If yesterday was a day of wading through treacle, then today was the day when I had the breakthrough I was looking for… All thanks to the generous and talented help of my friend and colleague Ms. CiCi Blumstein!!! (Give it up please Ladies and Gentlemen…) I knew what it was that I wanted to do, but didn’t know how to go about creating it, until I could organise all the thoughts in my head; and that meant spewing out all of the hunches and half-ideas that had been floating around without form, so I could begin to make sense of them in the harsh glimmer of daylight.
In the morning I had gone down to the studio early, to catch the morning rush hour and make the binaural recordings of the area around 20 Wellington Road, that would form the core of my residency. You can disappear in public with binaural microphones, because they are hidden, and it just looks like you’re listening to music on headphones. A camera, however, is a visible object, and these days makes people very nervous, if they think you’re photographing them without permission. And so it was, when I went back to the locations that I had recorded earlier to log and documents those locations with a photograph that the owner of the Portslade Hand Car Wash came running after me to demand why I had been taking photographs of his premises and what was my intended usage. After about 5 minutes he had calmed down and realised that I wasn’t from from the Immigration Services or Customs and Excise and that the images themselves were benign and impersonal.
In the afternoon, I went walking with CiCi to clear my head and came back several hours later with a plan to transform my studio space at Blast Theory into an installation. The room would become a SCORE… But not through the clutter and chaos as I had been living it for the past few days (I have to say, it was truly liberating to allow myself to have a “messy” studio space for a few days), but by transforming the NOISE and after clearing the room back to a classic white cube, to insert only those visual elements back into the room, necessary to contextualise the sound pieces, which we would now be experienced on iPods.