On September 11, 2001, composer William Basinski went to the roof of his Brooklyn home, turned on the camera, put his recently finished composition on "repeat" and watched a black cloud of smoke billowing in the distance for hours on end. The tape of "Disintegration Loops" and its accompanying video was included in the collection of the National Memorial and Museum to commemorate the victims of the terrorist attack.
The name "Disintegration Loops" itself explains the used technique of tape loops in the composition, which Basinski decided to digitize and create his own archival recordings. However, in the process he discovered that the film was literally disintegrating: particles of the magnetic layer fell off right during the playback. “I saw the music die,” Basinski said at the time.
Basinki's music is very experimental. The dynamics of Basinski's music is extremely unhurried, it often even seems as if all the action has been taken out of it - almost the ideal of an ambient, absolute static. Actually, it is an illusion. It is akin to the movement of clouds: from the ground it seems that they are monolithic, motionless, extremely static. Some listeners on the internet write that in order to discern William's music, one must, to some extent, go beyond and hover above the loops, which, I must admit, are arranged in a primitive way. I read that the loops turn out to be changing pace, intersect and overlap with each other in a constant and gradual process. However, I could not hear any development of sound in practice. Personally, I found the piece a little boring, the loop was too short and my brain was quite exhausted because of constant repetition. I guess loops are not meant for everyone to be enjoyable.
Basinki's music is very experimental. The dynamics of Basinski's music is extremely unhurried, it often even seems as if all the action has been taken out of it - almost the ideal of an ambient, absolute static. Actually, it is an illusion. It is akin to the movement of clouds: from the ground it seems that they are monolithic, motionless, extremely static. Some listeners on the internet write that in order to discern William's music, one must, to some extent, go beyond and hover above the loops, which, I must admit, are arranged in a primitive way. I read that the loops turn out to be changing pace, intersect and overlap with each other in a constant and gradual process. However, I could not hear any development of sound in practice. Personally, I found the piece a little boring, the loop was too short and my brain was quite exhausted because of constant repetition. I guess loops are not meant for everyone to be enjoyable.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.