PICTURES FROM EXILE
'Did you know that greek language didn't have a word for "blue" in Homer's time? According to him, the greek ships sailed "the wine-dark seas". Think of this factoid as your doorbell ringing. Think of these words as the note that comes with the baby that I left at your doorstep. Think of these pictures as that blissfully unaware baby. It's gonna be alright.
'When I was a kid I spontaneously came up with this thought experiment: if I pointed to, say, a red toy car, how could I be sure that people around me saw the exact same thing I was seeing? It could be blue to them and they simply called that color "red" and we would be stuck in this situation in which we thought we agreed but didn't. This wouldn't be a problem if we needed to be sure which toy car we meant in a conversation but it made it impossible for me to communicate my own experience of what the toy car looks like and to understand other people's. Furthermore, there was no way to solve this problem by talking about it because the tools that we use to adress the problem - words - were already part of the problem.
'I have been living abroad for several years now. Only occasionally do I understand the language spoken by the people around me in my daily life. We use English, a second language to both parties, and communication tends to stick to pragmatics. I feel trapped inside the golden cage that is the outsider's position: I am allowed the priviledge of detached observation but I have no meaningful way of sharing it with nuance. I feel like Wittgenstein's lion.
'I like words. 10-year old me liked them too and already figured out how they worked. Seeing them as this very ambitious attempt at bridging the gap between ourselves has since endeared their shortcomings to me. Language works as long as we don't realize it actually doesn't, like the cartoon coyote that only starts falling when he realizes he's walking on air. Surrendering our individual experiences to the communal purpose of being able to partially communicating them may be one of the most beautiful skills we have.
'I guess what I'm trying to say is that any language will always be a "second language". We are both narrator and audience of our stories, we are always shaping what we want to say to fit into the understanding we expect it to meet. The foreigner's experience is different from everyone else's only in scale, not in nature. We are all foreigners.
'Even if you don't buy into all this, let's just say that I got used to appreciating a certain wordlessness. Let me give you an example: I can either take one photo of a building and tell you what I like about it or I can show you all the photos that I took of that building because I like it so much and say nothing. My point is not that one is better than the other, it's just that the latter option is closer to my experience than the former. I would rather have you uncertain of what my obvious obsession withsaid building means than relying on your understanding of the clearly exposed reasons for my liking. I would even go as far as saying that technology is only useful if it relieves us from unnecessary work and that, in this sense, using the internet to send you one picture when I could send you 500 is the same as driving an airplane on a highway, but I digress. Anyway, experience unmediated by language is as much part of my everyday life as what these pictures actually show. The medium is the message.
'When you cut out the middle man, all you're left alone with is the rubbing of the world against the senses. No meanings to convey and no points to make, just the agreeability of its textures mapping out your course. This illusion of constant improvement-bound movement is what I ultimately want to share without bargaining with a second-guessed "you". Direction instead of destination.
'My consolation for dragging you through this overlong text is its underlying paradox: I'm explaining why I prefer to show than to explain, I'm using words to tell you why I would prefer not to use them. You, my friend, are watching a text arguing against itself. Trust, however, that the more useless these words become, the more grateful I feel for your attention.'
credits
from Sayings | Adventskalender 2021,
track released May 17, 2021
"Abba Antwni" is the name of a circumstance: me - António Duarte - playing an improvised piece of music, using exclusively an electric guitar as sound source and routing its signal through an array of digital and analog effects, including live-recorded cassette tape loops. This music only exists while you hear it, as you hear it. The moment is kept intact: no pre-recorded elements are utilized nor is any overdubbing added.
"Sayings" is the name of the recorded output. This particular track was recorded in Oslo, on the 25th of April 2021.
All the related artwork - text, pictures and video - is captured and/or made by me.
DC experimental duo Requiem and UK cellist Simon McCorry make ambient psychedelia together that traffics in subtlety rather than bombast. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 27, 2021
Floating vocals and gentle, off-kilter drums anchor these expansive ambient soundscapes from Ecuadorian producer Paula Acuña. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 7, 2018
This Chicago (where else?) post-rock group builds wafting atmospheric ambient out of slow drums and a shimmering churn of droning guitars. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 30, 2024
58918012’s hatred of piano inspired him to build an entire album around the instrument—which, ironically, led to gorgeous music. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 22, 2023
Beautifully hushed compositions employ ambient keys, tender acoustic guitars, and atmospherics in songs that reflect on the last year. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 22, 2021
