distinction made between the artist's current voice and a voice from the past points to a nuanced exploration of identity. The "voice" here operates on multiple levels: as the literal sound produced by the artist, as the embodiment of their past self, and as the expression of their evolving identity. The use of an older voice recording signifies an attempt to converse with one's past self, suggesting that our identities are in constant dialogue with who we were.

Artistic Process and Transformation: The text articulates the process of transforming one's voice, both literally and metaphorically, to create art. By modeling the current voice on an older version and processing it to the point where it feels both familiar and alien, the artist reflects on the transformative nature of artistic creation. This process highlights how art can alter the artist, changing not just how they sound but how they perceive themselves.

The Lyric as a Mask: The idea of lyrics serving as a mask or layer to hide behind suggests a protective mechanism for the artist. The text explores the tension between the desire to express personal truths and the need to shield oneself from the vulnerability that such exposure entails. This duality points to the complex dynamics of performance and persona in the artist's life.

Audience and Interpretation: The mention of performing night after night and the artist's relationship with the audience brings forth the notion of reception and interpretation. The struggle between presenting a "bare personality" and using art to mask one's true self raises questions about authenticity and the role of the audience in shaping an artist's identity. The text suggests that the choice of voice—whether altered or authentic—can influence how the audience perceives and interacts with the art.

Artistic Autonomy and Alteration: Finally, the text touches on the concept of artistic autonomy through the act of altering one's voice or words. This alteration is a deliberate choice, reflecting on the endless possibilities and variations in the artistic expression. It underlines the idea that art is not static but a fluid and evolving conversation between the artist, their past selves, and their audience.

In summary, the poetic meaning of the text is a profound reflection on the fluidity of identity, the transformative power of art, and the complex interplay between creator, creation, and audience. It invites readers to contemplate the ways in which artists navigate their personal narratives, alter their voices, and engage with their audience in the ever-evolving landscape of artistic expression

#phd

#Tekst

Sonny Rollins on improvisation:

Subconscious, not conscious. Let music play by itself. Always different.

The options are often too many, it’s difficult to process everything, all at once. The conflict of Musician vs Producer evident in the Spirit of Rain led me to trying to recreate something similar, but in a way that made it possible to perform live, to interact and shape, to play for 40 minutes, or 60 minutes, or 20 minutes. Adapting. Improvising.

I made some choices, set up some rules. If it fit on the IKEA kitchen island “Bror”, it could be a part. If not, it had to go. Something would replace something else. Like written lyrics in a song (usually) replaces the immediacy of improvisation.

Many fragments were picked up, looked at, placed, and evaluated. Some stayed, some were thrown away. Pre-recorded voice on a cassette, using elevenlabs for voice synthesis, a cloning of my own. Familiar, and unfamiliar.

It certainly isn’t pleasant, deconstructing my own practice like this.

At times it felt like time not well spent at all, like anything could become something, and yet it became nothing at all, just stuff produced and left behind.

I wasn’t even sure, and in many ways I’m still not, that I will be able to puzzle the pieces back together into something that feels rewarding, because on the other end of it all, there is the harsh reality of function, reception, reward and usage.

Finest moments between high and low.

Late night studio → regret → foundations → creation burst → nothing happens → reasoning → back to day 0

Create a mono-dialogue about the path toward the goal, how the work proceeds, where the ideas come from (start: tight deadline, GRS, goal: showing, content: someone should understand what's happening), take the starting point from the text on google docs as an outline.

#phd

Mission Impossible - searching for The Entity (undefined evil or endpoint)

Master & Margarita - God leaves (undefined evil appears)

I believe in believing in something, and recognizing effort. Storytelling is what humans do. If you call the greater evil AI, the Devil or God, it doesn't matter. What is missing, or what we fear, is usually the lack of meaning. And meaning disappears when we stop caring. That is always the main feeling underlying the notion of doom. That nothing matters, and that noone cares.

The solution is very simple: care.

#phd

Nüshu - Chinese secret script, phonetic, peaked toward the end of the Qing dynasty. In the film Hidden Letters, the point is that the form is exploited for marketing, but a funny point is a woman reading old texts – she doesn't understand them because the language has changed.

Reference to how meaning changes over time, even in closed systems.

#phd

#reference

Humans have evolved

Expanded and grown, into

Territories that used to be

Unknown, into

The hills and over

Into the wild woods starting fires

Killing what got in the way

Using machinery, steel and friction

Leaving no stone unturned

Nothing left, even to rot

Make it work, turning it into

Something of value

Something that can be sold

Comfort

Escape

Nature

Sell them, then destroy them

One thing leads to another

Soon

There are no beetles

No ants

No buzz

No birds

In the trees

Nothing to hunt

Or see

No fish in the sea

Sounds go

Then the life goes

Then the first

And the last proud capitalist

Stands up and invites you

To that final destination

Where nature can be seen

But to get there you build a

Highway right through the heart of it

Killing off that final piece

Of green

#phd #Tekst

Abandonding bror-rules, continuing to remove, to clarify, to focus. I’m listening and “allowing myself to connect the dots”. Unknown to me when it happened, my own effort in this, both in real time and to recorded pieces, is a form of archival listening that, although always present, has not been a noticeable part of my musical practice.

Now that it is, it’s a method that I can apply to my practice. It allows me to remove known parts, trusting that the holes I dig out can be filled by the same, although unconscious, approach from a listener perspective too.

This is what has emerged from my work up until this point. A practice that informs itself, by creating, relating back, and knowing that something is there. I’m connecting the dots, and I’m knowing it. It also means I have identified my backdrop, and that I know how to place new items so that it either melts into the bacground, or stands out as highly visible creations.

It's a machine, a theoretical one, and it has been present from the beginning, but it stands out more clearly now.

Be like water was presented both as a concert with a select audience in my studio, and at the Artistic research forum, Oslo, spring ‘24. Still very much a work in progress, less finished than Spirit of Rain, I didn’t like it very much then, and I don’t like it much now.

There’s an inherent conflict, still. Even with the rules in place, when I listen as a musician, the sound of it all is too cluttered, there is little sensibility to it, no room to think. There’s too much information, the facets are fighting for space, electronics against acoustics, vocalist against drummer.

I want music to actively inspire listening, and I think that can only be done if you allow for it from the beginning.

It means: don’t say everything, don’t play every note. Make the listener connect the dots, guide them towards a room, rather than pointing to a specific spot.

I need more confidence to allow for this to happen.

Halfway through, Erlend Skomsvold released a trio album, and it hit me like a rock, or a snowball, as I had briefly met him out skiing just weeks before.

What an album. Summarizing all that is great in music. Melody, originality, sound, presence, interplay, communication ... Etc. Just completely superb, throughout.

How do you make something like that? What is the transaction like between the listener and the performers?

Meny things to consider, but anyway you look upon it, for me, that record was one that changed something, that gave me strength to believe beautiful makes sense, and that there are still things to be carved from a basis of melody and harmonies.

#phd

If you know what you want to achieve, all you have to do is to put the pieces together. That might not not the actual creative process, because creativity is, in more general terms, about problem solving, which in music means figuring out how to go from here to there, or how to respond to a particular input. In jazz, this seems to happen on the spot, but it really is something most musicians have spent a huge amount of time on, and what they present is usually a voice of their own, kr in another words, a general understanding of, and solution to, the "problem" at hand. This solution can be refined changed and be completely renewed through the course.of a career, but when you go on stage, what is presented is a remake of the current state of the solution, more than a stroke of genius that magically appears. This is a way to connect artistic practice to the research field, because without a process of finding out and researching, there will not be profound presentations for an audience to enjoy and relate to.

Another thing is boundaries. I mention the Bror kitchen island as a boundary in that "instruments must fit on the table top or be excluded", which might sound like a naive and silly idea. However, the results that comes from this particular way of setting a boundary are not naive or silly at all, in fact quite the opposite. This relates to the identification of identity as well, because the identy is also a boundary, very often set by the artist themselves, and, I assume, very often not set after proper thought or consideration, but rather more like a naive and silly idea that in turn might end up shaping everything you allow yourself to do later on.

Boundaries are everywhere, and they play an important part in creation, in all musical and artistic outlets. They can take all shapes and forms, and they can be talked up or down. It can be an idea shaped by the notion of human interaction (Hellstenius, 2024) or the earliest memories in the performer (Smørdal), it can be motion of flocks of birds, it can be anger and resentment, or anything else and in between. The boundary itself, as the defining element can almost always be seen as a simple and silly whim, while the results are not simple or silly at all, and based on this I feel that what the boundary itself is matters less than that the boundary is present, which in turn means that there is no limit to the silliness or naivistic approach when creating the boundary. When in doubt or stuck, identify a boundary and work within it. It will act as a funnel where ideas come alive and escape the whimsical nature of the human mind.

#phd

When making music, you can choose between counterpoints, and that is more or less what it's all about

you either

try to please or try to stand out

tie music to a specific meaning, or creating music "for itself"

explore a particular idea, or let the flow of yourself be the main topic

and many such things

When dealing with lyrics in a song, you enter into storytelling, immediately. Anyone that hears the words will try to make sense of them. That means that these counterpoints are present there also, for instance:

you tell a personal story, or you make it up completely

you try to say something that makes sense, or you make a point of gibberish

etc.

It's more or less all about choosing one or the other, and which one you choose is very often decided on where you are in life. Are you in a position to explore? Are you in a position that demands safety? Are you angry? Are you disillusioned? Are you very happy?

All of these factors come into play, and it is my belief that the music and words that you make has to be informed by these factors. Therefore, when creating music from different identities, in my case that means using all the knowledge I have from before, to create something that appears new "at this point in time". It will not necessarily appear new to a listener, because I do not have a complete oversight over what knowledge a listener has. But I know that it is new to me, and that is the first piece of knowledge that needs to be established, obvious as it might be.

The second builds on the first: when I say new "at this point in time", I am including all the external causes that will have to be considered as parts of the backdrop for creating a particular piece of music. This entanglement of instances might be summed up in one sentence: When creating music, you elaborate on yourself as a topic.

Very simple, really. You elaborate, musically, right now, on everything that lies behind, and all expectancies that lie ahead. And the elaboration might sound like A on 2023, and it might sound like 7 in 2031. Who knows. There is a connection, obviously, but as I see it, the connection is The Self as a topic, and not necessarily a particular sound, genre or method.

Of course, history might seem to prove me wrong. After all, the great musicians all more or less elaborated within the same framework, throughout their entire career.

To be continued

#phd

1: And then you were here // in this room

outside the window the world was // in full bloom

in this room you made your sound // and the world

the world // heard

2: in the end you'll leave this // room, and

you will not know if the world outside // will ever bloom

in this room where life has left // the world

and sounds // of birds

ref.: going out // coming home

write it down // before it's gone

tell your story // sing your tune

maybe someone // hears it soon

3: Whatever marks this life // has made, in the

end, when softly on the green fields // you are laid

staring into // the summer sky

all your marks // will fade

In Blues for N0 and Gons Neris, my main focus was to further explore the cut-up technique, inspired particularly by William S. Burroughs, this time through speech to text and text to speech, allowing a machine to do it instead of me. In Itzama, I did this by pretending to converse with Burroughs through the lyrics, here the bot converses with itself.

The result is the same, still: breaking linearity by slicing text into pieces and rearranging them. This was not just about dismantling language, but about discovering new layers of meaning through unpredictability, in line with my initial ideas from startup.

In my work, fragments of words and phrases were deliberately separated, moved around, and recombined until something else emerged. I approached this practice somewhat methodically, cycling through stages: initially compiling texts, cutting them up, and then assembling these fragments into new constellations. Each iteration revealed hidden resonances I wouldn't have found if I'd simply written straight through.

In hindsight, I see that I do this all the time. With images, sound and text. Trying to find new inside known.

With Gons Neris, I went further into abstraction. Rather than overt textual splicing, the focus shifted towards subtle shifts in tone and internal rhythm, existing by itself, a machine playing, producing sound by hitting metal rods, controlled by human presence.

The accompanying poster presentation (Blues for n0, SAR Forum, Tilburg 2024 + ARAK 2024) and exhibit (gnoS neriS, Dutch Design Week 2024) allowed for explanation in detail. Especially meaningful was being present at DDW for a week, talking to visitors, watching the machine in action in a room.

Both works strenthened my belief that the real potential of artistic research lies in embracing unpredictability and fragmentation. Rather than forcing order prematurely, allowing disorder to guide the process opens possibilities, both risky and compelling. This balance between method and chance is central to my understanding of what defines artistic exploration.

Strange things happen, when you're looking down the barrel of a gun

you start to consider what you do for work and what you do for fun

you might start to question, even, what might be true or what is spun

all these things happen, as you're looking down the barrel of a gun

And that barrel of a gun might not be anything more than a paycheck coming late

all of a sudden you're stuck in a position where you're the topic of a television debate

Still, everything considered, you're better off than most

so your complaints feel sorta hollow, no matter how high the cost

the barrel of a gun is a tunnel, so there should be a light at the end

but in this particular fucking barrel, something must be warped so that the light is bent

no matter how hard you look there really is no light in sight

just a black hole in dead center

just a black hole in dead center

just a black hole in dead center

just a black hole in dead center

#phd

Behind every artistic output lies an idea and a want to present it.

Arts always operating as concept. AR makes sense as it demands more visible documentation.

I started using generative tools because I wanted to disrupt my normal routines and see if I could generate ideas I wouldn’t arrive at on my own. In the beginning, there was Inferkit and its outputs veered in strange, sometimes incoherent directions—what I ended up calling “weirdness.” That unpredictable quality forced me to reconsider how I shape my own work. By weaving in lines or phrases from Inferkit, I gained new perspectives I wouldn’t have imagined through my usual methods.

Then, I moved to ChatGPT and it gave me coherent text that felt neat and grammatically correct but lacked the unexpected angles I was looking for. I can see value in its clarity, yet it couldn’t replace the sense of discovery I got from more chaotic results. In both cases, I tried to limit the input to my own texts, hoping to keep track of where these AI-generated fragments actually came from. Still, I wasn’t completely sure whether I might be inadvertently incorporating snippets of someone else’s material. That’s an ethical problem, obviously. When are words original?

The question about originality and authorship led me to think about the ethics of using AI in my practice. Even if I feed it only my own words, there’s always a risk that the model’s training data seeps in, giving me something I didn’t intend or even recognize.

I have concluded, for now, that AI can be a helpful tool, but it cannot replace the active choices I make as an artist.