Author: Jerome Sharpe

Item #: 07382A

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures:

07382A is to be housed in a reinforced containment chamber equipped with redundant electromagnetic field generators and sound-suppression technology. Access to 07382A is restricted to Level 4 personnel and above. Any experimentation involving 07382A requires prior approval from the Site Director.

Description:

07382A, known as HEKEDE, manifested as a clandestine emissary from the obscure recesses of antiquity. Unearthed in an undisclosed antique repository within [REDACTED], HEKEDE resides within a transparent cocoon—a palm-sized, stygian disk adorned with an illegible etching. Upon breaching the transparent containment apparatus, HEKEDE emanates a spectral hum and subtle luminescence from its engraved symbol. This unassuming disk exhibits the capability to facilitate dimensional translocation, providing [REDACTED] with access to a realm free from physical constraints. In this anomalous plane, temporal constructs disintegrate, rendering time an amorphous abstraction. HEKEDE, once banal, undergoes metamorphosis into an instrument of reality manipulation—a beacon for entities not of this realm.

The revelation of HEKEDE’s attributes attracts the attention of erudite academics and occult enthusiasts alike. [REDACTED], recognising the artifact’s esoteric potency, reluctantly assumes the role of custodian for this Class 0 anomaly. Simultaneously, an enigmatic consortium emerges with the overt objective of appropriating the artifact for inscrutable motivations. Burdened by the ethical conundrum inherent in wielding HEKEDE’s formidable capabilities, [REDACTED] faces a crucial decision—maintain vigilant custodianship or expose the artifact’s latent potential to the wider expanse.

Symbolising a nexus of both fascination and trepidation, HEKEDE persists as a repository of arcane profundities guarded by [REDACTED] and the custodians of the occulted realms. Nestled in the heart of [REDACTED], HEKEDE endures as a silent sentinel. Its occult etching serves as an inconspicuous overseer within the emporium, covertly harbouring the ineffable secrets of eons within its palm-sized confines, poised for the eventuality of a discerning interlocutor unraveling its cryptic enigmas.

Addendum 07382A-1:

The attached file comprises fragmented audio pieces salvaged and stitched together from the disk, audible only when played through a 1992 Nakamichi CD4. The endurance of its psychic properties in this format is unknown. Since [REDACTED], the location of both HEKEDE and its proprietor [REDACTED] remains unknown.

experience

Cameron, Jack and I were drawn to each other as soon as group work was mentioned in class, and working with them has been a great experience. We compliment each others sound well and bring a fresh take to all of our ideas which is created a great environment for experimentation. Almost straight away, we came up with themes of horror, found objects and having a story of where whatever we were about to make would come from, ideas were bountiful.

After allowing time to rest over the break, and for Cameron to come back to the uk, we got into any space we could in the uni and started recording. After a few days we had enough material to start arranging the work. We had lots of fun in these sessions and I think that comes through strongly in the work.

decision making

Making decisions within the group was an easy process. We all contributed to decisions and always seemed to be on the same page of where we wanted the project to go. Most sounds were created together in our sessions at uni (other than some voice messages sourced by Jack) and posted to our group discord after each session ended. This made the management of files effortless and we were all up to date if we could not make a session.

arrangement

We each brought a different skillset to the group which made arranging our pieces quite a natural process. Camerons history with Ableton allowed him to add the rest of the groups ideas into one file and create additional effects. Jacks more analogue feel shone through in our sessions together, his process fit well within the themes of the project. My mixed experience helped to connect hardware synthesisers with digital manipulation and effects to create the layered drones that the other pieces were based off of.

If we had more time, we would’ve liked to add to the sections in between our pieces to create more of a natural flow to the project as a whole. We also had discussions about dubbing the project onto tape or CD, which I think would complete the project. We have all expressed that we would like to work with each other in the future, even outside of university projects. It would definitely be intriguing to make something way out of all of our comfort zones together as a challenge.

soundcloud link

My original idea consisted of breaking down English language through phoneme reconstruction. The plan was to talk/sing each vowel then layer them to make up some form of harmony. The vowels would be stretched to make the length of the recording. Mono recordings of consonants would periodically appear throughout the piece in clusters and slowly fade with granular effects and modulating delays. However, once I realised that I wouldn’t be able to fulfil both ideas fully, I decided to experiment with the piece that became the final composition as much as possible.

I created a patch on a Korg Volca Modular during a lecture, then recorded a few different loops varying in timbre. After chopping up, time warping and pitch shifting the recording, I arranged the first section of the piece. Reverb, delay and other effects are added to create a sense of dreaminess and help the listener let their guard down. This is layered with a slowed field recording of the Hare Krishna mantra I captured in June of this year. This recording is significant because local hindus in my home town would sing in the city centre. I can recall a number of good memories that would’ve had this as the soundtrack. As it is a mantra it also adds to the lull of the first section.

Wanting to explore a new concept, I made a recording of my dishwasher to investigate reduced listening. Its scrape and hum intrigued me. It adds some sort of grim ambience to the track, which I find fits very well. The recording makes up the backdrop of the piece. Unbothered and unrelenting, it trudges along through the piece in its entirety.

The lyrics in this piece are taken from a reflective letter, written to myself prior to moving to London. There are three vocal tracks. One was recorded through a series of delay and distortion pedals to create a thick texture. I duplicated this track and slowed it down, so that the words would blend and melt together. The two tracks are then panned to the left and right, enveloping the listener, along side a loop from the Volca Modular that is slowed down and bitcrushed to create the wall of noise. However, the piece felt like something was missing, so I recorded myself whispering the passage, which I think helps complete the piece.

The piece is an attempt to translate my current psyche into audio, some kind of self portrait. It details the depths of confusion that I have come to know. My struggle in finding some sense of self or meaning within my art practice. I tend to struggle to mix all the elements in my work cohesively and I think that is the main weakness of this piece too. Although I looked into reduced listening while making this piece, I think that exploring this topic further will shine light on thoughts and ideas that can influence my practice even more.

Sound arts has quickly become a topic that I cannot stop thinking about. I have tried multiple times to narrow down a definition, but it seems almost impossible. However, I don’t think that it needs one. Sound arts, to me, is something that should be felt and doesn’t really need to be pinned down.

Coming from a history in music, I have been guided to categorise sound into ‘good’ and ‘bad’. The categorisation of sound has lead to some dissonance within me, as I have always sought out experimentation and play in my creative practice. I have been striving to unlearn this since joining the sound arts course. What if I want to present ‘bad’ sounds and give them a context to elicit a reaction out of an audience. This thinking has lead me to the politics of sound arts; Who has a voice? Why does one person have a say and not the other? Who are the people we need to be listening to? These are questions I have been chewing on since stepping into my first lecture with Annie. Although the works shown in class have been produced by predominately white men, I can feel the movement away from this ideology, and for other voices to be presented.

The openness to experimentation was one of the first things that caught my eye about sound arts, this contrasts with the way I felt the music production course would be pushing for ‘industry standard’. Some works are completely generative, site-specific or ‘unfinished’. Umberto Eco details that some works are like tool kits that are to be deciphered at the time of performance (p. 4, 1962). This resonates particularly well with me, as I have a growing interest in installation pieces and an audiences interactivity with such work.

The organisation that I am currently building with a close friend (new*club) is also aiding in my exploration of sound arts. We are researching ways we can present a combination of audio and visual experiments to the public, though fashion and experience. This could be explored in multiple differing forms, one such form could be a Chladni plate created by the user on site, to then be printed on their own clothing.

Recently, I have been unsure of where my work belongs. I do not feel the work I produce is ‘sound art enough’ to be placed in a museum but what I create is also ‘not musical enough’ to garner a crowd in a bar or club. This is causing a feeling of isolation within myself and work. However, with each budding artist that I speak to, I begin to realise how unimportant labels such as; sound artist, music producer etc. are, and am learning to let my work speak for itself. As Roland Barthes wrote ‘It is language which speaks, not the author’ (p. 143, 1967). I hope that if a future version of myself is reading, you have committed to this. It will save your mind, which you need to keep creating.

References

Eco U. (1962) The Open Work. Cambridge: The Harvard Press.

Barthes R. (1967) Image, Music, Text. London: Fontana.