Han-earl Park, April 11, 2011: ‘Lab report 2007-2011: signing-out as curator’

“As previously announced, after thirty-two events over three and a quarter years, I’ve stepped down as curator of Stet Lab as of February 2011.”

Corey Mwamba, December 9, 2010: ‘Lab report december 6th 2010: thank you!’

“It always helps if the other people are wanting to do the same thing and I think that happened—there were some lovely moments where things really came together. I was even relaxed enough to go on the drums—which as I am sure you’ll hear, was a mistake, but a relaxed mistake.”

Susan Geaney, December 6, 2010: ‘Lab report november 15th 2010: let the rant begin…’

“We improvisers dig the ego or can’t escape it. Like a game of snakes and ladders, we chop and change direction every 2–5″.”

Colm Pattwell, November 23, 2010: ‘Lab report october 11th and november 15th 2010: humming, buzzing’

“One thing I want to hear is someone just grooving on something limited or ‘standard’ for want of a better word. For all the different music being played at the lab, sometimes it just doesn’t sound that different to itself!”

Han-earl Park, April 26, 2010: ‘Lab report april 12th 2010: consequences of actions’

“A single quote… can have interesting and problematic consequences for interaction. The effectiveness of the quote—to be able to collapse and redirect and improvisation—is also what makes them hard to deal with.”

John Godfrey, April 23, 2010: ‘Lab report april 12th 2010: kudos’

Han-earl Park, April 7, 2010: ‘Lab report march 8th 2010: 3+1 questions’

“Is ‘success’ (however that’s defined) a meaningful idea in approaching (as listener or performer) improvisation?”

Ruti Lachs, February 7, 2010: ‘Lab report january 11th 2010: get together and make weird noises’

“I played some stuff that I couldn’t recognise as a tune, but the audience seemed to recognise it as valid, cos they clapped, and even laughed once or twice at the funny bits!”

Han-earl Park, January 26, 2010: ‘Lab report december 7th 2009: futzing’

“Neither ‘intentional’ (‘deliberate’ and ‘authorial’) nor ‘noise’ (e.g. the Cagian denial of agency). These things—‘noise’/‘intention’—exist on a line, and it isn’t so much about riding the border between them, but steeping off that line. We want to enter a space that is not about control, nor the lack of it, but about surprises, densities and irregularities; about relationships—differences and negotiations….”

Han-earl Park, November 21, 2009: ‘Lab report november 10th 2009: history and lineage’

“I want, at bare minimum, to be able to play—to have a relationship with the guitar that is technically accomplished—but I also want to want to be heard—that listeners/audiences would seek out my playing and my performances.”

Han-earl Park, November 2, 2009: ‘Lab report october 12th 2009: a conversation with eliza’

“Most of my work in the last few years has been in the jam session mold. People fly in, or I fly out, and there’s an ad-hoc meeting. What I miss is the band.”

Piaras Hoban, October 20, 2009: ‘Lab report October 12th 2009: be no shelter to these outrages’

“tap
“low end light a little
“the
“blow tap tap wind
“blow tap tap wind tap
“on”

Han-earl Park, July 3, 2009: ‘Lab report June 8th 2009: play different’

“I did have fun, but I think I also realized (remembered?) why I’d been avoiding this particular mode of interaction. It’s too easy; the choices are the most obvious. It’s like movies that, uncertain of the intelligence of their audience, get loaded with too much exposition.”

Veronica Tadman, June 13, 2009: ‘Lab report June 8th 2009: the alarm will sound if you don’t back away’

“So, why was it annoying me? I think it’s because I love control. (Why then am I interested in performing improvisation?) I wasn’t in control of the alarm: one could argue that I wasn’t in control of my fellow improvisers, but my argument to that is, if I wanted to I could have pulled the plug and prevented power. Also as we were an ensemble my input had a consequence on what happened (especially with what Piaras [Hoban] was doing because i was linked to his computer). Likewise he was in control of what happened with my input so it was almost like equilibrium.”

Han-earl Park, June 10, 2009: ‘Lab report May 11th 2009: parking your idiom’

“…I want the listening experience to be rich and interesting. If you’re sharp, you’d have caught it, made connections, and patted yourself on the back for being a clever listener; if not, well, no biggie, hopefully there’s enough complexity to provide ear-candy and (unintended) connections.”

Han-earl Park, May 25, 2009: ‘Lab report April 14th 2009: little instruments’

“My mentors include those who enroll gargantuan complex of musical resources and those who do not. How do I figure in this equation? There are, of course, pragmatic dimensions to this… but nonetheless what are the political/ideological implications of subscribing to one position?”

Ros Steer, April 1, 2009: ‘Lab report March 10th 2009: beginner bassist’s blathering blog’

“Leaving aside any personal taste in the aesthetics of sound, I think it’s more fun to perform together. I don’t mean that the performers should always be ‘in tune’ with each other or mimicking each other but just in tune to each other.”

Han-earl Park, March 29, 2009: ‘Lab report March 10th 2009: the possibility of failure’

“There’s a logic to the… abandonment of safety nets. Their absence can reveal who you are (and might be) without those prothesis. In engineering terms, by removing a component, you can test out the behavior of the rest of the (cyborgian) system…. What I discovered wasn’t exactly wonderful.”

Han-earl Park, February 23, 2009: ‘Lab report February 10th 2009: train wrecks and other fascinating disasters’

“I’m not sure what ‘opposite’ might mean in a musical-performance context (never mind one in which identities and relationships are being (re)negotiated in real-time). Isn’t saying that this (performance infected by agendas, etc.) is not improvisation, akin to saying that polemical or ideological disagreements are not democratic?”

Andrea Bonino, February 22, 2009: ‘Lab report February 10th 2009: on playing and being played’

“In the best moments when music really works, I still have the impression that music is coming through the musicians, and the musicians receive it and transmit it more or less like a radio set… think about that weird and beautiful sound that came out of your instrument almost by accident, and that you are trying to recreate with no success and you get the picture.”

Han-earl Park, January 30, 2009: ‘Lab report 2007-2009: how to run an improvised music club’

“Whether you would want to organize a regular improvised music event depends on what you’re looking to gain from it. Stet Lab, for me, is partly a long-term scene-building exercise; it is, at times, a place of research into the pedagogical, sociological and political dimensions of improvisative practice; an excuse to bring over practitioners whose work I am excited about; and a place to play.”

Han-earl Park, January 18, 2009: ‘Lab report January 12th 2009: healthy disrespect for the comfort zone’

“I’ve been prone to sports metaphors in the past, but Murray [Campbell] came up with a new one: table tennis. A great game of table tennis is not one that you score points, but in which all your resources—your body, your mind, your training—tells you one thing, but circumstances outwit you. You reach for the ball, but it ball heads in a completely different direction. You loose a point, but you go wow, how did that happen?”

Veronica Tadman, January 18, 2009: ‘Lab report January 12th 2009: detoxes really do work’

“I cannot quite figure out what was the key factor that made this months Lab stand out above the rest: Was it Murray [Campbell]? Was it the large crowd? The press release that constantly went on about a party?”

Han-earl Park, December 16, 2008: ‘Lab report December 9th 2008: when is a cliché a cliché’

“Are my gestures the same size? are my ideas-per-minute constant? I think, on a good day, on the microscopic level, my playing exhibits (complex / interesting / infuriating / contradictory) variation, but I fear that, on a macroscopic level, it’s often (simple / boring / predictable / coherent) uniformity that rules the day. Am I getting too comfortable in this space?”

Kevin Terry, November 24, 2008: ‘Lab report November 10th 2008: mindful auto-pilot nonsense’

“The aspiration for this month’s Lab (though I admit I decided on it less that five minutes before playing) was to play quasi-logically; pick a strategy and don’t budge… So I decide early on… to shadow Andrea [Bonino] and try to limit myself to playing while he isn’t. This is then complemented/complicated by playing pianissimo lyrically when he is playing. This is maintained throughout.”

Han-earl Park, November 20, 2008: ‘Lab report November 10th 2008: out of my depth’

“…By and large, if my adrenaline-choice-machine was doing anything, it was always looking for the nearest, most convenient route, avoiding interesting, circuitous options—the ones that lead off-the-edge into ugly-beutiful spaces and serendipitous-contradictory relationships.”

Veronica Tadman, November 19, 2008: ‘Lab report November 10th 2008: the rockstar wannabes’

“…As the only performer that doesn’t have an instrument that is material to hide behind, I often feel exposed and perhaps somewhat uncomfortable; this has consequently had a knock-on affect on my performance. However, not so much this month.”

Han-earl Park, October 16, 2008: ‘Lab report October 9th 2008: being paul desmond’

“Searching for a way to operate in this group, I was trying to reach Braxton’s Desmond in my musical personality (i.e. carefully considering many choices, but selectively executing only a small number of them). And that’s not a position I’ve tried to occupy in a long time…. It turned out, however, to be an interesting scheme for generating tactics in real-time, if not one that I feel compelled to return to.”

Tony O’Connor, July 30, 2008: ‘Lab report July 10th 2008: consequences of a noisy head’

“Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the insurmountable difficulties of the situation forced my mind to give up and get on with it…. The problem, I think, is that this type of improvisation should be an immediate response, and every time a thought gets in the way, it puts a filter between the event and the response. There are times in the first piece where this barrier breaks down, like the strange antiphony section, but mostly I was just quietly panicking along to my own internal monologue. ‘An E major? What are you THINKING!? Oh great, some more string noise, yeah, that’ll win them over… Muppet.’”

Han-earl Park, July 25, 2008: ‘Lab report July 10th 2008: fitting the square piece into that triangular hole’

“You know… that you’ve lost the game in improvisation when you’re preempting the music. You don’t want to be thinking this is how it should be, goddamnit, and I will fit that square piece into that triangular hole. Much more fruitful is to approach the problem almost like resource management: given our context, what can we do? given our current location, where can we go? given where we’ve been, how we’ve travelled, what exciting places could this route(s) lead us? This becomes a question of possibilities—what we can make of what we have (and who we are).”

Melanie L. Marshall, July 7, 2008: ‘Lab report June 12th 2008: thoughts of a newbie improviser’

“Now I know what goes through a newbie improviser’s head, or at least through this newbie’s head: sheer terror.”

Han-earl Park, June 26, 2008: ‘Lab report June 12th 2008: being the odd-one-out’

“Secondary problem with this strategy: although ‘having plenty of time to think about my re-entrance’ is indeed a luxury, like a lot of ‘prepared means’, they come with Improviser’s Hazard No. 697: exactly when would be a good time to act?”

Eoin Callery, June 17, 2008: ‘Lab report June 12th 2008: noisiest “hoedown”’

“A special mention must be made of the vocal talents of two heavily intoxicated eastern european (they never quite managed to explain exactly where they were from!) who entered the fray at various points. People may say that you could never perform something like Zappa’s ‘Lumpy Gravy’ live—well given the right balance of whatever they were on, they may decide to stage it yet….”

My thanks also to all the guest artists who have shared the stage with us, generously contributing to, and transforming, this practice. There’s too many names to mention, but I’d like to thank, in particular, two club-runners, Bruce Coates (who with Sarah O’Halloran and I kicked-off Stet Lab in November ’07) and Mike Hurley for their advice, cautionary tales and encouragement; to Murray Campbell, Franziska Schroeder and John Godfrey who took time out of their busy schedules, and stepped-up when others would/could not; and to Corey Mwamba, Ian Smith, Justin Yang and Alex Hawkins for encouraging words, and an unwavering belief in grass-roots music organizations. Special thanks to Paul Dunmall, Mark Sanders and Don Malone; heavy-hitters who believed in the Lab enough to participate with neophyte improvisers in what must be, by their standards, a low-key event.

Kudos to Jesse Ronneau for supporting improvised music, and the aims of the Lab in particular, during his time in Cork. I apologize for the many whose name I’ve not listed, but y’all have my warmest thanks, and my sincerest admiration for your contributions—we are a better space for it!

Of course, the biggest thanks go to everyone who participated as listener (and I am thinking in particular of the regulars who come every month!), and to those brave ones who jump-in the deep-end!

Signing-off as curator: Thanks, thanks, thanks and thanks to y’all!

BTW, some of my observations about running this space around the half-way point of my tenure as curator are at ‘Lab report 2007-2009: how to run an improvised music club’.

Listening back to the recordings I can’t remember what I was playing or what’s coming next, but I can remember what I was thinking as I played. Such thoughts included “That doesn’t sound like what I expected”, “Now What?”, “Ha!”, “That was cool”, “Where’s he going with this?”, “What is that on the ceiling?” and “Should I finish here?” I think that, for me anyway, sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t (depending of course on how you choose to define ‘worked’) which I suppose is in the nature of these things. What I mean, I think, is that sometimes it sounded like two people performing together and at other times it was more like two people who happened to be improvising at the same time. Leaving aside any personal taste in the aesthetics of sound, I think it’s more fun to perform together. I don’t mean that the performers should always be ‘in tune’ with each other or mimicking each other but just in tune to each other. If that makes any sense. Most importantly, I had a blast. It was really good fun to improvise with another person and play with them, off them, against them. Fun fun happy happy fun times.

Number two (the one after the first thing): Playing for R.E.A.L.

I definitely wasn’t expecting the opportunity to play with this toy. Just before the second half of their set begins, and me thinking I was safely out of the frying pan and cosy in front of the fire, Jesse Ronneau comes over….

“I’m gonna start this half, and then any time you want you come up, and take the bass from me and take over….”

Cool. Deadly… wait, what? How am I going to make this not seem like a rude intrusion??

Should I go now? No… Now? Hmmm, maybe not. What about now…? Just Go!

What followed was me messing around with the best double bass toy I’ve ever come across. I’m not sure how fantastic my performance was but once again…

I had fun.

safety…

For me ‘oxleygrass (Marie’s phone)’ really doesn’t work as music. I think, at best, it’s a technical demonstration.

The ditty didn’t go anywhere: no changes (abrupt or otherwise) in dynamics, velocities, densities, complexities, (ir)regularities, etc. Pretty run-of-the-mill stuff. In that conversation with Melanie L Marshall, Paul Dunmall compared a successful improvisation to a string under tension: you want to increase the tension almost to breaking point without actually breaking it. In those terms, this ditty had no tension—no tug, no pull. Is that failure?

Does ‘choose your own adventure’ really work any better than ‘oxleygrass…’? Perhaps more successful (certainly more listenable) as music, but the results are a little too familiar from the performer’s point of view (that would be mine). No surprises, all hackneyed stuff.

So that raises an interesting question: not withstanding the desirability of both, is it better to fail as a piece of music, yet leap into the unknown, or is it better to craft a listenable piece of music, but remain in a safe space? [More discussion about safety and comfort…]

…nets

The lack of the volume pedal (a component of this cyborg guitarist that I’ve been questioning for some time) probably contributed to the nerves as (undesirable?) surprises awaited me as a result.

There’s a logic to the (controlled?) abandonment of safety nets. Their absence can reveal who you are (and might be) without those prothesis. In engineering terms, by removing a component, you can test out the behavior of the rest of the (cyborgian) system. (Franziska Schroeder recently introduced me to another derogatory term by Komposers for real-time interactive musicians—‘naked improvisers’. In that sense, does the lack of volume pedal makes me more naked?) What I discovered wasn’t exactly wonderful.

I’ve worried that my ‘phrases’ (defined rather broadly) tended to be uniform, and hypothesized that this was due to the minimum/maximum cycle of the leg-foot-pedal complex. What I discovered by taking the volume pedal out of the chain was that I hardly phrase at all without it, and, during those few moments when the gestures did delineate a phrase, its articulation was indistinct and had even less variation.

As I struggled with this, the tactician took a back seat, leaving larger term variation untouched. It’s only several minutes into the performance (at about the 4:50 mark) when I think to do something about it.

Where to go from here?

Melanie was surprised that I decided to abandon the volume pedal at the start of the gig (see ‘clichés: getting all the crap out of the way’ below). I agree that it was a risky strategy, and not very successful in this instance. I would, however, like to try such opening gambits again; they have the smell of potentially being dramatic for me (and perhaps for the audience).

negotiating risk

The duo with Ros Steer (‘it’s double bass night tonight at Stet Lab’) went better, even if (or because of) the logic of that improvisation was oblique. A disaster, perhaps, according to some formalist criteria, but that doesn’t bother me (I did, after all, give up being a Komposer a long time ago).

Even as I’m aware that she’s a newcomer to the Lab’s stage (and, I’m guessing, also a relative novice to this practice), I’m testing out the network: how does Ros deal with contrasting elements, with being left alone, with gestures that don’t (seemingly) relate to hers.

In contrast, during the closing quartet (‘siren’), the high-volume trio of Owen Sutton, Kevin Terry and myself threaten to overrun the quieter voice, Méadhbh Boyd. We give her space, but she doesn’t take it. The trio of familiar improvisers and a newcomer makes for a hazardous combination. Is that failure on the trio’s part?

clichés: getting all the crap out of the way

Han-earl Park: “I think I’ve run out of ideas.”
Veryan Weston: “That’s when the creative stuff happens.”

Recently, I’ve got into the habit (if that’s the word for it) of ‘getting all the crap out of the way’: starting the gig by throwing in (out) all my clichés, habits and standard tropes. I did that recently in a duo with Mark Sanders, and, to some degree, with Franziska this month. This requires you to trust yourself to still find stuff—that your creativity can still find expression—beyond what you already know you are capable of; that your craftiness isn’t bound by your history (even as it is based on, bounces-off of, and is perhaps defined by it).

I never went through that moment on March 10th, and perhaps that frustration finds expression during that last quartet. Now, is that failure?

Having said all that, these atoms—clichés or otherwise—inform me (and perhaps audiences and my fellow performers) about who I am—my history, my lineage, my identity. As I’ve said before I can trace almost everything I do to my musical ancestors.

the fourth wall: or maybe I should listen to my own advice

Last year I actually did something (near-direct quotation during an improvisation) that I warned my students against as too risky, and I did something similar this month (breaking the fourth wall). I managed to pull it off last time, but I don’t think the results were worth the gamble this time.

During this month’s event, I though it’d be an amusing, humorous gambit to start with a restart. (It was also an attempt to explode the improvisative practice.)

I also decided to do the same with the closing quartet. Though I think Kevin and Owen got the joke, in retrospect, perhaps it was an alienating moment for Méadhbh. (It also maybe came across as an assertion of leadership, though Kevin admirably seemed to take it as a call to rebellion.)

The breaking of the fourth wall can work sometimes (it did that time), but apparently not under these conditions, and not this particular way. If a significant aspect of the art of improvisation is the art of persuasion, I lost the trust of the audience (and my fellow performers) at that point. …And it felt like it put a spanner in the works for the rest of the event (and not in a good way).

(This was doubly problematic as curator, and that’s part of the reason for delegating the task of refereeing to Kevin. I’ve said that curating Stet Lab is “an art, not a science”, and I’m still learning on the job.)

aiming for greatness?

I think Owen found the last quartet a disappointing experience. I told Owen that it wasn’t going to be great every time. It can’t be. We aim for greatness (however you define that) perhaps (I know I do), but we often fail.

I told Owen that, regardless of the success or otherwise of the performance, he has at least the right attitude for this way of musicking. An attitude that encompasses a personal (or shared) understanding that some outcomes are more desirable (however you gauge that) than others. Add to that a sense of how to improve (evolve, mutate and adapt)—a creative intelligence—that makes the next one likely better than the last, and you have the model improviser. Aren’t we, to borrow a term from Mark Dresser, involved in a personal pedagogy? (Dresser (2000), ‘A Personal Pedagogy’ in John Zorn (ed.) Arcana: Musicians on Music (New York: Granary Books), pp. 250–261.)

A big thanks to the R.E.A.L. ensemble (Francis Heery, Piaras Hoban, James Fortune, Nora Salmon and Jesse Ronneau) for performing, and, hey, if I’m allowed to thank myself on behalf of the Lab, to Han-earl Park for opening the event. Major kudos to everyone who took to the stage, both Stet Lab (ir)regulars (Owen Sutton, Veronica Tadman and Kevin Terry) and newcomers (Méadhbh Boyd, Áine Mangaoang and Ros Steer). Special thanks to Kevin for refereeing on the night, and to photographer, John Hough.

Finally, as always, thanks to all who came to support this event.

As with all the recordings since December 2008, this month’s recordings are covered under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License. [More info…]

Also performing will be guitarist Han-earl Park who last performed solo in Cork almost exactly a year ago. [Listen…]

It should be an evening of compelling performances. Hope to see y’all there, and many thanks for your continued support.

Stet Lab with the R.E.A.L. Ensemble plus Han-earl Park

Tuesday, March 10th 2009

9:00 pm (doors: 8:45 pm)

Upstairs @ The Roundy [map…]
Castle Street
Cork, Ireland

€10 (€5)

Stet Lab presents the debut of a live electro-acoustic group, the R.E.A.L. Ensemble, upstairs at The Roundy, Castle Street, on the Tuesday, 10th March 2009 at 9 pm.

The R.E.A.L. Ensemble is composed of an award winning composer and improviser, Jesse Ronneau (double bass), plus four of Cork’s most exciting emerging artists, Francis Heery (laptop), Piaras Hoban (laptop and iPhone), James Fortune (electric guitar and effects) and Nora Salmon (laptop).

“We focus on spontaneous creation of immersive sonic landscapes produced by merging digital technologies with amplified acoustic instrument,” explains Francis Heery, one of the founders of the ensemble. Plundering techniques and technologies from contemporary composition, rock music, algorithmic music-making, drone music, minimalist electronica, musique concrète and noise, “sounds are played, processed, synthesized, reorganized, digested and regurgitated, creating a self-generating interactive entity, unpredictable, uncompromising and constantly engaging.”

One of Stet Lab’s regular performers, Veronica Tadman, adds, “Stet Lab has not hosted anything like the R.E.A.L. Ensemble before; it is going to be an exciting fresh venture. I personally am intrigued by what an iPhone can do musically, so will be looking out for its appearance on the night. A performance not to be missed!”

Opening the event will be guitarist Han-earl Park. In contrast to the cutting-edge technological resources of the R.E.A.L. Ensemble, Park will be demonstrating what new musics might be made with an amplified guitar, with some imagination, skill, and a little luck.

With the opportunity for the adventurous to sit-in and perform with the programmed acts, this month’s event will be a leap into the exciting outer-reaches improvised music.

The event will begin at 9:00 pm (doors open at 8:45 pm) and entry is €10 (€5).

Stet Lab will be back in April with more left-field, real-time musical interactions.