Content Types

Artist Profiles (5)

Audio (4)

Audio Papers (39)

Editorial (3)

Essays (29)

Conversations (12)

Scores (11)

Series (10)

Text Poems (8)

Contributors (136)

  • Allanah Stewart
  • Allanah Stewart is an artist from Aotearoa/New Zealand, currently living in Melbourne, Australia. As well as her work in various experimental music projects, she is the presenter of a monthly podcast radio programme called Enquiring Minds, hosted by Noods radio, which explores old and new, lesser known and well known sounds that loosely fit under the banner of experimental music.

  • Jen Callaway
  • Jen Callaway is a Melbourne musician, sound and performance artist, photographer, and community services worker raised in various parts of Tasmania. Current projects include bands Is There a Hotline?, Propolis, Snacks and Hi God People; and upcoming film Here at the End, by Campbell Walker, as actor/co-writer.

  • Isha Ram Das
  • Isha Ram Das is a composer and sound artist primarily concerned with ecologies of environment and culture. He works with experimental sound techniques to produce performances, installations and recordings. He was the 2019 recipient of the Lionel Gell Award for Composition, and has scored feature-length films and nationally-touring theatre installations. He has performed at institutions such as the Sydney Opera House; Black Dot Gallery, Melbourne; Institute of Modern Art, Brisbane; Metro Arts, Brisbane; Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney; and Boxcopy, Brisbane.

  • Dylan Robinson
  • Dylan Robinson is a xwélméxw (Stó:lō) writer, artist, scholar and curator, He is Canada Research Chair in Indigenous Arts, and associate professor at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario. He is author of Hungry Listening, Resonant Theory for Indigenous Sound Studies, published by University of Minnesota Press.

  • Megan Cope
  • Megan Cope is a Quandamooka woman (North Stradbroke Island) in South East Queensland. Her site-specific sculptural installations, video work and paintings investigate issues relating to identity, the environment and mapping practices. Cope’s work often resists prescribed notions of Aboriginality and becomes psychogeographies across various material outcomes that challenge the grand narrative of ‘Australia’ as well as our sense of time and ownership in a settler colonial state.

  • Sean Baxter
  • Australian musician Sean Baxter died on 15 March 2020. Part of Melbourne's improv scene, he is described by musician Anthony Pateras as possessing “a unique aesthetic vision and intellectual depth, mixing highbrow philosophical concepts with punk sensibilities in how he lived, spoke and played. He was pure energy.”

    Drumkit and percussionist, Sean was an Australian improviser who forged an international reputation as a bold explorer of percussive possibilities both as a soloist and through his work with the acclaimed avant-garde trio, Pateras/Baxter/Brown. Focusing on the use of extended techniques applied to the conventional drum kit, he utilised an arsenal of metallic junk and other percussive detritus to expand the sonic palette of the percussion tradition. In addition to Pateras/Baxter/Brown, he was involved in many collaborations and was drummer for groups The Throwaways, Bucketrider, Lazy, SxSxSx and Terminal Hz.

  • Thomas Ragnar
  • Thomas Ragnar is an artist based in Singapore. His work is often underpinned by collaborations, affinities and research with experiential methodologies.

  • Alessandro Bosetti
  • Alessandro Bosetti is an Italian composer, performer and sound artist, currently based in Marseille. His work delves into the musicality of spoken language, utilising misunderstandings, translations and interviews as compositional tools. His works for voice and electronics blur the line between electro-acoustic composition, aural writing and performance.

  • Lin Chi-Wei
  • Lin Chi-Wei is a legend of Taiwanese sonic art, whose practice incorporates folklore culture, noise, ritual, and audience participation.

  • Mat Dryhurst
  • Mat Dryhurst is an artist who releases music and artworks solo and in conjunction with Holly Herndon and the record label PAN. Dryhurst developed the decentralised publishing framework Saga, which enables creators to claim ownership of each space in which their work appears online, and a number of audio plays that derive their narrative from the personal information of listeners. He lectures on issues of music, technology, and ideology at NYU, and advises the blockchain-based platform co-operative Resonate.is.

  • Sean Dockray
  • Sean Dockray is an artist, writer, and programmer living in Melbourne whose work explores the politics of technology, with a particular emphasis on artificial intelligences and the algorithmic web. He is also the founding director of the Los Angeles non-profit Telic Arts Exchange, and initiator of knowledge-sharing platforms, The Public School and Aaaaarg.

  • Emile Frankel
  • Author of Hearing the Cloud (Zero Books), Emile Frankel is a writer and composer researching the changing conditions of online listening. In his spare time he runs the science fiction and critical fantasy publisher Formling.

  • Bridget Chappell
  • Bridget Chappell is a raver and theory bro currently living on the unceded nations of the Latji Latji and Nyeri Nyeri people. They make music as Hextape and organise parties in drains, observatories, and other natural amphitheatres. They founded and run Sound School, work with young musicians behind bars, and make experimental sound technologies to challenge police sirens.

  • Holly Herndon
  • Holly Herndon experiments at the outer reaches of dance music and pop. Born in Tennessee, Herndon spent her formative years in Berlin’s techno scene and repatriated to San Francisco, where she completed her PhD at Stanford’s Center for Computer Research in Music and Acoustics. Her albums include Platform (2015) and Proto (2019).

  • Candice Hopkins
  • Candice Hopkins is a curator, writer and researcher interested in history, art and indigeneity, and their intersections. Originally from Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, Hopkins is a citizen of Carcross/Tagish First Nation. She was senior curator for the 2019 Toronto Biennial of Art, and worked on the curatorial teams for the Canadian Pavilion at the 58th Venice Biennale, and documenta 14.

  • Raven Chacon
  • Raven Chacon is a composer, performer and artist from Fort Defiance, Navajo Nation. His work ranges from chamber music to experimental noise, to large scale installations, produced solo and with the Indigenous art collective Postcommodity. At California Institute of the Arts, Chacon studied with James Tenney, Morton Subotnick, Michael Pisaro and Wadada Leo Smith developing a compositional language steeped in both the modernist avant-garde and Indigenous cosmologies and subjectivities. He has written for ensembles, musicians and non-musicians, and for social and educational situations, and toured the world as a noise artist.

  • Lisa Lerkenfeldt
  • Lisa Lerkenfeldt is a multi-disciplinary artist working in sound, gesture and performance. Central to her practice is languages of improvisation and intimacy with technology. Traces of a personal discipline and form of graphic notation are introduced in the online exhibition 14 Gestures. The associated recorded work Collagen (Shelter Press, 2020) disrupts the role of the common hair comb through gesture and sound.

  • Haroon Mirza
  • Haroon Mirza is an artist who intertwines his practice with the role of composer. Mirza considers electricity his main medium and creates atmospheric environments through the linking together of light, sound, music, videos and elements of architecture. Regularly showing internationally in group and solo exhibitions, Mirza’s work has also been included in the 7th Shenzhen Sculpture Biennale, China (2012) and the 54th Venice Biennale, Italy (2011), where he was awarded the Silver Lion.

  • 33EMYBW
  • Shanghai native 33EMYBW (Wu Shanmin) has been an active member in the Chinese music scene for over a decade. She has also performed at CTM and Sinotronics in Germany, China Drifting Festival in Switzerland, and SXSW. Her 2018 album Golem, released on SVBKVLT, was met with critical acclaim and voted one of the best electronic albums of 2018 by Bandcamp. In 2019 she released DONG2 EP under Merrie Records Beijing, and will premiere her sophomore album Arthropods (SVBKVLT) at Unsound 2019.

  • Alexander Garsden
  • Alexander Garsden is a Melbourne-based composer, guitarist and electroacoustic musician, working across multiple exploratory musical disciplines. Recent work includes commissions from the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, Speak Percussion, Michael Kieran Harvey and Eugene Ughetti; alongside performances with artists including Tetuzi Akiyama (Japan), Oren Ambarchi, Radu Malfatti (Austria), Julia Reidy, David Stackenäs (Sweden), and with Erkki Veltheim and Rohan Drape. From 2014 to 2019 Garsden was Co-Director of the INLAND Concert Series. He has taught through RMIT University and the University of Melbourne.

  • Annika Kristensen
  • Annika Kristensen is Senior Curator at the Australian Centre for Contemporary Art, Melbourne.

  • Arben Dzika
  • Arben Dzika is an artist whose practice involves working with various media including, but not limited to: sound, image, word, and performance. His work primarily seeks to reflect on, interrogate, and play with technologies, systems, and human senses. Within his practice, he works as a producer and DJ under the moniker, Dilae.

  • Audrey Schmidt
  • Audrey Schmidt is a writer and editor based in Melbourne, Australia. She is a regular contributor to Memo Review, co-editor the third issue of Dissect Journal, and has written for various publications including Art Monthly, Art + Australia and un Magazine. She co-founded Minority Report with Adam Hammad in 2018 and released one online issue that was available until the domain expired in 2019. Audrey sits on the FYTA (GR) Board of Advisors.

  • Autumn Royal
  • Autumn Royal is a poet, researcher, and educator based in Narrm/Melbourne. Autumn’s current research examines elegiac expression in contemporary poetry. Autumn is the interviews editor for Cordite Poetry Review, and author of the poetry collections She Woke & Rose (Cordite Books, 2016) and Liquidation (Incendium Radical Library, 2019).

  • Bianca Winataputri
  • Bianca Winataputri is a Melbourne-based independent curator and writer researching contemporary practice in Southeast Asia, and relationships between individuals and collectives in relation to history, globalisation, identity and community building. Currently working at Regional Arts Victoria, Bianca was previously Assistant Curator of Contemporary Art at the NGA. She holds a BA (University of Melbourne), and BA Honours from the ANU where she received the Janet Wilkie Prize for Art. In 2018 Bianca was selected for 4A Centre for Contemporary Asian Art’s Curators’ Intensive.

  • Brian Hioe
  • Brian Hioe was one of the founding editors of New Bloom, an online magazine covering activism and youth politics in Taiwan and the Asia Pacific, founded in 2014 in the wake of the Sunflower Movement. Hioe is a freelance writer on social movements and politics, as well as an occasional translator.

  • Chi Tran
  • Chi Tran is a writer, editor, and an artist who makes poems that may be text, video, object, sound, or drawing. Chi is primarily interested in working with language as a means of coming-to-terms. Their work has been published by Incendium Radical Library Press, Cordite Poetry Review, Australian Poetry and Liminal Magazine and exhibited at galleries including Firstdraft, Sydney; Punk Café, Melbourne; and ACCA, Melbourne. In 2019, as a recipient of The Ian Potter Cultural Trust Fund, Chi spent three months in New York developing their practice with renowned poets including Mei-mei Berssenbrugge, Fred Moten, and Jackie Wang.

  • Chun Yin Rainbow Chan
  • Chun Yin Rainbow Chan is a Hong Kong–Australian artist, living in Sydney. Working across music, performance and installation, Rainbow is interested in the copy and how the ways in which it can disrupt Western notions of ownership. Central to Rainbow's work is the circulation of knock-off objects, sounds and images in global media. Her work positions the counterfeit as a complex sign that shapes new myths, values and contemporary commodity production.

  • Dale Gorfinkel
  • Dale Gorfinkel is a musician-artist whose stylefree improvisational approach informs his performances, instrument-building, and kinetic sound installations. Aiming to reflect an awareness of the dynamic nature of culture and the value of listening as a mode of knowing people and places, Dale is interested in bringing creative communities together and shifting perceived boundaries. Current projects include Prophets, Sounds Like Movement, and Music Yared as well as facilitating Art Day South, an inclusive arts studio with Arts Access Victoria.

  • Danni Zuvela
  • Danni Zuvela is a curator and writer based in Melbourne and the Gold Coast. Her research is informed by interests in feminism, activism, ecology, language and performance. With Joel Stern, Danni has led Liquid Architecture as Artistic Director, and continues to develop curatorial projects for the organisation.

  • Eric Avery
  • Eric Avery is a Ngiyampaa, Yuin, Bandjalang and Gumbangirr artist. As part of his practice Eric plays the violin, dances and composes music. Working with his family’s custodial songs he seeks to revive and continue on an age old legacy – continuing the tradition of singing in his tribe – utilising his talents to combine and create an experience of his peoples culture.

  • Fjorn Butler
  • Fjorn Butler is an artist, researcher, and event organiser. As an artist, she works primarily in sound and performance under the name Papaphilia. As a researcher, she interrogates how biological discourses are used in neoliberal/colonial governance structures to shape the political. Fjorn's research informs her writing on sound-poetics and the challenges this framework poses to anglophone notions of property. She is also co-director of Future Tense and co-curator of Writing and Concepts.

  • Freya Schack-Arnott
  • Freya Schack-Arnott is an Australian/Danish cellist who enjoys a multi-faceted career as a soloist and ensemble performer of classical and contemporary repertoire, curator and improviser within experimental music, electronics, popular and cross-disciplinary art forms. Schack-Arnott regularly performs with Australia's leading new music ensembles, including ELISION Ensemble (as core member) and Ensemble Offspring. Her curatorial roles include co-curator/founder of the regular 'Opus Now' music series and previous curator of the NOW Now festival and Rosenberg Museum.

  • Gooooose
  • Gooooose (Han Han) is an electronic music producer, visual artist and software developer based in Shanghai, China. His current releases include They (D Force, 2017), Dong 1 (D Force, 2018), Pro Rata (ANTE-RASA, 2019). Gooooose's 2019 SVBKVLT–released RUSTED SILICON received positive reviews from media including boomkat, Resident Advisor, Dusted Magazine, and The Wire. Gooooose has performed live at CTM (Berlin, 2018), Nyege Nyege (Kampala, 2019), Soft Centre (Sydney, 2019), Unsound (Kraków, 2019) and Recombinant (San Francisco, 2019).

  • Harmony Holiday
  • Harmony Holiday is a writer, dancer, archivist, director, and the author of four collections of poetry, Negro League Baseball, Go Find Your Father/A Famous Blues, Hollywood Forever, and A Jazz Funeral for Uncle Tom. She lives in New York and Los Angeles.

  • James Rushford
  • James Rushford is an Australian composer-performer who holds a doctorate from the California Institute of the Arts, and was a 2018 fellow at Academy Schloss Solitude in Stuttgart. His work is drawn from a familiarity with specific concrète, improvised, avant-garde and collagist languages. Currently, his work deals with the aesthetic concept of musical shadow. James has been commissioned as a composer by ensembles including the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra (Glasgow), and Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, and regularly performs in Australia and internationally.

  • Jessica Aszodi
  • Jessica Aszodi is an Australian-born, London-based vocalist who has premiered many new pieces, performed work that has lain dormant for centuries, and sung roles ranging from standard operatic repertoire to artistic collaborations. She has been a soloist with ensembles including ICE; the Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide Symphony Orchestras; and San Diego and Chicago Symphony Orchestras’ chamber series. Aszodi can be heard on numerous recordings and has sung in festivals around the world. She holds a Doctorate of Musical Arts from the Queensland Conservatorium, an MFA from the University of California, and is co-director of the Resonant Bodies Festival (Australia), and artistic associate of BIFEM.

  • KT Spit
  • Kt Spit (Katie Collins) is an artist and musician based in Narrm (Melbourne). Lyrically and visually her work explores subcultural narratives and challenges dominant representations of loss, grief, and true love. In 2015 Kt independently released her debut album, Combluotion, and in 2019 will release a visual album entitled Kill the King.

  • Immy Chuah and The Convoy
  • The Convoy conjure illustrious soundscapes from the abyss of chaos, revealing hidden worlds of the imagination as the performance takes form and infuses with subjective experience. Using instruments of sound, light and smell, The Convoy enchant space with themes of tension, evolution, entropy and regeneration. Sensorial immersion transports audiences through highly dynamic environments that shift and blend into one single, breathing moment. As entity, rather than singular, Immy Chuah is a guest within The Convoy on unceded land.

  • Sam Peterson
  • I’m interested in what can be done with one’s identity and the space around it. Both my body and mind, touching everyday feelings between the rational, the playful and the political. Of course, this is often to do with my disability and my sexuality. My work has been focused on access, and the lack of it — to places, people’s minds and opportunities. I find plasticine is a great subverter of space and potentially of people’s minds. And the continued flexibility of it is something I am really enjoying — covering or filling up gaps and playing with crevices. But I’m finding that my work is drawing more and more to spoken word as a powerful format.

  • Sarah McCauley
  • Sarah McCauley is a Melbourne-based music producer, editor and writer.

  • Neil Morris
  • Neil Morris is a Yorta Yorta, Dja Dja Wurrung man. He is well known in Narrm/Birraranga for his musical project DRMNGNOW, a project built on subject matter tackling the colonial nature of the Australian construct and how that affects contemporary society upon this land. The work is unapologetic, clear, and deeply poetic. It hints toward Morris's extensive experience as a spoken word artist in Narrm since 2015. Morris's work is triumphant in the face of severe adversity often imbued in a quite fortified melancholy, a powerful marker of the survival of First Nations peoples in the now.

  • Natasha Tontey
  • Natasha Tontey is an artist and graphic designer based in Yogyakarta. She is interested in exploring the concept of fiction as a method of speculative thinking. Through her artistic practice she investigates the idea of how fear, horror, and terror could be manifested in order to control the public and how fictional accounts of the history and myth surrounding ‘manufactured fear’ might operate as a method of speculative fiction that determines expectations for the future.

  • Mat Spisbah
  • Mat Spisbah is a New Media curator with a unique portfolio of programming that seeks to integrate non-traditional artistic methods and emerging technologies. Having lived in Hong Kong for 14 years, he is connected to the region’s art and culture, and has created professional networks with artists, curators, galleries, promoters and industry professionals across Australasia. Portfolio highlights include the debut Australian performances of north Asian artists including: Howie Lee, Rui Ho, Meuko Meuko, Pan Daijing, Alex Zhang Hungtai, Tzusing, and Gabber Modus Operandi.

  • Mandy Nicholson
  • Mandy Nicholson is a Wurundjeri-willam (Wurundjeri-baluk patriline) artist and Traditional Custodian of Melbourne and surrounds. Mandy also has connections to the Dja Dja wurrung and Ngurai illam wurrung language groups of the Central/Eastern Kulin Nation. Mandy gained a Bachelor of Arts (Honours) in Aboriginal Archaeology in 2011, worked for the Victorian Aboriginal Corporation for Languages for six years and is now a PhD candidate studying how Aboriginal people connect to Country, Off Country.

  • Lucreccia Quintanilla
  • Lucreccia Quintanilla is an artist, writer, DJ and PhD candidate researcher at Monash University. Her writing and art have been published and exhibited both within Australia and internationally. Quintanilla’s practice is a collaborative one that manifests into outcomes within galleries and also as events and performances outside of that context. She regularly speaks at panels and symposiums on themes within her research, has received grants for her projects and residencies, and has taught at university level.

  • Amanda Stewart
  • Amanda Stewart is a poet, author, and vocal artist. She has created a diverse range of publications, performances, film and radio productions in Australia, Europe, Japan, and the USA, working in literature, new music, broadcasting, theatre, dance, and new media environments. Amanda collaborated with Chris Mann for many years in the Australian ensemble, Machine For Making Sense (with Jim Denley, Rik Rue, and Stevie Wishart), as well as in other contexts. Her poem ‘ta’ was written in honour of Chris Mann’s extraordinary vision and work.

  • Holly Childs
  • Holly Childs is an artist and writer. Her research involves filtering stories of computation through frames of ecology, earth, memory, poetry, and light. She is the author of two books: No Limit (Hologram, Melbourne) and Danklands (Arcadia Missa, London), and she collaborates with Gediminas Žygus on ‘Hydrangea’. She is currently writing her third book, What Causes Flowers Not to Bloom?.

  • Ivy Alvarez
  • Ivy Alvarez’s poetry collections include The Everyday English Dictionary, Disturbance, and Mortal. Her latest is Diaspora: Volume L (Paloma Press, 2019). A Fellow of MacDowell Colony (US), and Hawthornden (UK), her work is widely published and anthologised (twice in Best Australian Poems), with poems translated into Russian, Spanish, Japanese and Korean. Born in the Philippines and raised in Australia, she lived in Wales for almost a decade, before arriving in New Zealand in 2014.

  • Nick Ashwood
  • Nick Ashwood is a guitarist, composer, improviser and performer from Nipaluna/Tasmania now residing in Sydney. His focuses have been exploring deep listening, harmonic space and the possibilities of the steel-string acoustic guitar by means of preparations, just intonation, objects and bowing.

  • Johnny Chang
  • Berlin-based composer-performer Johnny Chang engages in extended explorations surrounding the relationships of sound/listening and the in-between areas of improvisation, composition and performance. Johnny is part of the Wandelweiser composers collective and currently collaborates with: Catherine Lamb (Viola Torros project), Mike Majkowski (illogical harmonies), Phill Niblock, Samuel Dunscombe, Derek Shirley and others.

  • Megan Alice Clune
  • Megan Alice Clune shifts between musician, composer and artist. Primarily, her work explores both the concept and aesthetics of ambient music through sound installation, collaboration and performance. Megan is the founding member of the Alaska Orchestra, and has presented work and undertaken residencies across Australia, Asia, Europe and North America, including the Bang on a Can Summer Music Festival (MA), Next Wave Festival, Underbelly Arts Festival, Performa 15 (NYC) and VividLIVE at the Sydney Opera House.

  • Andrew Fedorovitch
  • Andrew Fedorovitch is compos mentis.
 Andrew Fedorovitch embodies professionalism in every aspect of his life, including music.

  • Shota
  • Shota is an artist working in Australia. He makes sound-based works for varying contexts. He has had the opportunity to collaborate with a multitude of artists from varying disciplines. Shota is currently an honours student who is associated with the Plant ecophysiology and Ecosystem processes lab at the University of Sydney.

  • Sonya Holowell
  • Sonya Holowell is a Dharawal woman, vocalist, composer and writer working across new and experimental genres. The contexts for her work, and the forms they take, are diverse and deeply questioning. Her practice comprises interdisciplinary collaboration, improvisation, multi-form writing and conceptual composition. She is also a workshop facilitator; a curator of the Now Now Festival; lecturer in experimental vocal practice; and a co-founder/editor of online arts publication ADSR Zine.

  • Alexandra Spence
  • Alexandra Spence is an artist and musician living on Gadigal country in Sydney, Australia. She makes installations, compositions and performances based on (everyday) sound and listening. Through her practice she attempts to reimagine the intricate relationships between the listener, the object, and the surrounding environment as a kind of communion or conversation. She has a current, near-spiritual, obsession with the animation of material and object through sound. Alex has performed and presented work on radio, in concerts, festivals, symposiums and galleries worldwide, and has two releases: Waking, She Heard The Fluttering, with Room40, and Immaterial, with Longform Editions.

  • MP Hopkins
  • MP Hopkins is an artist based in Sydney, Australia, that is concerned with how to record voices that are not really there, and ways to make voices that are there not sound like voices. He makes audio recordings, performances, and texts.

  • Joel Stern
  • Joel Stern is a curator, researcher, and artist living and working on Wurundjeri land in Melbourne, Australia. He has been Artistic Director of Liquid Architecture since 2013. In 2018, with critical legal scholar James Parker, Stern curated Eavesdropping, an expansive project addressing the ‘pol­i­tics of lis­ten­ing’ through work by artists, researchers, writ­ers, detainees and activists from Aus­tralia and around the world.

  • Georgia Hutchison
  • Georgia Hutchison is a cultural development practitioner and arts executive in Naarm/Melbourne, and Executive Director/CEO of Liquid Architecture. Her practice as an artist, educator, organiser and strategist crosses contemporary art, music, design and social justice.

  • Rob Thorne
  • Rob Thorne (Ngāti Tumutumu) is a new and original voice in the evolving journey of Taonga Puoro. His debut album Whāia te Māramatanga (Rattle Records) is a deeply felt and highly concentrated conversation between the past and the present—a musical passage of identity and connection. Using modern loop technology and traditional Māori flutes and horns made from stone, bone, shell and wood, Thorne creates a transcendent aural experience that touches the soul with timeless beauty. Every performance of Whāia te Māramatanga is a stunning and very personal exploration of the spiritual and healing qualities of an ancient practice.

  • Michiko Ogawa
  • Michiko Ogawa is a performer-composer specialising in the clarinet, born and raised in Tokyo, Japan. She performs not only classical repertoire but also contemporary and experimental music, including free improvisation and film soundtrack work. In 2019 she was awarded a doctorate (DMA) from the University of California San Diego, with a dissertation focusing on the film music of Teiji Ito. She is in the begin­ning stages of writ­ing a biogra­phy of Ito’s life.

  • Emma Nixon
  • Curious about the tender intersections between art, life and friendships, Emma Nixon is an emerging curator and writer. In 2018 she completed a Bachelor of Art History and Curating at Monash University and co-founded Cathedral Cabinet ARI in the Nicholas Building. In Melbourne she has curated and written about exhibitions that investigate subjects such as abstraction, the domestic, care and collage within contemporary art.

  • Fayen d'Evie
  • Fayen d’Evie is an artist and writer, based in Muckleford, Australia. Her projects are often conversational and collaborative, and resist spectatorship by inviting audiences into sensorial readings of artworks. Fayen advocates the radical potential for blindness, arguing that blindness offers critical positions and methods attuned to sensory translations, ephemerality, the tangible and the intangible, concealment, uncertainty, the precarious, and the invisible. With artist Katie West, Fayen co-founded the Museum Incognita, which revisits neglected or obscured histories through scores that activate embodied readings. Fayen is also the founder of 3-ply, which investigates artist-led publishing as an experimental site for the creation, dispersal, translation, and archiving of texts.

  • Debris Facility
  • Debris Facility Pty Ltd is a para-corporate entity who engages im/material contexts with the view to highlight and disrupt administrative forms and their embedded power relations. Deploying print, design, installation, and wearables as the most visible parts of operations, they also work in experimental pedagogy and perforated performance of labour. They are a white-settler parasite with theft and dispossession as the implicated ground from which they work. They currently hold contracts with Liquid Architecture, Victorian College of the Arts, Monash University and Debris Facility Pty Ltd.

  • Timmah Ball
  • Timmah Ball is a writer and urban researcher of Ballardong Noongar descent. She has written for The Griffith Review, Right Now, Meanjin, Overland, Westerly, Art Guide Australia, Assemble Papers, The Big Issue, The Lifted Brow, the Victorian Writer magazine and won the Westerly Patricia Hackett Prize for writing.

  • Jessie Scott
  • Jessie Scott is a practising video artist, writer, programmer and producer who works across the spectrum of screen culture in Melbourne. She is a founding member of audiovisual art collective Tape Projects, and co-directed and founded the inaugural Channels Video Art Festival in 2013.

  • Christopher LG Hill
  • Christopher L G Hill is an artist, poet, anarchist, collaborator, facilitator, lover, friend, DJ, performer, sound pervader, publisher of Endless Lonely Planet, co-label boss; Bunyip trax, traveller, homebody, dancer, considerate participator, dishwasher, writer, bencher, eater, exhibitor: Sydney, Physics Room, Westspace, TCB, BUS, Punk Cafe,100 Grand street, Lismore Regional Gallery, Good Press, Gambia Castle, Conical, GCAS, NGV, VCA, Mission Comics, Slopes, Art Beat, Papakura Gallery, Neon Parc, UQ Gallery, Tate Modern, Connors Connors, Glasgow International, Sandy Brown, OFLUXO, New Scenarios, Margaret Lawrence, Flake, Utopian Slumps, World Food Books, Sutton, Rearview, Joint Hassles, a basement, a tree, Innen publications, SAM, Chateau 2F, etc, and tweeter, twitcher, sleeper, Biennale director (‘Melbourne Artist initiated’ 2008, 2011, 2013, 2016, 2018-20), DJ, retired gallerist Y3K, conversationalist who represents them self and others, born Melbourne/Narrm 1980c.e, lives World.

  • Iliass Saoud
  • Iliass Saoud was born in Halba, Lebanon in 1960 as the sixth of eight children of Wakim and Nadima Saoud. Escaping the Lebanese Civil War in 1977, Iliass migrated to Canada pursued a BA in Mathematics from Dalhouse University in 1982. In 1987 he married Janice Joseph (Fakhry) before settling in Australia to raise his family in 1997, owning a variety of small businesses including the Gaffney Street post office across from the Lincoln Mill’s Centre in Coburg from 2005-2011. Currently, Iliass works part time at a local newsagency and is an avid Bridge player and a dedicated grandfather of one.

  • Dimitri Troaditis
  • Dimitri Troaditis works in the Greek-Australian media. As a poet he has been extensively published in Greece and in Australia in numerous literary journals, websites, blogs and anthologies. He has published six poetry collections and two social history books so far. He has organised poetry readings in Melbourne for years and translates others’ poetry. He runs poetry website To Koskino and was a resident of Coburg for 19 years.

  • Luisa Lana
  • Luisa Lana was born in Australia in 1953. Her mother Nannina had arrived in Australia in 1950 with a 3 month old son, and worked for many years on the sewing room floors and her father Angelo worked on the docks where he helped unionise the Italian workforce. Luisa and her brother were latchkey kids, as they looked after themselves in the morning and ran the ‘Continental’ deli in the evenings. Luisa attained a teaching degree, then a postgrad in Social Sciences, and twice studied Italian at The University for Foreigners in Perugia, Italy. Luisa married Luigino Lana, a Venetian migrant who operated a mechanic business in Brunswick for over 30 years. She devoted her life to being an educator and a mother, teaching Italian to English speakers and English to generations of migrants from around the world. Currently Luisa is translating her father's memoirs from Italian to English, and enjoying being a Nonna.

  • Anabelle Lacroix
  • Anabelle Lacroix is a French-Australian curator, writer and radio contributor. Working independently in Paris, she is based at Fondation Fiminco for a year-long residency focused on the politics of sleeplessness (2020). She has a broad practice, and a current interest in experimental practice, working with performance, sound, discourse and publishing. She is a PhD candidate at UNSW Art & Design.

  • Geoff Robinson
  • Geoff Robinson is a Melbourne-based artist working on Wurundjeri country. Robinson creates event-based artworks that utilise the temporal qualities of sound and performance and the spatial conditions of physical sites to unravel the durational layers of place. Robinson has presented projects with Titanik, Turku; Bus Projects, Melbourne; Liquid Architecture, Melbourne; and MoKS, Mooste, Estonia. He was awarded the Melbourne Prize for Urban Sculpture 2014 and completed the PhD project Durational Situation at MADA, Monash University, Melbourne, 2018.

  • Mattin
  • Mattin is a cross disciplinary artist working with noise, improvisation and dissonance. His work Social Dissonance was presented at documenta 14 in 2017 in Kassel and Athens.

  • Elena Biserna
  • Elena Biserna is a scholar and independent curator based in Marseille (France), working at the intersection of social, political and public spheres.

  • Tobi Maier
  • Tobi Maier is the director of Lisbon’s Municipal Galleries, and recently presented Mattin’s Expanding Concert (2019–2023) a four year long concert distributed in time and space through different media: 5 public interventions in 5 different galleries in Lisbon, and 5 texts published within the city.

  • Clare Milledge
  • Clare Milledge is an artist and academic, she lives and works between the lands of the Arakwal people in Bundjalung country (Broken Head, Northern NSW) and the lands of the Bidjigal and Gadigal people (Paddington, Sydney). She is a Senior Lecturer at UNSW Art & Design and is represented by STATION gallery.

  • Alexander Powers
  • Alexander Powers is a choreographer, performer and DJ from Naarm. In 2019 they premiered their first full length choreographic work Time Loop at the Melbourne Fringe Festival, receiving the Temperance Hall Award at the Fringe Awards. Under the moniker Female Wizard, they are known internationally for their forward-thinking DJ sets. They’ve performed at Golden Plains, Dark Mofo, Boiler Room, Hybrid Festival and Soft Centre and held a four year residency at Le Fag.

  • Zoe Scoglio
  • Zoe Scoglio’s (often collaborative) practice explores the space of art as a site of study and sociality to engage the radical imagination towards alternative ways of being, knowing and relating. Current research takes critical and collective somatic approaches towards response-ability in these times of ecological collapse, within settler colonial conditions. Past projects have taken place within varied contexts, on top of mountains and under full moons, as large collective choreographies and intimate encounters.

  • Tricky Walsh
  • Tricky Walsh is a non-binary artist working in New Norfolk, Tasmania, who works both collaboratively and in a solo capacity. Their projects focus on both spatial and communication concerns in an increasingly speculative manner and while they use a diversity of media (architecture, painting, drawing, sculpture, installation, sound, film, comics, radio) it is foremost the concept at hand that determines which form of material experimentation occurs within these broader themes.

  • Kengné Téguia
  • Kengné Téguia is a Black Deaf HIV+ cyborg artist, who works from sound deafinitely. #TheBLACKRevolutionwillbeDEAFinitelyLoud

  • Ange Goh
  • Angela Goh is a dancer and choreographer. Her work poses possibilities for disruption and transformation inside the aesthetics and conditions of technocapitalism, planetarity, and the post-anthropocene. She lives and works in Sydney, and has toured her work across Australia, Europe, the UK, the USA and Asia. She received the 2020 Keir Choreographic Award and the inaugural Sydney Dance Company Beyond the Studio Fellowship 2020-21.

  • Jannah Quill
  • Jannah Quill’s deconstructive exploration of electronic instruments and technologies manifests in electronic music production and experimental audio-visual performance and installation. Jannah modifies existing technologies (such as solar panels) into innovative light-to-audio systems, used with software/hardware experimentation and modular synthesis to carve a distinct voice in electronic music and art.

  • Tom Smith
  • Tom Smith is a Melbourne-based artist, musician and researcher whose work combines video assemblages, experimental performance, speculative fiction, electronic music, websites and critical writing. Tom’s work is concerned with the politics and poetics of computational systems, the contradictions of creative economies, generic digital aesthetics and music as a mode of critical inquiry. Tom is also one half of music production duo Utility, and runs an independent record label called Sumactrac with Jarred Beeler (DJ Plead) and Jon Watts.

  • Pris Roos
  • Pris Roos grew up in Rhenen, the Netherlands. Her family migrated from Bogor, Indonesia, to start their own toko in the Netherlands. Toko is the Indonesian word for shop, and they sell non-Western food (products). Roos grew up in the toko, a space of being together, and full of colours, smells, food, stories and images of immigrants. The toko is a source of inspiration for her artistic practices. Stories that are normally not heard find their way in her works. Roos makes portraits of immigrants that she meets in the toko, on the streets or in her surroundings of the South of Rotterdam. She visits them at home or invites them to her atelier. The stories are translated into painted portraits, videos, installations and spoken word performances.

  • Winnie Dunn
  • Winnie Dunn is a Tongan-Australian writer and arts worker from Mt Druitt. She is the general manager of Sweatshop: Western Sydney Literacy Movement and holds a Bachelor of Arts degree from Western Sydney University. Winnie’s work has been published in the HuffPost Australia, The Saturday Paper, Griffith Review, Meanjin Quarterly, SBS Voices and Cordite. She is the editor of several anthologies including Sweatshop Women, The Big Black Thing and Bent Not Broken. Winnie is currently completing her debut novel as the recipient of a 2019 CAL Ignite Grant.

  • Jon Watts
  • Jon Watts is a Melbourne/Naarm based musician, designer, 3D artist and animator. His music has been released through cult labels SUMAC and Butter Sessions, and he is currently Senior Multimedia Installer at the National Gallery of Victoria.

  • PAN-PAN Kolektiva
  • Pan-Pan Kolektiva was established in March 2020, as a research group on listening. Pan-Pan is a standard emergency call based on the acronym Pan which stands for Pay Attention Now.

  • Nathan Gray
  • Nathan Gray is an artist whose recent works use voice as their medium, taking form as lecture-performances, radio-plays and documentaries, DJ sets, narrative and rumour.

  • Makiko Yamamoto
  • Makiko Yamamoto
    makik markie yammamoroto
    Yammer matah

  • Leighton Craig
  • Leighton Craig is an artist living in Meanjin/Brisbane. He has been in a number of bands (The Lost Domain, G55, The Deadnotes et al) and is currently a member of the duo Primitive Motion with Sandra Selig.

  • Anne Zeitz
  • Anne Zeitz is associate professor at University Rennes 2. Her research focuses on aural attention, the inaudible, the unheard, and the polyphony in contemporary art. She directed the research project 'Sound Unheard' and she co-organised the eponymous exhibition at the Goethe-Institut Paris, Paris and exhibition 'Échos magnétiques” at the MBA Rennes, Rennes in 2019.

  • Melissa Johnson
  • Melissa Johnson is Associate Professor of Art History & Visual Culture at Illinois State University (Normal, IL). Her scholarly research focuses on the histories of craft and its intersections with modern and contemporary art. She is currently working on a project that explores artists making work in response to the writings of Virginia Woolf. She’s deeply interested in situating her academic writing and her textile-based work as parallel practices, and is working on two writing and textile projects, “Woolf Words” and “Haptic Investigations,” and a project on mending and repair.

  • Diego Ramirez
  • Diego Ramirez makes art, writes about culture, and labours in the arts. In 2018, he showed his video work in a solo screening by ACCA x ACMI and he performed in Lifenessless at West Space x Gertrude Contemporary in 2019. His work has been shown locally and internationally at MARS Gallery, ACMI, Westspace, Torrance Art Museum, Hong-Gah Museum, Careof Milan, Buxton Cotntemporary, WRO Media Art Biennale, Human Resources LA, Art Central HK, Sydney Contemporary, and Deslave. His words feature in Art and Australia, NECSUS, un Projects, Runway Journal, Art Collector, and Australian Book Review. He is represented by MARS Gallery, Editor-at-large at Running Dog and Gallery Manager at SEVENTH.

  • Noemie Cecilia Huttner-Koros
  • Noemie Cecilia Huttner-Koros is a queer Jewish performance-maker, writer, dramaturg, poet, teaching artist and community organiser living and working on Whadjuk Noongar country in Boorloo (Perth). Her practice is driven by a deep belief in the social, political and communal role of art and performance and in engaging with sites and histories where queer culture, composting and ecological crisis occur.

  • Josten Myburgh
  • Josten Myburgh is a musician based on Whadjuk Noongar boodja country who plays with techniques from the worlds of electro-acoustic music, radio art, free improvisation, field recording and experimental composition. He co-directs exploratory music label Tone List and the Audible Edge festival. He has performed in South Africa, the United States, and throughout South East Asia, Europe and Australia. He is a Schenberg Fellow and a student of Antoine Beuger and Michael Pisaro.

  • Aisyah Aaqil Sumito
  • Aisyah Aaqil Sumito is an artist and writer living near Derbarl Yerrigan on Whadjuk Noongar Bibbulmun lands. Their work reflects mostly on personal intersections of disability, queerness and diasporic ancestry in so-called 'australia'. They have recently made text-based contributions to Runway Journal and HERE&NOW20: Perfectly Queer, Lawrence Wilson Art Gallery.

  • Michael Terren
  • Michael Terren is a musician and educator from Boorloo/Perth. Grounded in experimental studio-based practice, his work explores the social construction of the technologies of music’s creation and distribution. He is a sessional academic teaching music at two Boorloo universities, and in 2019 finished a PhD thesis entitled 'The grain of the digital audio workstation'.

  • Joee Mejias
  • Joee Mejias is a musician and video artist from Manila. She is co-producer of WSK, the first and only international festival of digital arts and new media in the Philippines and co-founder of HERESY, a new platform for women in sound and multimedia. She performs as Joee & I: her avant-pop electronica solo project.

  • Myriad Sun
  • Myriad Sun are an experimental audio/visual/rap trio from Walyalup (Fremantle), Australia, composed of electronic producer Ben Aguero, Mc POW! Negro, and Limit Bashr. Additional performers: Mali Jose, Billy Jack Narkle and Polly-Pearl Greenhalgh.

  • Jasmine Guffond
  • Jasmine Guffond is an artist and composer working at the interface of social, political, and technical infrastructures. Focused on electronic composition across music and art contexts her practice spans live performance, recording, installation and custom made browser add-ons. Through the sonification of data she addresses the potential of sound to engage with contemporary political questions and engages listening as a situated-knowledge practice.

  • Sounding Together
  • Sounding Together comprise of the following performers: Rhys Butler (alto saxophone); Simon Charles (soprano saxophone, shakuhachi); Eduardo Cossio (electronics, writing); Luke Cuerel (alto saxophone); Jim Denley (flute, writing); Julia Drouhin (voice, electronics, objects, images); Jameson Feakes (mandolin); Be Gosper (voice, objects); Noemie Huttner-Koros (voice, writing); Lenny Jacobs (percussion); Annette Krebs (amplified string instrument); Annika Moses (voice, images); Josten Myburgh (clarinet, alto saxophone, editing); Dan O’Connor (mastering); Stuart Orchard (guitar, objects, editing); Daisy Sanders (voice, movement).

  • Yan Jun
  • Yan Jun, a musician based in Beijing uses a wide range of materials such as field recording, body, noise and concept. Yan Jun: “I wish I was a piece of field recording.”

  • Katie West
  • Katie West is a multi-disciplinary artist who lives on Noongar Ballardong boodja and belongs to the Yindjibarndi people of the Pilbara tablelands in Western Australia. The process and notion of naturally dyeing fabric underpin her practice – the rhythm of walking, gathering, bundling, boiling up water and infusing materials with plant matter. The objects, installations and happenings that Katie creates invite attention to the ways we weave our stories, places, histories, and futures.

  • Simon Charles
  • Simon Charles is a composer and performer based in Noongar Ballardong Country (Western Australia). His practice reflects an interest in the instability of compositional structures; as friction between musical notation and perception and interactions with place. He has performed at Serralvés Festival (Porto), The Wulf (Los Angeles) Studio Rotor (Berlin), Vigeland Mausoleum (Oslo), Avantwhatever Festival (Melbourne), DATA (Marseille), ANAM Quarttethaus and the Melbourne Recital Centre.

  • Tiarney Miekus
  • Tiarney Miekus is a writer, editor and musician based in Naarm/Melbourne. Her writing has appeared in The Age, Meanjin, The Lifted Brow (Online), Overland, Memo Review, un Magazine, Art Guide Australia, Swampland and RealTime. She is currently editor and podcast producer at Art Guide Australia.

  • Liang Luscombe
  • Liang Luscombe is a Naarm/Melbourne-based visual artist whose practice encompasses painting, sculpture and moving image that engage in a process of generative questioning of how media and film affect audiences.

  • Thembi Soddell
  • Thembi Soddell is a sound artist best known for their powerful acousmatic performances and installations in darkness. In 2019 they were awarded a PhD from RMIT University for their practice-based research titled, A Dense Mass of Indecipherable Fear: The Experiential (Non)Narration of Trauma and Madness through Acousmatic Sound. This research developed a novel approach to understanding lived experiences of anxiety, depression and trauma using a medium (abstract sound) with the unique ability to reflect the intangible nature of the inner world.

  • James Parker
  • James Parker is an academic at Melbourne Law School and long-time associate curator with Liquid Architecture. His work explores the many relations between law, sound and listening. He is currently working on machine listening with Joel Stern and Sean Dockray.

  • Eloise Sweetman
  • Eloise Sweetman loves art, misses her home in Western Australia, all the time loving Rotterdam where she became friends with Pris Roos whose artwork Sweetman speaks of. Sweetman is a curator, artist, writer and teacher working in intimacy, not knowing and material relation. She started Shimmer with Dutch-Australian artist Jason Hendrik Hansma in 2017.

  • Cecilia Vicuña
  • Cecilia Vicuña's work dwells in the not yet, the future potential of the unformed, where sound, weaving, and language interact to create new meanings.

    'In January 1966, I began creating precarios (precarious) installations and basuritas, objects composed of debris, structures that disappear, along with quipus and other weaving metaphors. I called these works 'Arte Precario', creating a new independent category, a non-colonized name for them. The precarios soon evolved into collective rituals and oral performances based on dissonant sound and the shamanic voice. The fluid, multi-dimensional quality of these works allowed them to exist in many media and languages at once. Created in and for the moment, they reflect ancient spiritual technologies—a knowledge of the power of individual and communal intention to heal us and the earth.'
    —Cecilia Vicuña

  • Camila Marambio
  • Camila Marambio is a private investigator, amateur dancer, permaculture enthusiast, and sporadic writer, but first and foremost, she is a curator and the founder/director of Ensayos, a nomadic interdisciplinary research program in Tierra del Fuego.

  • Las Chinas
  • Las Chinas is the cosmic coincidences led to the meeting of Chileans Sarita Gálvez and Camila Marambio in Melbourne. Their shared reverence for the ancestral flautón chino from the Andes Mountains lead to playful explorations of its unique dissonant sounds and thereafter to experimenting with atonal signing and other technologies of the spirit.

    Influenced by Chilean feminist poet Cecilia Vicuña, the now deceased poet Fidel Sepúlveda, the musical ensemble La Chimuchina and the chino bands from the townships of La Canela and Andacollo, Las Chinas honours the ancestral tradition by enacting the principle of tearing each other apart.

  • Bryan Phillips
  • Bryan Phillips A.K.A. Galambo is a Chilean/Australian artist working in community arts, music and performance, using sound as a means to facilitate engagement with others. His practice has mainly been developed in Chile, but after completing his Masters in Community Cultural Development (VCA-2013) he has become involved in projects with artists from Timor-Leste, Indonesia and Australia.

  • Douglas Kahn
  • Douglas Kahn is an historian and theorist of energies in the arts, sound in the arts and sound studies, and media arts, from the late-nineteenth century to the present. His books include Energies in the Arts (MIT Press, 2019); Earth Sound Earth Signal: Energies and Earth Magnitude in the Arts (University of California Press, 2013); Noise Water Meat: A History of Sound in the Arts (MIT Press, 1999); Mainframe Experimentalism: Early Computing and the Foundations of Digital Arts, edited with Hannah Higgins (University of California Press, 2012); and Source: Music of the Avant-garde, edited with Larry Austin (University of California Press, 2011).

  • André Dao
  • André Dao is a writer, editor, researcher, and artist. His debut novel, Anam, won the 2021 Victorian Premier’s Literary Award for an Unpublished Manuscript. He is also the co-founder of Behind the Wire, an oral history project documenting people’s experience of immigration detention and a producer of the Walkley-award winning podcast, The Messenger. He is a member of the Manus Recording Project Collective.

  • Poppy de Souza
  • Poppy de Souza is a Meanjin (Brisbane) based researcher affiliated with Griffith University and UNSW. Her work focuses on the politics of voice and listening—broadly defined—in conditions of inequality and injustice, including the relationship between sound, race, and conditions of (not) being heard. Poppy has previously worked in community arts and cultural development (CACD), and with the national Film and Sound Archive as a curator on australianscreen.

  • Andrew Brooks
  • Andrew Brooks is an artist, writer, and teacher who lives on unceded Wangal land. He is a lecturer in media cultures at UNSW, one half of the critical art collective Snack Syndicate, and a member of the Rosa Press Collective. Homework, a book of essays co-written with Astrid Lorange, was recently published by Discipline.

  • Behrouz Boochani
  • Behrouz Boochani is a Kur­dish-Iran­ian writer, jour­nal­ist, scholar, cul­tural advo­cate and film­maker. He was writer for the Kur­dish lan­guage mag­a­zine Werya. He writes reg­u­larly for The Guardian and sev­eral other pub­li­ca­tions. Boochani is also co-direc­tor (with Arash Kamali Sar­ves­tani) of the 2017 fea­ture-length film Chauka, Please Tell Us the Time, and author of No Friend but the Moun­tains: Writ­ing from Manus Prison. He was held on Manus Island from 2013 until 2019.

  • Emma Russell
  • Emma Russell is a critical carceral studies scholar and senior lecturer in crime, justice and legal studies at La Trobe University, Australia. She researches and writes on policing and criminalisation, prisons, detention, and activism. Emma is the author of Queer Histories and the Politics of Policing (2020) and co-author of Resisting Carceral Violence: Women’s Imprisonment and the Politics of Abolition (2018).

  • Dylan Martorell
  • Dylan Martorell is an artist and musician based in Narrm/Melbourne Victoria. He is a founding member of Slow Art Collective, Snawklor, Hi God People, and Forum of Sensory Motion. He has performed and exhibited internationally, including projects with; Art Dubai, Asian Art Biennale, Tarrawarra Biennale, Jakarta Biennale and Kochi Muzirus Biennale. His work often combines site-specific materiality and music to create temporary sites for improvised community engagement.

  • Jim Denley
  • Jim Denley is one of Australia's foremost improvisers. Over a career spanning four decades his work has emphasised the use of recording technologies, collaboration, and a concern with site-specificity.

  • Noah Simblist
  • Noah Simblist works as a curator, writer, and artist with a focus on art and politics, specifically the ways in which contemporary artists address history. He has contributed to Art in America, Terremoto, Art Journal and other publications.
    He is also an Associate Professor of Art at Virginia Commonwealth University.

  • Jacqui Shelton
  • Jacqui Shelton is an artist and writer born on Barada Barna land, central QLD, and based in Narrm, Melbourne. Her work uses text, performance, film-making and photography to explore the complications of performance and presence, and how voice, language, and image can collaborate or undermine one another. She is especially interested in how emotion and embodied experience can be made public and activated to reveal a complex politics of living-together, and the tensions this makes visible. She has produced exhibitions and performance works in association with institutions including Gertrude Contemporary, the Institute of Modern Art, West Space, Australian Centre for Contemporary Art, Tarrawarra Museum, and with Channels Festival and Liquid Architecture. Shelton has shown work internationally in Milan at Care-Of, and at NARS Inc in New York City. She teaches photography at Monash University and in the Masters of Media program at RMIT, and holds a PhD from Monash University.

  • A Hanley
  • A Hanley is an artist currently living on Wurundjeri Country in Melbourne, Australia. Their practice uses sound and media to explore relations among queer ecologies, attunement, situatedness, and speculative practices. Engaging forms of performance, installation, and collaboration, Hanley's work is interested in audition as an affective practice and the possibilities of sound and technology to support and alter the sonic expressions of humans and non-humans.

  • Patrick Hase
  • Patrick Hase is a digital media artist and researcher, focusing on work that often involves digital interfaces, experimental web design, and collaborative a/v. The entwined practical and theoretical aspects of his work are interested in exploring the embedded cultural and emotional impacts of how people are extended into the virtual via digital processes and designs.

  • Xen Nhà
  • Xen Nhà is a documentary maker and artist with a background in creating intimate dialogues and storytelling across sound, film, and texts. Their work explores the confluence between personal and collective narratives and the cultural politics and responsibility of listening. They are currently living in Melbourne on unceded Wurundjeri Country.

  • Philip Brophy
  • Philip Brophy writes on music, among other things.

  • Coco Klockner
  • Coco Klockner is an artist and writer living in New York City. Recent exhibitions include venues such as The Alfred Ceramic Art Museum, Alfred, NY; Interstate Projects, Brooklyn; Guadalajara90210, CDMX; The Luminary, St. Louis; Bass & Reiner, San Francisco; Lubov, New York; ONE Archives, Los Angeles; and Egret Egress, Toronto. They are the author of the book K-Y (Genderfail, 2019) and have published writing with Montez Press, Real Life Magazine, Spike Art Magazine, and Burnaway.

  • Lu Yang
  • Lu Yang (b. Shanghai, China) is a multimedia artist based in Shanghai. Mortality, androgyny, hysteria, existentialism and spiritual neurology feed Lu’s jarring and at times morbid fantasies. Also taking inspiration and resources from Anime, gaming and Sci-fi subcultures, Lu explores his fantasies through mediums including 3D animation, immersive video game installation, holographic, live performances, virtual reality, and computer programming. Lu has collaborated with scientists, psychologists, performers, designers, experimental composers, Pop Music producers, robotics labs, and celebrities throughout his practice.

    Lu Yang has held exhibitions at UCCA (Beijing), MWoods (Beijing), Cc Foundation (Shanghai), Spiral (Tokyo), Fukuoka Museum of Asian Art (Fukuoka, Japan), Société (Berlin), MOCA Cleveland (Cleveland, Ohio). He has participated in several international biennials and triennials such as 2021 Asia Society Triennial (New York), 2012 & 2018 Shanghai Biennial, 2018 Athens Biennale, 2016 Liverpool Biennial, 2016 International Digital Art Biennale (Montreal), Chinese Pavilion of the 56th Venice Biennale, and 2014 Fukuoka Triennial. In 2020, Lu Yang was included in Centre Pompidou’s exhibition Neurons, simulated intelligence in Paris. In 2019, Lu was the winner of the 8th BMW Art Journey and started the Yang Digital Incarnation project.

  • Jason De Santolo
  • Jason De Santolo (Garrwa and Barunggam) is a researcher & creative producer based in the School of Design, University of Technology Sydney, Australia. He has worked with his own communities as an activist and advocate using film and performance, protest and education to bring attention to injustices and design solutions using Indigenous knowledge.

  • Kynan Tan
  • Kynan Tan is an artist interested in the relations and conditions of computational systems, with a focus on data, algorithm, networks, materiality, control, and affect. These areas are explored using computer-generated artworks that take the form of simulations, video, sound, 3d prints, text, code, and generative algorithms.

  • Snack Syndicate
  • Snack Syndicate, two rats (Andrew Brooks and Astrid Lorange) living on unceded Wangal land; texts, objects, events, meals, and publics.

  • Spence Messih
  • Spence Messih is an artist living and working on Gadigal land. Their practice speaks broadly to sites of pressure, power structures, materiality, and language, and more specifically about these things in relation to their own trans experience.

  • Tina Stefanou
  • Tina Stefanou born of Sophia and Yorgios Stefanou is a first/second generation Greek-Australian. Emerging from an East Melbourne hospital on 21 November 1986. She is thirty-four years old. Now based on the unceded lands of the Wurundjeri people in Wattle Glen, Victoria. With a background as a vocalist, she works undisciplined, with and across a diverse range of mediums, practices, approaches, and labours: an embodied practice that she calls, 'voice in the expanded field'.

  • Tom Melick
  • Tom Melick is the co-editor of Slug and part of the Rosa Press Collective and Stolon Press.

  • Trisha Low
  • Trisha Low is a writer living in the East Bay. She is the author of The Compleat Purge (Kenning Editions, 2013) and Socialist Realism (Emily Books/Coffee House Press, 2019).

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Night Walks: An Index
MP Hopkins & Alexandra Spence

MP & Alexandra have been meeting in public places to play music late at night. Night Walks is a form of exercise and improvisation using instruments, domestic objects, and assorted electronic devices. They record with a collection of microphones – a kind of field recording in which they can explore, share space, and learn about the night. These recordings have been transcribed, and are offered here, with entry via an index: a way to enter a circular document. A transcription with no beginning or end. A record of midnight strolling, playing, listening, remembering, perspective, forgetting, and space. Four meetings: a tower, a canal, a bridge, and an oval. A way to listen backwards, and forwards, and sideways to places.

A tower.
Metal structure resonating.
A structure of sound climbed and caressed.
Footsteps clomping, wind vibrating, a wind resonance, a whirl, a whoosh.
Three types of wind.
Sniffling, colder than I thought.
Footsteps sound like leaves crunching, or chips munching.
A gong to imitate the handrail, a communication between structure and instrument.
Metal güiro, like a robotic mosquito.
Windier than I remember, tap, click, gong, whoosh, crunch, a clinking, and stepping tempo set.
Tapping music.
Medium metal particles at 10,000 frames per second, slowed, and partially erased.
Some cars join in with the whooshing wind.
Wind/string/human whistling/magnetic tape slippages.
A whirly tape makes me think of the bardo.
This space felt lost between time; a night with thick aura, there is a sadness to this one that we did not know at the time — do we know it now?
Now wiping a surface and grating the rail.
Always wind, a constant wind language.
Thick (back to top) billowing, we are owling.
High up, the structure becomes an instrument, a whole membrane sounding, every particle feels very alive but also haunted, apparitions in space and time.
Always tonal banging, footsteps on the instrument, a constant — did we hold a pitch pipe up for the wind to play?
The wind wants to play.
Wine bottle blown by MP.
Tape loop made by Alexandra.
The wine bottle encompasses me, my organs vibrate, low tone, whirly tone, one strong, one fragile, air like white noise, passing cars like pink noise, bottles clink, footsteps clang.
Right (back to top).
There’s a tree, and it looks like a pair of pants, a pair of trousers suspended, MP traces the tree/trouser boundary, it is a ceramic circling action.
Left ear.
It’s just the trunk.
It’s at the boundary of the park (the lockdown area of concern).
Don’t want to look at it.
Right ear, left ear, wind centre.
Knuckles on metal, city lights suspended mid-code, boundary marks the curfew, invisible, futile, a geographical margin of concern, a bardo of concern, crinkling of plastic, and a marble rolls down the staircase, loud and abrasive, I want to make a lot of noise, to join the wind, but the wind seems to have stopped now, it doesn’t want me to join in, maybe it’s a soloist, or it is isolating too.
Crunchy, squeaky, was it a huge flock of clumsy pigeons?
Traffic again, and now I play the Casio keyboard, flute tone, the most ethereal timbre, fitting for the night.
A passing car motor vibrates in tune.
Stillness holds me, somehow, in these tones.
Stillness — a third liminal space.
One — the wind bardo.
Two — the geographical concern.
Three — the stillness that holds.
One of us with sticks, one of us with stones.
The metal güiro has grown.
Strings, then a car accelerates, stillness, some small sounds, amongst some distant sounds.
A tiny lullaby for the viewing tower, adjacent to other sounds ascending/descending.
I’m looking at the trouser-pant tree again. It looks like it’s moved closer to me — was it beginning to listen in?
Three dings.
I think I thought that this was wooden.
I thought the same.
I was thinking about tapping.
Which is what we… yeah.
It seems like the metal is reflecting all the traffic, I didn’t really notice any traffic, reflection of traffic and presumptions of structure according to maps.
Compared to the other week.
Muffles, clinks, squeaks.
Shall we.
1, 2, 3.
A scene from a road movie: it is night, wide shot, camera follows a small hatchback, mountains are barely visible in background, mist, greys and greens, sounds of dirt, dents and dings, a deranged density, loss, shallow breathing.
Rubbing palms, rocks rubbing strings, gravelling a small regret.
Soft pencil lead.
I do not remember this part.
Distorted echoes, a thudding grows louder, scrape scrape, step step, wind thudding grows, a spiral begins at my feet and circles out, wrapping around my insides, to my outsides, to things outside (not me), static swims in circles to the top of the viewing tower and creates a vortex, an umbrella of hiss becomes the roof, and we tap away underneath to stop it from swallowing us.
Wow, tones growl from my feet, to the top of my head, tingling, subtle melodies pass with the wind.
A very small chuckle escapes.
Magnetic tape winding.
This is a way for us to insert ourselves into the night.
Like muted bells.
A string resonates, or maybe just the structure is now a string, and it growls when struck?
The tower has been switched on; a switch flicked by tones turning a romantic wind finger towards the stairs.
A simple collection of tones, sticks of various sizes striking, someone rubs their ears, the distant car, a wine bottle, so much rumbling, someone is running gently down the stairs of the instrument.
I remember it was very cold.
Clicking, discombobulating.
It was definitely a portal.
Or simply a pause.
This time the wind played with us: blow, breath, breeze, heaving.
Breathing fragments of parklands near where I grew up.
Suburbs, discovery, stars, minds, bent, violence, use.
The pop from metal expanding in heat — but it wasn’t hot.
Someone whistles, someone blows a tone atop the bottle.
There’s a tape loop cycling, I can tell from its click, but it sounds empty.
Cycling through nothingness (is blank tape a metaphor for lockdown?)
Something shiny, like reverberant chalk, but I think it’s a bottle, a glassy sound.
Left right centre, swirling, a device start-up sound, dial tone.
Wind language again.
Long, low tones spread horizontal, glossy swirls grow vertical.
Shiny in the night.
There is distortion in the signal.
Every sound seems to be a shadow, nothing seems solid.
High pitch.
There’s always someone vacuuming.
Moving down the stairs, I remember seeing bodies, people coming closer in the quiet night, I moved upstairs again, safety in the instrument, in the night.
I remember almost talking.
Thickened steps.
Thin words.
The wind and I play together.
A stick dragged lightly along the path.
I remember.
Walking away while strings are taut up top, a rumbling stick, a gritty string, a melody, I’m imagining ashes falling for some reason.
String and scrape lamentation.
Somehow, we are separate but in tune/time.
Tones seem to emanate from the air.
I wouldn’t describe this as a field recording, it’s more a measurement of stairs.
High, low, and textural — echoes grow together.
Gravel, and glass, and gravity, and grace.
Not sure if the sound is inside or outside, but when we stop, it continues.
Shaking, microphones, unwrapping, patience.
A rustle, a hesitation, softly spoken.
3, 2, 1.
A canal.
Rock stepping, microphone fishing, pebble tossing, and thinking about how to talk through the water without using a tube.
Crunchy preparations, a little feedback, a tinkling shell, a rock gliding, tapping on a metal pot, passing cars.
I think we had met earlier.
Some stones tossed, and stones hit. Secret codes in the tapping.
A slippery sound, water bugs joining from within the canal.
Footsteps on gravel, and the string-thing.
Or was it the strings we’d strung in the tree. Squeaky, soft, gentle scratchings.
Offering and attaching strings to the night.
In the underpass the road and traffic above move like a Lazy Susan, a sonic lid twirling rubber, and metal.
Low engine rumbles sound comforting; warm car sounds on a cold evening.
Something hollow is struck, sounding woody; another warm tone to shelter in.
As I’m transcribing, the leaves outside the window lean in to listen closer.
Tiny droplets, plinks, teeny plonks. Strings, glug, transit, a kind of surgery.
But this time a low tone is growing softly, a melody?
Tape is always a mist. Magnetic midnight misting.
The time is reminding the water not to be disapproving of all the sounds, and is asking us if they can all be agreeable, and they speak up suddenly, it is a solidarity.
We walk.
Cars pass over our heads; on the (back to top) that we are under. Long, low, wavering engines passing left to right.
Our crunchy footsteps, and clumsy object tapping.
We’re out of sync, and I like it.
Lazy scrapings strung to the water strings, and descriptions of loss, and dribbling, and a shot thought about how to talk through the water.
I don’t want to talk to the water or into it, but through it, so it comes out another side. A liquid vocal filter/passage to somewhere else is what I’m thinking about.
Something sounds like breath in the cold air. I can hear the condensation, as stones are dropped in the canal. Shells trembling together. Air traversing the liquid boundary.
360° vertical and horizontal traffic as a time signature.
An echo of a tape loop could be a real acoustic shadow from the bridge.
Something about the traffic. Tones from nowhere. Clicks. Gravel, pebbles, tiny pebbles, honking — did we really play a tree?
Light tapping
Insert. Accent. Wind, an absence of wind.
Somehow it seems warming, maybe I noticed the heat of the traffic, but not the sound.
The harbour is a microphone.
Pelicans again.
A whisper, under breath, strings, and water.
Strings spread like a web blowing, and bowing us — the technology for learning about the night.
Wind demanding an answer.
Some sort of cylinder, talking through the water.
Flutes, bottles, mouths, tunnels.
Gently, a whispering, a residue of the material travelling through the air with the sound.
Our feet, the rocks, strings, and the overpass are all antennas for tuning into the night logic.
A magnificent clunking/bubbling/pressed sound.
Talking through the cylinder straw into the water. Talking through the bubbles of the water like in a water bottle. Talking through the mud. Talking through the string…
Tones remind us.
The colour sound clipping, clunking, cracking, copping. A whistle.
We circle each other, microphones, bows, playback devices, and in doing this we also circle the ability to speak of the night.
A motor vibrates my insides. Walking, just drawing. If the stick was hollow could you talk through the water?
Water dripping. We speak at the same time, but not to each other. We speak to the air we breathe in.
Notes, patch, rocks onward, and water bubbling, two pelicans. Pressure, lethargy, strings, sparks, falling asleep, wide-awake, squeaking, waking up.
I can feel the traffic rumbling. I’m rummaging. For a tape, masking or magnetic?
It’s as if the night has just clicked her fingers, and objects momentarily shift, and shuffle into their right place.
Feeling, just dreaming, at the moment. This time sounds sonar. Magnetic.
Click, zither, crackle, white noise. Talking across the top of it. A tumble…
The tide was going out, but we didn’t hear it.
I remember riding home, and feeling some sort of presence in the trees following me. It seemed to be jumping from tree to tree, and was circular in form. Was it a guardian?
Spectral voices in the echoes. Metallic forks ring out.
The string is bowed R-L, L-R. It bounces too, from ear to ear.
Air passing with the cars seems to get lost in a glitch. Wavering air, like a stutter.
We recorded the waning tide.
A high tone, and a flute blowing.
Motorbike mumbling, thinking about voices through the water once again, I only know what this is about because I was involved in the moment. High signalling. ‘Shing-shing’ sounds finishing, and I don’t recall what was making this sound. Pebbles. A moon blanket.
I don’t remember the state of the moon, some form of gibbous?
I’ve got some sort of image of a teeth/lamp form, we are playing to it, it needs to make some sort of decision about the night.
Traffic ring lake forms.
Synchronising ears is irrelevant to the night.
It’s like a fragmented waltz.
Air passes through cylinders again. The flute joins the mourning in the night.
A bat with flute nostrils.
Embarrassed, out of practice. Timid flute, like slightly colourful air.
Some notes join the condensation. A long tail of reverb disguises my imperfections. It’s comforting to have a tail.
I recall a tree looking like a large glove as though it was the hand of the water rising up vertically for us to shake it — this was how we were able to talk through the water (by shaking the tree).
Alexandra plays the flute, and 100 thoughts scatter every which way, sliding along the rocks to go to sleep in the water.
A code of tones sounds from the flutes. Communicating with past, and present, and future.
A different kind of cylinder is spoken through.
The water bugs are more active now, perhaps they scramble as the tide goes out.
Reverse sleepwalker.
A scramble through mud.
Just night, a single scrape, few pebbles, two tones, loop, pebble, loop, splash, tones, pebble, repetitions that shed.
Pebbles are the currency of the night.
The flute pierces. Maybe they scramble to hide from the flute, as it bounces out from the tunnel, like a stone tossed into the water. A soft tape loop clicks, sticks are cracking.
The traffic is waning with the tide. Was the moon also waning?
A big car passes, announcing itself like a foghorn.
Meanwhile underwater bubbles are buzzing through the mud, and rocks are tumbling, propelled from fingertips into the canal.
Two tones, and the soft tape hiss, and the warm tyres passing across tarmac at speed. The traffic gets louder, a crescendo (I don’t use that word much these days).
Whistling, plucking, metal strings, and soft branches grazing my body, your body, the body of the tree?
Two tones still, waxing, waning. The wailing bounces around the tunnel, which is really a bridge across the canal.
Indiscernible mumbles, under breath. Beneath the traffic canopy. Did you say something about coffee? Is wailing always so mournful? Do pelicans mourn?
Under breath, MP is singing with the tones, and twigs are being snapped.
Hard to know which way is front and which is back, constantly moving. Sweeping, rolling, glass — a bottle? We drank some stout from glass bottles. MP whispering under breath this time, hard to catch
to talk through…
…something through the wind.
Wood snaps, a light sound, bright, yellow, but the night is dark, I remember that much. I felt spooked that evening.
Wood snaps, strings bend. When I blow the pitch pipe, and close my teeth together the sound seems to vibrate within my ear itself.
Two pelicans approached. I imagined their feet propelling like tiny motors. They moved very fast, I felt intimidated, I think you did too. They were unsettling.
Our only company. Two pelicans on the water, and a pitch pipe to close that thought.
A siren passes, the wind is whirly.
Splash in the water. Retrieving the hydrophones, not very nimble on the rocks. I nearly fall in, my shoes still muddy. An absent sense of balance that night.
Traffic waxing, where is everyone going? Home? It’s late. It’s lockdown.
Knocking wood, still a yellowish tone, but maybe tinged with green too this time — murkier.
Tones, and pipe notes fading. We get quiet, a stick traverses the ground. The traffic gets quiet too.
3, 2, 1.
A bridge.
River rails, preparation shuffles.
We are almost sailing, a low motor.
Distance is trickling, a creature, a shell glides against another, left ear, right ear.
Tin clinking.
Hammering the bridge into place, entering it to the night register.
Shells again.
There is a plink in the water; did MP throw a pebble? Did Alexandra? Did a fish throw a pebble at us?
There is a building rhythm, something hitting the handrail repetitively, bird song brings melody, handrail rhythm as bells tinkle against each other in my palm.
Is it hammering or a type of coding?
The wind blusters, this time right to left, another pebble from the fish.
Gravelly sounds, a cymbal being bowed, the night bird is still calling.
Someone told me that birds call at night in cities because streetlamps confuse their distinction between day and night.
Maybe the night is testing us, giving us birds to create a confusion about the dawn.
The bird and cymbal combination are the key to the code, a way to access the data, the night data stored in the bridge.
The rhythm is still being tapped on the handrail.
A sound I can’t discern, growly, but also stringy, it sounds like a shrill bird call, but I remember now that it was the sound of the metal bars on the bridge being bowed, I bowed the bridge for ages. Vibrations and tones. My basic bowing ability led to mysterious results each time.
Higher tones float through the air, amidst the bowing.
There are some footsteps, the shrill bridge bow squeals.
Tonal character.
And the distinction between night and day?
Different temperaments.
There is quite a bit of wind, always in one ear, then the other, never both sides at once, I don’t remember it being windy, I do remember feeling quite cold, so cold that I hurried the ending of the second piece so we could leave sooner.
Water-trickles sound like daytime but the repetitive tapping on the handrail makes me sure it’s the night time.
Thoughts about how the sounds could bounce across the water, the surface of the river as a trampoline, maybe certain sounds could form a thin film-like material that sits on the surface of the river, a little trampoline for other sounds to spring off from.
Grating metal sounds, like a motor, quite loud, all at once, a cymbal, the metal bridge, the bells, the shells, the casuarina needles all coalescing into one vibrating body, a metallic horn, hammering, river speak, motorik, shaving, ingesting, procession, medicine.
The bridge is a membrane, some things pass through, like the sand I collect from the shore, and the tree needles, others don’t. MP and Alexandra for instance, are too large to pass through the membrane.
I recall thinking about the texture of the bridge, and wanting to trace it, but this seemed impossible, and it made me think of the inside of a tiger or a large cat’s mouth for some reason.
The birds are still calling, or are they bats now?
A tape loop plays, I’m not sure if the night wanted us tonight, it seems absent, maybe we ask too much of it?
Pine needles, pine tree, I say, though it was actually a casuarina tree — somehow the distinction got confused in the night time.
And a handful of sand.
Sand is hard to carry, it’s slippery, something slips through the bridge, or falls over the edge into the river, things hidden in the trees, something obvious in their angles, in handfuls.
It makes a plop sound upon entry into the river, a trickle of small items falling through the river follow with plip sounds. I collected a handful of small rocks, large twigs and seed pods.
MP is whispering, but it’s hard to discern words, because he is simultaneously playing the sanxian.
A small percussion set occurs on top of the cymbal, with a transducer taped to a bell, sitting in a shell, it sounds highly metallic and very vibratory — navigation coming apart.
Afterwards it seems to resonate down the bridge and across the river, the soundwaves carrying the melody on the wind into the distance, the tape loop is still cycling, the cymbal solo re-joins.
Still bird call.
Bat call.
I think a spinning top is spinning around a tin tape reel container.
I got this wooden spinning top when I was a kid.
Shaped like a ballerina.
This is how I imagine the sounds once they hit the trampoline surface and bounce off it.
Muffled wind instrument, blowing surface splashing, so it can get lost.
I remember getting lost for a whole day when I was a teenager somewhere along the Nepean River, I found a pelican colony.
I remember getting lost when I was a small child in a shopping centre, and was found hiding underneath the shelves of appliances.
There’s a chip packet floating under the bridge.
A string on the sanxian is bowed (or maybe e-bowed)—durational —it calms me.
There is the held tone, the bird call, the sound of shrimps crackling in the river and the tape loop cycling in the distance, I pick it up, and click it off.
A different code is now softly emerging, an exit sequence?
Still bat call.
Some distant traffic, and very soft sounds, dragging a bow, metal ricochets, you say something about the bridge, I don’t catch it, I’m too busy snaking the bow along the handrail, the handrail starts to sound like a deep double bass, screechy highs, a marble rolls, metal winds up, the bowing gets shrill, right, left, right, it feels exciting, it sounds almost like a saxophone, the gritty timbre, harmonics breaking, reaching some unknown space, so many tones of metal, a squeak like a pipe being blown, sanxian strings plucked, notes bending, others are breaking, squeaks, scrapes, hoots, tinkles, bouncy, held metal, stopped resonance, dulled metal, rolling, and bowing in circles around my head.
A halo of grit and breakage.
ASMR textural — it feels physical.
Metal grinding, ripping, crawling.
But pleasurable, not too violent.
There’s a pause, I notice the birds again.
Earlier, a train passed, and the birds became raucous, now the metal sounds raucous.
Something distorting, getting really big, it stops, and I whistle.
Or you whistle.
Or the birds whistle.
Or the wind?
And something deeper taps, the whistle seems to carry on the wind, my present whistle in harmony with my past whistle.
A long string instrument that extends from the bridge in both directions, voices dangle from it, and as the sounds trampoline off the surface of the river, they hit some of the voices making them drop into the river, but there is no splash.
Loud clunks on the cymbal, somewhere sniffing, a pelican passes beneath the bridge, it felt important (but I had forgotten).
I’m picking up these fuzzy seed pods to throw into the river, and a large rock too.
Biofeedback. Seedback?
Feedback right ear, shuffling left ear.
Talking, harsh exhales, MP says something about hearing the trees come true, and trying to banish it.
Resonant metal sounds nostalgic.
Would you like a rock?
Thank you.
Things are sent to the surface, but nothing bounces, and nothing floats, and nothing sinks.
Slippery watery sounds.
Are we tossing the rocks?
Please, please.
Tap tap tap tap tap.
Left ear scrapes.
The nostalgic metal has been captured on a playback device.
Escaping, flattering, opening, strung out deeper than the night, winding wind, whistling toad, ballroom dancing, baroque table setting, fog, cinders, porcelain, pelicans, mango, mushrooms, a valley, cat statuettes winking, Roy Orbison, a fraction.
Centred cymbal scrapes grow louder.
Tap tap tap tap tap.
Left ear resonant bowing.
Rocks drop through the holes in the bridge, through the membrane, into the river.
I start thinking about the floating chip packet again.
And the fish.
Are they bothered by the noise?
Nibbling on the hydrophone recording.
Something large falls into the river.
The birds seem to get louder, calling to each other, one bank to the other, left side, right side, there is a drone (not from us) underwater, there often seems to be twigs snapping in my ears, sounds like a feeling, feels nice, the comfort of the bridge and the night.
Metal bells rolling in my palm, I bought these, overpriced from a market.
Slithering underwater, is there a fish stroking the microphone?
The reel case falls to the ground, spinning until it settles, a high pitched tone — someone walks away.
Harmony from the sanxian sounds nice, it’s been a long time since we had melody, a stringy melody, two tones.
Up down, again, slide.
I think the night is just reluctant, and not totally refusing us.
I feel it is the bridge that is the one who is refusing us, not the night.
We come to terms with this at the very end. A gentle agreement.
Should we switch off?
I think so, that’s what I was thinking.
We’ll try, and stop it at the same time.
Will you count us in, count us out rather?
10, 1, 7, stop.
I think so, that’s what I was thinking.
Should we switch off?
I think so, that’s what I was thinking.
We’ll try, and stop it at the same time.
We’ll try, and stop it at the same time, we’ll try, and stop it at the same time.
10, 1.
Will you count us in, rather count us out?
10, 1, 10, 1, 7.
An oval.
The gate was open, we didn’t have to jump.
Setting up to the sound of a ticking insect voice and rattling, bounce advice and some forking.
It was a quiet night, the first day of daylight savings; lighter longer, easier to stay awake.
There were fluorescent lights, a collection of empty beer cans, and a little pointy device, used to deter pigeons that had fallen to the floor.
‘Cool, cool,’ giggle, crickets, feedback.
Three types of rattling in conversation with feedback.
Something bouncy sounds like a toy spring or rattle and tuning forks struck, ring out. A small rhythm vibrating on a metallic surface.
Measurements of wood, tin, and plastics.
Swaying rhythm plucks the space, measurements are bouncing.
We batted a ping-pong ball around the grandstand seating (calling to the cats).
Slide rolling roller sliding static seeding scanning the dial the night’s tongue flapping.
A spring bouncing amongst gentle radio static. Another La Niña.
Alexandra says it smells like grass, what does static smell like?
Static is tearing small holes in the grandstand’s spatiality.
A broken whistling marks the edges, and departs by diving off from each end.
Tape delay echoes sound eerie. There are cockroaches in the corner.
A ping-pong mapping, thresholds of roaches and squashed tins.
It bounces violently down the raked seating, MP crunches the empty beer cans underfoot. Gentle destruction.
Tonight we are playing a game with the night, a ball game, there are no sirens, only whistles descending, tap-tap movements in the stands, and an empty oval, it is an old game.
Percussion drafting.
I remember a piece of the entry gate to the grandstand was lying on the floor. Wooden, not flat, I stood atop it, rocking back, and forth. Wooden sounds meld into metallic. I’m not sure any more.
An assessment of the structure from Alexandra, strings are almost awake, the floor plan is slowly being swept away by the strings, and the whistling and the gentle wooden knocking.
I tap out some rhythms on the fence. The wooden looking poles are metal. Constantly shifting material — shapes of things — are not what they seem.
We imagine a performance where intersecting performers are roaming the oval whilst we play the grandstand. Sometimes strings seem to play themselves out of the game.
Strings are bowed, paper dragged, cardboard maybe, something thicker, grazing the floor, shuffling cardboard.
One string plucked, crickets. Tape delay echoes, the appearance of reverb.
Alexandra is describing, it is not clear what about, but the oval is involved.
I’m looking at the blank scoreboard of the oval at Pratten Park. I’m not sure if it’s used for games, but they’ve got the infrastructure. There’s the shape of a man, wearing white, walking around the outskirts of the oval. They walk to the right, when they get to the scoreboard, they pause. Now they’re walking back to the left.
Industry, soaring, metallic work, sweeping, page-turning, white gloss, black screens, cups, cupping, rolling, distance has been wound into the railing.
Sounds like clutter, something high pitched, struck and dazzling.
Suddenly it is very active in sound; a strong atmosphere surrounding us in the grandstand.
I hear people talking, objects bustling, an airplane overhead, but I don’t think it is. I think it’s just the sound of a rock grazing the surface of the floor.
I’m remembering driving down the mountains one evening through fog, and how everything seemed so otherworldly. Every light was a world, every tree a familiar.
Dragging, grazing, material meeting other material.
Forks, childhood kitchen, orange, and brown lino, copper art, appliances, becoming mute, crooked hands, the loudest eyes.
Marbles spinning in someone’s hand, no, the rocks again, against each other now.
Tuning forks, struck against each other, a tape player button pressed, I think it was ‘stop’.
I remember rubbing rock against rock, and enjoying it. Hitting the tuning fork to the wooden floor, because the vibrations expanded.
If I stroke or scrape… The problem with tapping is that it always has a rhythm.
A cat appears behind MP. An apparition. A visitor. Arriving so softly from the air.
We discussed this visit, and it brought laughter, from all angles, and transition, and now someone is yelling, and MP can hear things that are not really there.
And a dog, there is a dog.
It’s that thing. That cat was so cute. I can’t believe that was twenty minutes.
Shuffle, movement. Flute and strings people.
Footsteps on the floor, comforting somehow, company.
The monochord is bowed lightly, bouncing strokes, comforting somehow.
Squashing beer cans found in the grandstand — an offering to the night. Crushing cans, and flutes working as one.
I don’t really know how to play it, but I love to play it.
Just notes, 1, 2, up, down, then doubled notes, 1, 1, 2, 2. Sometimes it’s a good way in, to not know.
Fingers light on the strings, gently plucking, clicking. Gently blowing on the flute, while a car alarm sounds in the background. It sounds like two alarms, one cyclical and one beep-boop, beep-boop repetition.
Where I am sitting doing this transcription, there are two lights above me flickering on and off, and it seems part of the recording. A morse code triggered by the flute sounds, marking out a space here, and now for the gone space of the grandstand to re-emerge in.
The evening is starting to sound mystical. This always happens. Deep nights are liminal zones.
A tape is placed in the cassette player by you or me, or both
A lost trumpet, an alarm tempo, a lost snare drum, a found play button, a returning flute, leaving static.
The night is getting what it needs from us.
Rolling something against another thing in my palm.
A plane passes overhead.
A glorious contact of stone, wood, magnetic tape, tin, flash, memory, breath, bodies, bone, pens, papers, keyboards, letters, ears — is this a formula?
I saw a white cat in the distance, running across the grass. Someone told me the grass in this park is of special quality, that it was collected, carried, transplanted from another park.
Feedback as you or I touch ears.
Ear shaving, finger exercises.
Crying in bed.
A jolt more severe than a winter’s swim.
The rolling in my palm continues. And now there is a rolling of an object across the surface of the floor — it sounds deep and wooden.
Scraping the perimeter, a dominating tracing, an internal unwinding, the mapping has gone all interior, something like a real time memory loss is occurring.
The night time is stirred. The stirring stops, the tape plays in tune with the night aura.
Cats, symbols, ivory, coastline, plastics, phones, ferry.
Every now and then there is a sensor light in the distance that flicks on, but there’s no one there…
Just the cats with the special interest in sound poetry.
Alexandra speaks with/through a drone, a glorious metallic shift in atmosphere, a patient exhaling, a low-pressure system in hand, a gesture of anointing hiss from shoulder to shoulder.
Two tones pulsate, I start to play the small Chinese gong.
MP is saying something low, a low kind of talking.
Bread on the ground, and a large box of matches, some IPAs.
The tape melody, and the gong together, simple, gentle.
This play is sparse, gentle, small-dark-night-cat friendly.
You say something, but I don’t hear. Warm tones in the shape of words tumbling over teeth and lips and tongues with breath.
Near bread.
A hearing test a test yeah yep that way it’s not so strange you can’t hear cause you can hear it a speculation on how to go straight to the brain.
Vibrations yeah, even on the peak, yeah, is it still working? Even on the peak of the hat, is it still working?
We discussed hearing tests. Are these night walks some sort of hearing test for the night?
Numbers, feeling, aloneness, definite hearing, deafness, talking to ourselves in eight voices, texture, gesture, and placement.
There’s no bone in the nose, this is so strange, it’s like you can’t hear it, straight to the brain, in the middle of your forehead.
A direct line from the night to the brain through forks.
Oh it’s that too.
Two tones pulsating.
Footsteps inverting.


MP Hopkins is an artist based in Sydney, Australia, that is concerned with how to record voices that are not really there, and ways to make voices that are there not sound like voices. He makes audio recordings, performances, and texts.

Alexandra Spence is an artist and musician living on Gadigal country in Sydney, Australia. She makes installations, compositions and performances based on (everyday) sound and listening. Through her practice she attempts to reimagine the intricate relationships between the listener, the object, and the surrounding environment as a kind of communion or conversation. She has a current, near-spiritual, obsession with the animation of material and object through sound. Alex has performed and presented work on radio, in concerts, festivals, symposiums and galleries worldwide, and has two releases: Waking, She Heard The Fluttering, with Room40, and Immaterial, with Longform Editions.

Editor/s Liang Luscombe


    Disclaimer is a journal for new thinking and writing on listening and sound. Published by Liquid ArchitectureDisclaimer is a journal for new thinking and writing on listening and sound. Published by Liquid Architecture
    Disclaimer is a journal for new thinking and writing on listening and sound. Published by Liquid Architecture • Disclaimer is a journal for new thinking and writing on listening and sound. Published by Liquid Architecture
    Score: Natasha Tontey ‘Church of Xenoglossia’, 2019