A broadcast for the ever-vibrant Radia network that begins with How Still (2024), a disintegrative composition for voice and cosmic crackle inspired by the structure and rhythm of a Langston Hughes poem, featuring a home-made DIY ventilator that fails to sustain the patient.
Then follows May It Come (2024), the title descending from a well-known passage in the Tibetan Book of the Dead, May it come that the sounds of the Bardo shall be known as one’s own sounds.
A freely associative consideration of the Beefheart Affliction; the dangerous game of creating schizophonic monsters; the compost heap of radio’s intrinsic entropy and instability; the creative possibilities released through the fractures of a broken subjectivity; a synthetic voice ripened, to the point of bursting; a piece of flesh that we shall call Figgy Pudding; a bit of brain beneath a fingernail; a scratched radio thanatophony; and a pair of eyes reflecting a Hegelian Night that becomes —- awful.
Both pieces incubated in the fertile regions of the Electroacoustical Poetical Society and its esteemed fellow castaways; thanks to MVH for her bouyance amidst the maelstrom.
(photo credit: Patrick Harkin)
Gregory Whitehead 