31/12/23 - Cloud shadows
(From my creative process journal…)
When I was up at my “overlooking Grose Valley” spot nearly 2 weeks ago one of the things that was fascinating and delightful and also kind of trippy was the shadows of the clouds on the valley below my spot. They moved slowly and rippled across the treetops, and sitting where I was sort of felt like I was treading water and looking at the sea floor as something huge passed over. Sort of floating and suspended, maybe also like a cloud. Looking at it sort of made me feel like I was floating too. At least that’s my memory of it now. And also I felt small, very small. The light was quite bright mostly, but also hazy. It was a slow and surreal day, but I guess also up there it’s always kind of surreal. One of those hot and still days, with some heat shimmer. Maybe the heat shimmer contributed to the underwater vibe.
Anyway, the other day I improvised on the trumpet on the idea of the cloud shadows, and all of the above. The I transcribed it yesterday. That was tedious. Also I had to funnel the notes into specific rhythms when the recording got a bit ambiguous and I don’t love doing that, “taming notes” into notation, but it’s ok – I’m not doing this so that the improvisation stays perfectly the same. I’ve just been adapting it and trimming it, and I need to actually try playing it (can’t now, it’s late).
The music is languid and twisty, atonal but maybe with a sort of creeping unintentional tonality. There’s a bit of a motif, which is just a downward movement of a tone or a semitone, where it usually hangs out on the lower pitch. It’s usually a crotchet to something at least 2 beats long. The piece starts that way, with an A to a G. Also the original improvisation didn’t have a real time sig but often it felt a bit like it was in 3. It’s kind of an oceany time signature anyway. So it meanders around and I gave it more space in my edits tonight. The motif sort of makes you notice it when it happens, like the first part of the piece introduces it so clearly and with enough repetitions that you sort of keep hearing it when it returns in other ways, and it’s only 2 notes so it could be hidden but I don’t think it is. I was certainly aware of it when I was improvising.
The overall sound is interesting. It’s not a happy song, but I’m not really about happy. I can do sort of blissful wistful and wonderment which I guess this could have been. But it’s mostly just a slow and winding strange thing. I need to hear it on trumpet again because there’s a lot of expression that needs to go with it.
And what is it about, other than the clouds and the shadows and the underwater feeling? In terms of Indigenous knowledges I mean. I don’t really know, and I’m wary of searching too hard for something to attach it to, as I sit here at home on my beanbag, and I can’t even see the sky as the blinds are down. It does say something about immersion I think. About feeling small, and in awe, and leaning into a trippy feeling/perception. Maybe also the plague soldier beetles contributed to the feeling of being underwater, as they seemed to largely be getting swept around by the wind. Like krill.
But also maybe… it’s more subtle this time. In a way. Behind the intention. The fact that this is my 3rd visit to this spot, and I’ve been up that way several times over the past few years, is part of a methodology which is about getting to know Country by just being there. I’m also doing the “passive research” thing. I don’t go there with specific questions, it’s more about “what’s Country going to show me today?” Is that too me-centric? Maybe “what’s Country doing and saying today?” And I observe and take it in and ponder it and experience it. And maybe later it will gain more meaning. I’m sure it will actually, along with other pieces I’ve written/am writing.
The intention is for this to be a solo trumpet piece but I also think it could be interesting as a piece for Underwards or Alloy, maybe both somehow. I sometimes think about writing long rambling melodies as another way of getting out of predictability, particularly in terms of structure. This could be that, although I reckon I’d insert impro space, and pass the main melody around, for an ensemble. I also like the idea of writing a piece which could be picked up and played using various different instrumentations. I think, in order to figure out how that could be done, I need to find score examples, and just have a good ole imagining session. Graphic notation could be the go, or maybe some sort of hybrid thing. I guess a lot of graphic notation has elements of “traditional” notation though. Maybe this is something I can try imagining when I’m out in Ganguddy in a week.