LIVE @ RADIO  REVOLTEN     
You can't make a painting without breaking eggs!  JOHN BISSET, 1997


Chris Weaver hat sich verpflichtet, via Kontaktmikrofone die Geräusche von der Leinwand abzunehmen, während Sarah Washington versuchen wird, mit Hilfe ihres brandneuen OP-1 die übertragenden Radiokunst-Installationen in den unterliegenden Stockwerken einzufangen... und ja, Caroline Kraabel war schnell dafür zu haben, sich mit ihrem Saxophon einzumischen.


Man könnte es für eine der typischen Londoner freien Improvisationssessions halten, tatsächlich aber findet das als Radiorevolte in Halle an der Saale auf UKW 99,3 und MW 1575 kHz statt. Wem das zu "old school" ist, dem sei der Livestream auf http://radiorevolten.net ans Ohr gelegt: zum dritten Mal in der Rundfunkgeschichte wird live im Radio ein Bild gemalt... für alle, die jetzt glauben, sich verlesen zu haben, nochmal kurz & knackig:

Malerei... live... im Radio? Allerdings!!
http://radiorevolten.net/de/event/marcus-heesch-live-tempera


Chris Weaver will pick up sound of painting via contact-microphones [which he sealed in revolutionary red], while Sarah Washington wants to pick up sounds from the transmitting radioart installations downstairs with her brandnew OP-1 [whatever that pretends to be]... oh, and Caroline Kraabel might involve with her saxophone.


What seems to be a London cookin' session, turns out to be a radio revolt happening in Halle in Germany. So tune in to UKW 99,3 or MW 1575 kHz, alternatively go for the livestream on http://radiorevolten.net, 'cause there is really gonna be a painting made on radio...

... and yep, it's really gonna be live!!
http://radiorevolten.net/en/event/marcus-heesch-live-tempera

FINISSAGE

Joker Nies' Omnichord




21inch



duo [annette krebs · marcus heesch]



one

ANGEZETTELT   

Interdisziplinaritäten zwischen Musik und Malerei sind diskutabel, ihre Ergebnisse in der Konsequenz erst recht. Einige deutsche improvisierende Musiker thematisieren das [besonders gerne in einem Fluxus-Kontext] theoretisch recht nachhaltig und radikal, deren britischen Kollegen eher gelassen beiläufig und sowieso nur auf Nachfrage.

Der neuralgische Punkt in der [deutschen] Diskussion liegt offenkundig in der Vergänglichkeit des Materials. Gerne wird Eric Dolphys "... after it's over, it's gone, in the air" zitiert, um sofort Vergleichbares dem visuellen Ergebnis abzuverlangen oder sowas wie interdisziplinäre Authentizität reflexhaft in Frage zu stellen. Das den Entstehungsprozeß Überdauernde scheint verdächtig.


Auf einem kleinen, interdisziplinären Festival vor 10 Jahren in der Kölner WERFT war zu beobachten, daß die meisten Maler in ihrem Arbeitsprozeß dieser Forderung gerecht wurden... einer legte gar in einem dramatischen Finale [und ja, auch die Musik wurde betont dramatisch] Feuer an sein Werk - wie spontan das gewesen sein mag, sei dahingestellt. Ironischerweise wurden die ein knappes Dutzend Festivalarbeiten anschließend für einige Zeit ausgestellt ["after it's over, it's gone, in the air"?], wobei natürlich nur zwei oder drei der Werke in einem final unversehrtem Zustand präsentiert werden konnten. Nicht, daß der Grad der Versehrt- oder Unversehrtheit ein Kriterium für Qualität wäre... da wohne man einfach mal einem Auftritt von GOKAN bei, wenn Helge Leiberg auf Folien eines Overhead-Projektors aquarelliert.


Die hier präsentierte Bildreihe deutet leicht an, was angestoßen wird, wenn vermehrt fluide Farbe [ein Schelm, wer jetzt an Fluxus denkt] zum Einsatz kommt: ein nicht zu kontrollierender Vorgang, der seine eigenen Spuren nach der Entstehung mehr oder weniger verwischt - um es präventiv gleich vorwegzunehmen, Analogien zur menschlichen Fähigkeit des Erinnerns sind rein zufällig und schon gar nicht beabsichtigt. Überhaupt: kann man machen, muß man aber nicht...

angezettelt · feat. Joker Nies, Hans Schneider · 70 cm x 125 cm

Interdisciplinarities between music and painting are something to argue about, and so are their outcomes. Some German improvising musicians like to broach the theoretical issue of that [especially in a Fluxus context] quite sustained and radically, while their British colleagues seem to prefer a rather casual comment - well, if you're insisting to make it an issue.

The focus in the [german] discussion is obviously on momentariness of process. Which is the moment, where Eric Dolphy's "... after it's over, it's gone, in the air" will be inevitably cited, followed by the bottom line that visual outcome has to mirror that, if you dare to talk "interdisciplinarity". Suspicion falls on what survives the work in progress.


At a small, interdiciplinary festival in Cologne 10 years ago you could recognize most of the painters clinging to that formula... actually one played safest and fanned the flame in a dramatic finale [yep, music too became extremely dramatic] - how spontaneous could that be? Ironicly the nearly a dozen of festival artworks were exhibited for some time ["after it's over, it's gone, in the air"?], nonetheless only two or three of them could be presented in sound condition. Well, any state of condition is not directly a sign of quality, is it? By the way, wherefore don't miss Helge Leiberg painting in watercolours on overhead-projected foils, if you get the chance.


The images here may give a slight hint on what originates with a more fluid matter [anyone for Fluxus?]: hardly a process to control, as it is slowly covering some tracks of origin, ongoing still after the interdisciplinary event. Now, this can't be the kind of unrighteous "overdub" that Ben Watson back in 2001 believed to see on the first live-tempera paintings, but how righteous can it be with no realtime to what?


If you are fond of this kind of theoretical questioning, you might like as very well this online discussion [at the point, where they slowly jammed into art issues] by mainly American improvising musicians and followers - not for the faint of heart, and thanks to Annette Krebs for the link.

FEAT. HANS SCHNEIDER   

52 cm x 39 cm

Vor fast genau 10 Jahren sind wir uns kurz vor dem gemeinsamen Auftritt in Köln das erste Mal begegnet. Er konfrontierte mich unter vier Augen ziemlich schnell, und mit einem Gesichtsausdruck, der keinen Zweifel am Ernst der Situation ließ, mit der Frage zu meinen Hörgewohnheiten. Die konnte mich eigentlich, soweit war ich mir schon gewiss, nicht in Schwierigkeiten bringen. Verunsichert war ich trotzdem... und das so ungefähr gefühlte 3 Minuten vor dem Auftritt. Warum diese Frage? "Ich habe früher oft mit bildenden Künstlern gearbeitet, leider hatten die allzu oft keine Ahnung von der improvisierten Musik. Tatsächlich haben die sich nie ernsthaft mit der Materie auseinandergesetzt."

Als man mir Wochen zuvor in Berlin mitteilte, ich würde mit Hans Schneider auftreten, hatte ich keine Ahnung. Das ist dann der Moment, in dem man sich als Bildender, der unter Verknüpfungsdefizit leidet, einfach mal bei der sich nächst bietenden Gelegenheit [in diesem Fall während einer der Veranstaltungen in Fine Kwiatkowskis Tanzatelier] ganz dumm stellt und anwesende Hardcore-Musiker fragt, ob die wüßten, mit wem man da auftreten müsse. "Hans Schneider? DER Hans Schneider?! Bist du dir sicher? Wow!! Wo hast du den ausgegraben?!" Okay, hatte verstanden: Bildungslücke! Überhaupt, mir ist des öfteren aufgefallen, daß Musiker am wenigsten ihresgleichen Komplimente machen, wenn es angebracht wäre, aber in den unerwartesten Augenblicken so richtig über den Klee springen.

Daß dieser Hans Schneider früher u.a. Bassist für Alex von Schlippenbach, Peter Brötzmann, Kenny Wheeler oder John Butcher war, kann man auch etwas detailierter hier nachverfolgen. Ich möchte nur noch wohlwollend bemerken, daß die Abbildungen auf dieser Seite Malereien des Musikers wiedergeben. Und nein, ich habe nicht die Absicht, zukünftig bei "meinen" Musiker\innen nachzuhaken, wie es mit ihren Malgewohnheiten aussieht.

Marcus Heesch
Berlin, August 2012

 

About 10 years ago we met right before the gig in Cologne for the very first time. Face to face, and serious as deadly can be, he wanted to know about my listening habits. I was quite sure, there was nothing to complain about, but still I felt a bit unsettled, as it were a few minutes to start. This question... why?! "I've worked a lot with visual artists. Regrettably they had been clueless about improvised music much too often. As a matter of fact they had never really grappled with it."

Weeks before in Berlin, when I've been told to work with Hans Schneider, I had no idea... "Who?" Well, that's the moment, when you wrap yourself in blissful ignorance and pluck up courage to have some hardcore-musicians coughing up, who the funk you're gonna have to deal with. "Hans Schneider? THE Hans Schneider?! Are you sure? Wow!! You really dug up the dude?!" So far another gap in my education! By the way I noticed many times, that musicians are delightfully capable of misplacing compliments, especially for the likes of their own.

Hans Schneider was a sideman to Alex von Schlippenbach, Peter Brötzmann, Kenny Wheeler, John Butcher... well, dig here. Just want you to pay regard to the images of his paintings. And no, from now on I don't intend to find out about the painting habits of "my" musicians.

Marcus Heesch
Berlin, August 2012

 

10 YEARS LIVE & INTERDISCIPLINARY 

live-tempera started in London during summer 2001, strongly supported then by chellist and SOUND 323-founder Mark Wastell, welsh harp-player Rhodri Davies and the remarkable inventor of the legendary Relay-concept, guitarist John Bisset. The basic idea was to start an exhibition just with immaculate white canvases and, during the week, converting them in public into visual artworks the interdisciplinary way.

What does the painter remember? "... myself - after the first gig - complaining fiercly about my incompetence to make a digital recording of a concert at all [as i'd just failed], when Tom Chant turned around and pointed straight at the still wet painting: "There is the recording!". Two days later we had to show John Wall the door, as Mark Wastell didn't plan to do his session in any puplic... Wall's Out obviously had to be the title of the artwork, but Mark was really surprised, that it came up in his secret favourite colour combination."

Grabbing a chance to attack prejudices: yep, John Bisset and John Edwards warmed up with Elvis' It's Now Or Never. There also happend to be a cookin' session in [a kitchen in] Clapton, which wasn't planned. So lack of material was compensated with a semi-rotten fibre board found in the streets and selfmade rye-glue to fix the last piece of jute... and Knut Aufermann's piezo-speakers. Believe it or not, this painting can whisper to you the sound that made it.


Derek Bailey in concert at SOUND 323, London, in front of Mark Wasn't Tellin'

The London exhibition stayed for three months. Meanwhile the experience was continued in Berlin during the 9th Long Night of The Museums: a strange venue [The Hemp-Museum] and an unconventional situation for improvised music, as about 2.500 visitors [not what you seriously would call an experienced audience] were passing this night. No doubt, one of them stepped into the first painting, but instead of getting dumped it became linked to Joseph "Everyone 's an artist" Beuys by title. Do not underestimate your step!

According to this, seitenwechsel is a lame name [and worse was considered], but in 2002 Annette Krebs and Michael Renckel played a true masterpiece of some what later was labelled "Berlin Style". Cologne, the next month, was different and rough [is this a baritone painting?] and CD-released, titled with a Freudian slip by the sax player's son. Four days later in London... again different, again CD-released: Friendly Faces with a passionate Simon Fell and the wonderful Lol Coxhill. There was this short moment, when "Three Eggheads" was considered to be a great bandname.

Axel Dörner put aside his trumpet and came close with his video camera, while the early Kai Fagaschinski benchmarked a pair of expensive microphones and reflected on his playing as being "too dramatic". And then the 12th of August 2003... We Call It A Day... it must had been an outstanding premiere in radio history: the live-broadcast of a painting! Still not clear, who forgot to contact the GUINESS BOOK OF RECORDS...



"London's Best Kept Secret" hosted a great session [listen here] with Tony Wren and Chris Cundy, who is maybe still working on a "practice based PhD exploring the compatibility of drawing and music" at DARTINGTON COLLEGE OF ARTS.

Unforgotten the original Hugh Davies at The Arthouse venue at GOLDENSMITH'S COLLAGE, speaking german without the slightest hint of an accent [although in the mid 60s being Karlheinz Stockhausen's assistent in Cologne for just 1½ year], explaining why: "Corresponding in foreign languages improves my hearing abilities." Steve Beresford [improved hearing abilities?] seemed to remark a german "Notfunk" in the painter's statement, that he and Tom Chant had played "funky, but not funk." That's why you name a painting Emergency Radio.

Brass met brush in 2004 delicately through Axel Dörner and Tokyo minimalist [and frog fetishist] Toshihiro Koike, who also blew a hefty trombone in the legendary free-jazz big-band Shibusashirazu [hey yo, labelers! How minimal is that?!]. Extended by Butoh dancer Mayumi Fukuzaki, this line-up became another project: niwa.

niwa live at AUSLAND, Berlin, on 10th of March 2004

2005 was dominated by colaborations with Knut Aufermann. One [which is of the painter's favourites] came along with a Zulu from Stockholm, the irreplaceable Jair-Rôhm Parker-Wells [listen here]. Another one happend to be live on air at RADIO COPERNICUS in Berlin [again, can listen here], a temporary radio art-project at the university... Marcus Heesch was announced as Shark MacGull, so here you go with sharkey onAir [and yep, it can whisper too]. Oh, by the way... rumours were, their whole airing-project didn't went very well, although somebody smart suggested to contact the GUINESS BOOK OF RECORDS.

21inch got started, as 2 years before Jonathan Bohman had a point, when he asked for an encore-canvas after the "funky, but not funk"-thing. There was a quartet feat. Martin Speicher, Margret Trescher and the interdisciplinary most experienced Wolfgang Schliemann in Wiesbaden, that suddenly went totally free-jazz.

In 2006 live-tempera faded slowly into hibernate mode after a fantastic set in summer, competing hopelessly some mass moving worldchampionship of soccer, although featuring a rare line-up with two of the most interesting Berlin musicians.

Now 2 years ago there had been some explicitly experimental meeting, one might guess by the instrumental set-up: diatonic bluesharp met castanets and flamenco shoes. Actually no tengo miedo is the only mind-set to cope such a constallation: "I have no fear".

So, as a student of Howard Levy, Gerald Bambey was going to blow the harp by what is called 12 on 10. Once during a video chat last year, Howard spotted a &-painting behind Gerald, commenting that "it looks like what goes on through my mind a lot of the time." Well, who couldn't agree more?

Somehow Knut Aufermann and Sarah Washington [who knows building ready-made instruments as much as finest bridges to stop a crap one] accidently had a chat with Howard Levy months later, but that's another story. Just the thought, they have some musically linked visuality in common, although their kinds of music are differing so very, very much, is a very sweet one.

Sarah Washington's amazing self-made equipment in Hunolstein with 21inch

Looking back, there had been rare combinations, different approaches, unexspected tensions - it all worked kinda well, as the common sense was usually based on improvisation and [what you might call] best will. Just as London poetess Ephra once beautifully stated: "It's all live-tempered, isn't it?" And it shall be...