We are what we hear and what we see. . .

We are what we hear and what we see and what we feel and touch as much as what we think. If there´s a perceptual level of information happening at the level of your fingertips, happening with your hips, happening with your groin, happening with your arse, happening with your feet, happening with your elbows, the next step is to listen to what these aspects of the body are saying and to realise that these different sensory levels have been really misunderstood. The DJ goes into a journey of the hands. The whole scratch is like this manual perception. I figure in the future that the DJs will have extremely developed fingertips, because they”re super-sensitive, like lily pads, like frogs. Their heads will be fused to their necks, and I think in about twenty years time their legs may well have withered away, “cause they never dance. That´s how I think of the body, and that´s how I think of rhythm. I think of rhythm as a kind of an abstract machine, which appeals to the entire distributed body, because rhythm is parallel music.

Kodwo Eshun

movement become pattern

Music is the supreme example of movement become pattern. Music is time given sublime shape. If for no other reason than its universality and its status in the collective mind, music invites imitation. A visual art should give the same superior shape to the temporal order that we expect of music.
John Whitney

tiempo imponderable

A NEW TIME - - A NEW TIME - - - A NEW TIME

anybody who has ever become really involved in listening to a piece of music, or looking at a painting, or reading a book, will have noticed that our subjective time is not feeling the same as the chronometrical time our watch shows… time can run much slower or much faster, along with the musical flow of events, a painting may stop our feeling for the passing of time altogether, and looking up from a book, we notice that much more time has passed than we thought.

in my work as a composer, i have often found that listeners took a shorter piece to last longer than an actually longer one, and that their estimates of the duration of a work were often quite far from the actual chronometrical one.

these observations, together with the interest i have taken in neurological research into our perception of time, have led me to devise a new time unit for measuring the duration of my musical works. said research has found that our perception of “present”, “now”, “the present moment” is a time window of about three seconds, everything else is memory or anticipation.

so my new time unit is three seconds long, and i call it dim, which stands for the french expression “durée; içi, maintenant” (”duration; here, now”). from now on, i will give the duration of my works expressed in numbers of this unit . . . . like this, you know how many “moments” of your attention/consciousness each of my works is asking for… before you can ask: a 24 hours’ day is 28.800 dim :-)

…the strong tendency of dim values to end with a period shows how imponderable time really is…

bernhard günter, april 1999

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