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Here’s another post I’ve been meaning to write for some time. Further to my previous post about the first volume of The Work Of Atget that I’d bought, I’ve now secured two more and, being secondhand, they also both bear the marks of their previous owners. Thank god they’re not mint (though that would mean they’d be worth at least £100 more than these copies). In The Art Of Old Paris, whatever happened to Caroline and Frank and Margaret and Tasso? Did they all make it to Paris? I hope they did. A lot of the photographs in this volume are of hovels and semi-derelict buildings soon to be demolished in the great renovations of the early part of the last century, so Margaret’s (or Tasso’s) entreaty to “fasten some fantasies to these pages” is just a little strange.

My edition of Old France (Volume 1) breaks my heart a little: “Public Library DISCARD Columbus Ohio”. Borrowed only 15 times between 1983 and 1995 – what could the denizens of Columbus have been thinking? They deserve to be thoroughly chastised.

I’m currently reading The Recording Angel by Evan Eisenberg. It’s a survey of the history of recording and the impact of that process upon music and our experience and appreciation of music. And it’s brilliant: hugely original, witty and perceptive. I suspect I’ll be make more references to it here in future. For the time being, I just want to quote the author’s interpretation of HMV’s famous image:

… the immense popularity of the HMV logo suggests the following things. That we feel like dumb animals before the phonograph, cocking our ears in consternation. That we are not masters of the voice, but the other way around. That the owner of the voice is dear to us, that we miss him and would like to see and sniff him. That if the disc is faithful to the master, we will be faithful to the disc.

I´m on a deserted desert island, with internet. I´ll up date  the blog soon and tell all.

As you’ve probably noticed (unless you’re wisely reading this in a newsreader via RSS), I’ve switched to a different visual theme. I sort of like it, sort of am unsure – the homepage layout is a pain with the way it only displays a bit of the most recent post. However, the full post page I like a lot. Then again some of it’s a bit too pale. Anyway, I’d really appreciate it if you let me know what you think. I may fiddle about with the stylesheet in the meantime. Thanks.

All images in this post are by Cypher One. Visit his Flickr area to view gorgeous hi-res versions of these and other images.

Talk of HDD photography has been bouncing round the internet for a while now, the examples I’d seen of it were intriguing, but they didn’t move me particularly. The illustrations in the Wikipedia entry would leave most people scratching their head. Then I followed the BoingBoing entry about the derelict Taiwanese ‘space apartments’, pictured above. Quite apart from their post-production treatment, these images are beautifully shot and riddled with the pathos of lost futures. However the HDD technique suffuses them with something breathtaking: there’s a richness and depth that others have called painterly (though I’m not fond of that description). This is perhaps best illustrated by another of Cypher One’s photographs taken of a more workaday subject:

The fascination of these pictures comes, for me, from their folding of multiple timeframes into one image – except that folding isn’t quite right, the slight blurring and the strange play of colours and textures implies the passage of time in a very involving, subtle way.

(Painting: Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose by John Singer Sargent)

An enterprising parent we didn’t know posted an invitation to all interested parents at our children’s school: ‘come camping in Epping Forest the first weekend after end of term’. Who could resist? Okay, we nearly did, but that’s us. We were camped to one side of a large field, one of four such fields on the campsite. Our fellow parents were pitched to right and left. A hundred yards or so away the forest lay, dark green and mute. After darkness had fallen, once the tents had been set up, the food burnt and eaten, and fires lit, stoked and tended, a snaking line of children, pied piper-like, began to make their way towards the forest. Our children joined them and Is said we should go along, to keep an eye on them. There must have been 20 or so little ones and maybe half that number of adults. We reached the lip of the forest and entered in single file to avoid the brambles and the whipping of branches. Once inside, there was a lot of space between the trees. The children’s torches were like fireflies snapping this way and that. We walked towards a clearing, dead leaves and twigs rustling and snapping beneath our feet. It wasn’t dark, I don’t recall a moon, but the wood seemed luminescent, lit from within. There was a magical stillness despite our noisy progress. At the centre of the clearing a gnarled tree stump twisted up towards the night. Someone suggested returning then, but that was much too soon. In the middle distance a path could just be seen and I suggested walking at least to that point. Once reached, of course we had to walk further. All the while, there was the contrast between the excited chatter of the kids now split into little groups, the hushed talk of the adults and the quiet of the wood around us. Likewise, the flickering of the torches, the luminescence and the broader darkness of the night. Eventually the adults’ call to return to camp became irresistible and we reluctantly turned around and retraced our steps. On the way back I couldn’t resist the urge to leave the group and go into the woods on my own. It was only 5 minutes, but the silence seemed to descend preternaturally quickly, despite my still being able to see the party a 100 or so yards away. I thought I might be spooked, but I wasn’t. Five minutes. Just long enough to taste something much bigger and much, much older than my own life.

Q: Is your vocoder the actual one used by kraftwerk or just the same model uesd by them

A: This is the one and only prototype. It was a contract work for Kraftwerk. Nobody else used this actual item. It is no other Vocoder of this kind excisting. Hope this answers your question, best regards, Peter

Q: Is it in working order? Is there a schematic to indicate I/O and repair?

A: The device definetely needs an overhaul by a knowledgeable technician. Todays test shows that it is basically working and partly functionable. Bandpass filters are working audibly when sliders are moved. There is some noise and hum, please consider the age of the item (35 years). No schematics available. Highest bidder may have contact to the engineers who built it.

And one more picture’s been added:

One thing I forgot to include in the last post was an attribution – thanks to Musicthing for the reference.