10.00 am. I returned from Farmers’ Marketeering with the fruit of the land and life’s essentials:

10.30 am.  Having received notification of a sound-art residency on ‘playing the rural landscape’, my thoughts returned to earlier ruminations on the post-industrial and pre-industrial landscapes of South Wales. The former bears the remnants of over two centuries of metal and coal mining, industries which are, now, barely visible in the imprint of buildings, partial and rudely-hewn walls suffocated by dandelions and ferns, and grassed-over coal tips. The latter, in the view of the Edmund Jones (1702-93), the Calvinistic Congregationalist minister and author, manifested the vestiges of the past too, only in this case — phantoms of the dead and myriad and very present evil entities. The question I ask myself is: Could these two worlds that bookend the industrial revolution be evoked, interpreted, ‘observed’, and represented sonically? One would be dealing with the landscape’s now invisible (for the most part), no longer inaudible, and irretrievable aspects — summoning up the ‘ghosts’ of history, as did the witch of Endor the spirit of Samuel (1 Sam. 28.3-25).

11.15 am. I made several minor but, collectively, significant changes to the current sound composition. My anticipation is that it’s approaching optimum resolution. I can see more clearly what needs to be added and subtracted. Henceforth, I proceed slowly:

1.30 pm. After lunch, I balanced the amplitudes of the tracks comprising the piece before taking second look at the new sampler device — which I now need to learn how to operate. For the purpose of the auto-tutorial, I sampled tracks from a BBC recording released after World War II. It consists of the spoken word (clearly enunciated, and in period style), field recordings, and a good deal of useable static and clicks:

It’s almost an axiom among users of electronic equipment that the clever bods who design the equipment are not so when it comes to explaining its functionality in instruction books. YouTube tutorials are, by far, a better means of learning — ‘show and tell’, as it were:

Most devices are capable of performing far more functions than I require. Thus, having mastered the basics, I withdraw until I need to know more. 4.30 pm. A final review for the day of the composition, and of the sound material stock from which the composition is derived. From this I gathered further, useable sound samples. 5.40 pm. An appropriate juncture at which to pause.

9.00 am. The first of several MA and PhD fine art tutorials this morning. There are always three types of creative work in prospect: that which one would enjoy doing, that which one could do, and that which one must do. The last option is to be preferred, always. And, ideally, what we must try to do that which only we can do. In committing ourselves to any one thing, we sacrifice the possibility of doing many others; we have neither the time, nor the resources, nor the energy to exercise all of our gifts and facilities. But the one thing can be sufficient — if we grasp the enormity of its potential for development and the demands that it’ll make upon us. 10.00 am. A double tutorial (a single tutorial for two students) on the joys of digital sound manipulation. I set up a mini desktop-studio space in a seminar room in order to demonstrate the principles and practice of sonic enhancement and the virtues of acoustic mixing. (You can’t mix on headphones alone.)

2.00 pm. Task: Assemble the new sound equipment stand which arrived sans manual: ‘He shall die for lack of instruction; and in the greatness of his folly he shall go astray. (Prov. 5.23):

I’ve an identical stand already (which must have come with instructions) to serve as a model. So, I live to fight another day. 3.00 pm. Task: Assemble, and link to the mixer, the modulation units, including the new hand sampler device:

In the background, I picked away at the current composition and tried out several new combinations of sound samples. A radical restructuring is called for.

6.00 pm. Task: respond to a few outstanding editorial queries regarding the forthcoming The Courtauld Institute chapter on the wax cylinder project. Task: Make an initial test of the new deck, mixer, and modulator array. Even when I do possess an instruction book for a piece of equipment, rarely does it deal the type of set-up that I use. In the end, I resort to instinct, intuition, and pushing any button that seemed remotely appropriate. Success!

7.30 pm. Task: Further test the magnetic and piezo pickup combinations on the RF Stealth Custom:

The active pickup enables the player to move the guitar’s output into overdrive on the amp’s clean channel. This instrument really does have ‘balls’, now. The possible combinations of four distinct pickup types are bewildering.  8.30 pm. Task: Write a letter to the family. Task: return to pushing and pulling, amplifying and muting, tracks comprising the composition. There are times when I make what appear be a good decision, but it turns out to be a really bad one. I’ve had the opposite experience too. At least in art, unlike in life, one’s mistakes can be easily undone.

9.15 pm. An end. The sky is unsettled: ‘There’s a storm coming!’:

8.30 pm. For the last few days, I’ve looked to the present from the past. Today, I look to the future from the present. Preparations. Following a review of incoming mail, I returned to outstanding business in the sound studio. Over the next couple of days, my tasks are to: integrate two further sound filters into the record deck array; thoroughly test the modified Custom RF Stealth guitar; clean and make fit for purpose the new (old) Revox tape recorder; and review the new composition.

9.30 pm. To begin, a putting away of things:

Every pedal, cable type, and power connector has an allocated box from which it comes and is returned. A studio should be regulated like a well-ordered palette. 12.00 pm. I pressed on with the new composition. I’m vacillating between two approaches, neither of which is sufficient unto itself. Either fusion or selection or wholesale rejection is the answer.

2.00 pm. I put the new modifications on the guitar to the test. The active-pickup (one which is powered by a preamp that boosts the signal and provides a more subtle adjustment to its tone) has considerable punch. I need this capacity to push the signal through the chain of synthesiser filters more effectively:

7.00 pm. I made a tentative remix of the new composition, exploring transitions from one sonic idea to another. I’m not convinced either way. I’m importing sound samples that were conceived for an earlier and entirely different approach to the source material. When ideas are conceived independently of one another and brought together, they don’t coalesce, naturally. But all things are possible. Sometimes, disparate forms dovetail fortuitously:

A solid night’s sleep; the first in a week. My final day in South Wales. 9.00 am. Mercifully, the sky was overcast and kept the ambient temperature within tolerable limits. A Starbrukfast:

Afterwards, I visited Newport’s covered market:

In an age of globalized companies, the persistence of these small-scale, specialized, and family-run businesses is both remarkable and praise worthy. After a cheapo haircut, I visited the the Newport Museum & Art Gallery. There, I perused the industrial collection, and caught-up with the continuing efforts that are being made to conserve and restore the remains of a medieval boat, which had been buried and preserved under the mud-silt of the River Wye at Newport:

The gallery still exhibits works that I saw there when I was an undergraduate, including one of Jack Crabtree’s monumental portraits of coalminers, a lyrical landscape with figures by John Selway (one of only two other contemporary artists to have emerged from Abertillery), and works by the British surrealist Evan Charlton and Tom Rathmell (a former Head of my old art school). Paintings have a conditional immutability: the artist ages; they age not:

Tom Rathmell, The Dresser

Proof of presence:

11.30 am. I spent the remainder of the morning in the reference library, which is in the same building as the Museum and Gallery:

I’ve not read here since 1981-2, the years between my BA and MA degrees, when I studied everything in their collection on art in Wales. I used the time, today, to catch-up on my diary and review emails from family and work. 1.30 pm. I took a late lunch at a café in the market – a delicious slice of homemade corned beef pie:

2.15 pm. A further hour of diarism before returning to the hotel to retrieve my suitcase and a walk to the railway station. Armed with bottles of cold water, I took the 5.31 pm train to Shrewsbury. Homeward! An easy journey.