This, now. (2023)

I remember listening to records with friends, beginning to end, as events in themselves. Listening together made us see things differently, with more insight, with more generosity. It bound us to each other as our perspectives and paradigms transformed, as we grew together, and as we grew up.

I released the album War Footing in September 2022. In building an installation around it, I wanted to create and offer a space that might encourage the same quality of attention and excitement, and the same potential for collective experience and closeness. The album plays, and the software listens. Or I play in the space, and the software listens. It also responds, moving through, and transforming, video that I shot of places and objects of deep significance to the album, and to me. These visual transformations will never happen the same way twice. Not even close. Here is one of an infinite (ish) number of possible realizations.

It might draw you into a sense of curiosity about how the software listens, what it identifies as important, and how those features drive the visual response. Which might, in turn, draw you into a sense of curiosity about how you listen, how listening grants access to your own places and objects of significance, and how music might bring them into the present moment, animate them, even transform them into sources of light.