The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

This is an archive of works sent by Alan Sondheim to various mailing lists. The most recent messages (also available as an Atom feed) are below.

Browse by year: 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012

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If you have any comments, please contact Decklin Foster, who runs this site.


Of Housing


http://www.alansondheim.org/housing.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/housing2.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/housing.mp3 solo hasapi

finding a home in memory [where we grew up, images from google
maps, the tree and front entrance to the kitchen are already gone;
the tree was one of the oldest in the town] a situation or an
unknown situation [trying to find a home for melody on hasapi,
it's already gone by the time i arrive]

I remember we always liked the trees, the one in the back seemed to
grow up with us. When my parents grew older, they stopped caring so
much; finally a year or so ago my brother and I insisted that the
growth be cut back to avoid misery in the neighborhood; there was
always the chance of something falling on one or another building.
The hedgerow of pines had to go; they were dead from disease. It's
as if the soil itself rebelled against growth in the area. The
skunks and possums went and the rabbits were gone for a long time,
too. Now some of the rabbits are back, that's all. No more hawks,
we didn't see herons either or any of the other visitors. But then
we weren't looking either. Google's maps are memories, perfect for
archives I think, the details blurred as if you were looking at
things through cataracts. Technology will never catch up with the
singularity of a one-to-one map; that doesn't matter very much. It
doesn't matter that animals and plants disappear, that corrupted
form is the result of form corrupting; there are always new plants
and animals around the corner, and these images, for that matter,
this music, are nothing but digital spews, hardly carrying the
meat of anything, much less the world they were extruded from. We
are always already replacements, and probably always already have
been. The pain we leave behind, the pain within us, is inextricable
and lies outside any map or territory; the world shatters, shutters
and devolves. Almost no one will read this, and it's more likely to
be processed by a bot or spider than a human or other consciousness
moved, if only for a second, by the increasing tawdriness of our
world, slipping vastly into the digital, no body, our bodies, left
behind.

Twin Peaks for David Lynch.


http://www.alansondheim.org/twinpeaks.mp3

Mr Lynch:

Just as Twin Peaks is your Masterpiece, twinpeaks.mp3 is my Masterpiece.

Please listen with earphone and wavefile upon request. Solo cobza for
David Lynch.

Thank you. Alan Sondheim.

musical phenomenology of failed philosophical discourse otherwise

http://www.alansondheim.org/kingsmarch.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/queensmarch.mp3

solo cobza enveloping, encompassing, the entire history,
phenomenology, and philosophy of gender relations among
european or euro-descended peoples (also interesting music)

Performance

http://www.alansondheim.org/performance.mp4

Millimeters to go before I sleep


"Hi,

I have checked the stats of your account and can found that there is no
hacking issues with your account. But the majority of the bandwidth was
used by downloading the mp4/mp3/mov and jpg files on your account - along
with spiders/bots used 112 GB of the bandwidth for this month so far. And
of course, you are getting hits to those media files from almost around
the world including the regions you specified on the tickets.

You can either use hot link protection for the media files - to deny
hotlinking of files and can use robots.txt file to deny unwanted bots from
accessing your account."

China continues to grow, but Poland has greater bandwidth. China wins on
the number of hits. The US is pathetic, way behind; European Countries
have a greater bandwidth than the US has pages. Germany and Great Britain
are "looking around." Everything else is miniscule; except for slight
blips from Germany and the Russian Federation, the world is quiet. So many
others register close to emptiness! Indonesia has zero pages but two
hundred hits; a huge 2.32 gigabytes were downloaded. Thailand comes in for
661.83 megabytes and 57 hits, not a page among them. The haven of Estonia
registers a full 1.45 gigabytes, 73 hits, and zero pages. I wonder what
they're enjoying. Ethiopia - one page, one hit, 7.13 kilobytes, oddly
matched by Croatia - 1, 1, 7.13. Under "others" - i.e. "not countries" -
there are 0 pages, 0 hits, and a mysterious 88 gigabytes.

NO ONE SPENT OVER AN HOUR AT THE SITE, and only ONE PERSON 30-60 min, TWO
PEOPLE 15-30 min. Ah how beautiful it would be to have copies of my site,
like flowers, everywhere! But most of my visits - 592 in fact - dashed in
and out, under 30 seconds, nothing there but a directory. Only 14 spent
over five minutes, which means just about no one looked at the .mp4s for
any length of time, much less downloaded any of them. My work must count
for something, but it truly strikes out: it's the robots and spiders who
absorb my silliness and will soon take over the world...

Cobza redux for Maria Damon


I traded back for the cobza today, and it sounds great! I'm using
techniques from pipa and oud. by the way, there are a lot of
traditional cobza solos and ensemble-playing on YouTube now; when
I started with the instrument, there was almost nothing.

cob0 is a straight recording. my cobza has ten metal strings tuned
with pegs; towards the very end, you can hear one of the courses
has gone out of tune. I've learned to avoid them; I finish on the
other three. (here, the cobza's tuning is eee' aa dd gg; the 2nd
a went out, so I ended up on eee' dd and gg. note that the tuning
is 3 4ths; it's not actually tuned to eee' etc. pitch.)

cob1 is recorded with highly altered echo and post-production
with high hiss-elimination. I had to play slowly, in order that
the harmonic 'bell-tones' come through.

http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/cob0.mp3
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/cob1.mp3

playing the cobza:

cobza http://www.alansondheim.org/alan1.jpg

(if the files don't open properly, go to
http://lounge.espdisk.com/archives/776 - thanks, Alan)

---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Tue, 24 Jan 2012 13:22:24
From: Humane Society of the United States <humanesociety@hsus.org>
To: sondheim@panix.com
Subject: Help stop captive trophy hunting in New York

Urge your state assemblymember and state senator to vote YES on A. 4475/S.
6154>>
Trouble with links or images? View this message online.
Humane Action
Humane Action
 
 
January 24, 2012
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                              Stop Canned Shoots

Dear Alan,

Your legislators are considering a bill that would ban captive shoots for
exotic animals in New York. Captive shooting operations, or "canned shoots,"
are private trophy hunting facilities that offer their customers the
opportunity to kill semi-tame animals trapped within enclosures. The animals
have no chance of escape, and the customers are guaranteed a kill.

Please make a brief, polite phone call today to your state assemblymember,
Hakeem Jeffries (518) 455-5325 , and state senator, Velmanette Montgomery
(518) 455-3451 , urging support for A. 4475/S. 6154. And don't forget to
send a follow-up message. Thank you for all you do for animals.
Wayne Pacelle
Wayne Pacelle, President & CEO

line
Humane Action

A BETTER LIFE

Bipartisan legislation was just introduced in Congress to improve the lives
of hundreds of millions of egg-laying hens. Tell your legislators to support
H.R. 3798, the Egg Products Inspection Act Amendments of 2012. Take action>>

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Explore a weekend for animals! Registration is now open for the most
effective animal advocacy conference in the nation -- Taking Action for
Animals, July 27-30, in DC. Learn more>>

Humane Action

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Years after his death, one dog's amazing spirit continues to inspire. His
video story still gets 3,000 views a day. See why>>

 
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playing together

http://lounge.espdisk.com/archives/773

or

http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/sess1m.mp3 (mono)
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/sess2m.mp3 (mono)
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/sess4m.mp3 (mono)
http://espdisk.com/alansondheim/sess5m.mp3 (mono)

Chris Funkhauser, flute
Chris Diasparra, baritone
Azure Carter, voice and songs
Alan Sondheim, saz, oud, pipa

Angelic


Azure Carter, song and voice, Maya Maya, and saz

http://www.alansondheim.org/angelic1.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/angelic1.wav (slightly better quality)

I think I'm happiest with this rendition of Maya, which owes
something to the Cocteau Twins, cathedrals, the Grand Canyon,
the Cayman Islands, tourmaline, Eyebeam, and Ackermann's
Repository. When I can sink into music, when music envelops me
like an uncanny dwelling moving among the worlds, I'm sublime,
content, and there are rooms open in each of the ten directions.

And saz

http://www.alansondheim.org/angelic2.mp3

Deconstructing the apparatus, allowing muscle and body to turn
back via the back door of the instrumental.


==================================================================


Broken Angel

http://www.alansondheim.org/borr.mp4

debris located in the corners of the hard-drive,
where three vectors meet and dissolve, as if there
were a spherical geometry at work, or topology
dissolving within the field of the image: something
crashed and slid across the screen, the file no
longer carrying the random access of truth, and
therefore of great or greater interest, than as if
the screen appeared a featureless window or cloud
containing not just the simulacrum of the real, but
that corner of the real itself, within the sectors
of the hard drive, where three vectors meet and
dissolve, as if there were

Angels

[apologies for resending - had to change urls; the others were
faulty in the Chrome browser]

http://www.alansondheim.org/angels1.mp3 (mono)
http://www.alansondheim.org/angels2.mp3 (stereo)
http://www.alansondheim.org/angels3.mp3 (stereo)

http://www.alansondheim.org/angels1.wav (mono)
http://www.alansondheim.org/angels2.wav (stereo)
http://www.alansondheim.org/angels3.wav (stereo)


I imagine the voices of angels singing precisely like this.
Their voices expand and fill multiverses, lifeless and alive, alike.
Their beauty is uncanny and every note encircles worlds upon worlds.
As long as I surprise myself with unknown communicants, I continue.
Angels, you have given me life for a night of beauty and mystery.
Angels, we have given you our love, the terrible love of all things
alive, as well.

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