I produced my first cassette mixtape in January 1982 at the age of 11. It was a TDK D-C120. On the A Side it read: fiesta. On the B side it read: juanfran. The model had only been released a couple of years earlier and you could record for the first time up to 60 minutes of music on each side. All the music on that mixtape was recorded from hours and hours waiting to the radio stations, waiting with a finger on the record button of a portable tape player.
The playlist has a tidal length, following the long rhythms of oceans, rivers and estuaries, and resisting the lengths of playlists imposed by music industries. Along the 10 hours that the experience lasts, listeners may hear at least 50 different musical instruments, some invented by the musicians themselves, to replicate the sounds of waters or communicate with rivers. Many non-human characters make cameos: Albatrosses, Saltwater Crocodiles, Mangroves, Whales, Sea Urchins, and Seaweed. The lyrics speak of many forms of rain, of flood devastations, of water spirits, orishas, and deities. They tell of water conflicts, of slavery, massacres and colonialism; and of the need to care for rivers, oceans and glaciers. Tracks selected are linked to the work of participating artists in the Biennale. Including by artists in the Biennale such as Bernie Krause and British-Finnish artist, composer and performer Hanna Tuulikki.
Sun-el Musician Mixtape 2021 Mp3 Download
DOWNLOAD 🔥 https://urlin.us/2yGblc 🔥
Rivers, wetlands and other salt and freshwater ecosystems feature in the 23rd Biennale of Sydney (2022), titled rvus, as dynamic living systems with varying degrees of political agency. Indigenous knowledges have long understood non-human entities as living ancestral beings with a right to life that must be protected. But only recently have animals, plants, mountains and bodies of water been granted legal personhood. If we can recognise them as individual beings, what might they say?
Rivers are the sediment of culture. They are givers of life, routes of communication, places of ritual, sewers and mass graves. They are witnesses and archives, our memory. As such, they have also been co-opted as natural avenues for the colonial enterprise, becoming sites of violent conflict driven by greed, exploitation and the thirst to possess. Indeed, the latin root rvus, meaning a brook or stream, is also at the origin of the word rivalry.
The 23rd Biennale of Sydney is articulated around a series of conceptual wetlands situated along waterways of the Gadigal and Barramattagal peoples. These imagined ecosystems are populated by artworks, experiments, activisms and research, which together follow the currents of meandering tributaries, expanding out into a delta of interrelated ideas including river horror, creek futurism, Indigenous science, cultural flows, ancestral technologies, counter-mapping, queer ecologies, multispecies justice, hydrofeminism, water healing, spirit streams, fish philosophy and sustainable methods of co-existence.
Sustainability should be an action, not a theme. rvus will reflect on its own conditions of possibility, becoming the catalyst for works already in progress; encouraging the use of non-polluting materials and production processes; advocating for locality, collectivity, collaboration and reduced waste; acknowledging its own impact on the environment while aiming to lower it through a systemic and creative approach.
As Jos Roca explains, the book A Glossary of Water is a substantial publication (572 pages) presented as a companion to the Biennale. It is an artistic book, a scholarly reference and a beautiful object. It was printed sustainably on excess paper stock of different types and weights from previous book projects, rather than recycled paper, giving the profile of the publication the look and feel of the sediment of the river.
The multimodal experience across exhibition, book and playlist is also notable in the work and music of Indigenous Australian artists. For instance, the Torres Strait 8, a collective formed in 2019 in Zenadh Kes (Torres Strait Islands). The work Warfare Dhori by Yessie Mosby, Zenadh Kes Masig man and claimant is being exhibited at the Biennale as part of the Torres Strait 8. The book includes an excerpt of the Our Islands Our Home campaign where eight Torres Strait Islander claimants have brought a landmark human rights complaint against the Australian Federal Government for its failure to reduce emissions or pursue proper adaptation measures across the region. The playlist expands this by including the track Island Home, with a version by Torres Strait hip-hop artist Mau Power.
The book includes images of work and excerpts from texts by 25 Indigenous Australian artists. These are extended into the playlist with tracks from Gurrumul (Baru Saltwater Crocodile); Yothu Yindi (Gapu), in connection to the commissioned text by Bawaka Country on Gapu; Dhapanbal Yunupingu (Mri Wurrapa); the Yakanarra Commmunity School (with a song by Elders to the Martuwarra Fitzroy River); The Sandridge Band (Ngabaya); Kardajala Kirridarra Ngurra (Raing Song); the above mentioned Warrell Creek Song by Emma Donovan; and Wash my Soul in the River by Archie Roach with the Australian Art Orchestra.
Tracks selected are linked to the work of artists participating in the Biennale, and to the commissioned and republished texts selected by the book co-editors, which speak to a range of matters of concern around rivers and waters. They are arranged in alphabetical order but are woven together in a permanent diffraction pattern. This extends the diffractive nature of the book:
Diffraction is a physical phenomenon that occurs as waves emerge, when water flows across an obstacle such as a rock. It is in many ways the opposite to reflection, the act of mirroring. Diffraction as a process of ongoing differences, not similitudes. In the book we invite a diffractive reading. In the playlist, a diffractive listening. And across book and playlist a relational agency emerges between songs and sounds, words and texts, inviting an intra-action across book and playlist.
That first cassette mixtape from 1982 included a song by Argentinean composer and guitar virtuoso Atahualpa Yupanqui who sang copiously to rivers and the stones through which rivers sing. One of these tracks El Rio, from a live performance in Rotterdam, is part of the playlist. It is one way of paying homage to rivers. An essential relational experience across book and playlist is around rivers. Their conflicts, their spirits, their rights. Many of the tracks speak about rivers and the playlist pays homage to twenty rivers including the Amazonas, Barka (Darling), Doce, Congo, Dunaem (Danube), Harlem, Isuzu, Japur, Martuwarra (Fitzroy), Orinoco, Paran, Piti, Seine, Mapocho, Mississippi, Nile, Volga, Whanganui, and Warrell Creek, an old traditional Gumbaynggirr song sang by Emma Donovan & The Putbacks.
The Gualcarque River in Honduras is sacred to the Lenca people. The river makes a cameo in the track Aqua da Vida by Spanish electronic producer JAS which includes the voice of Berta Cceres, Indigenous Lenca activist murdered in 2016 for defending her river, the Gualcarque.
The Japur River in Brazil actually starts in the Colombian Andes, where it is known as the Caquet River. It flows for almost 3000 kilometres until it bonds its waters with those of the Amazon River. In 1993, Phillip Glass collaborated with Brazilian music ensemble Uakti on the album guas da Amazonia (Waters of Amazonia). The ensemble takes its name from Uakti, a mythological being who lived on the banks of the Rio Negro (Black River) and whose body was full of holes. When the wind passed through them, it produced sounds that bewitched the women of the tribe. Uakti, the ensemble, build and play their own custom-made musical instruments.
As the oceans warm up and struggle to breathe, as rivers no longer make it to the sea, as drinking water is commodified, as the seabed is mined, as all of the multitudes of life forms that depend on these waters are made increasingly precarious, caring better for other bodies of water seems more urgent than ever.
This is part of a series of essays commissioned as part of a partnership between Western Sydney University and the 2022 Biennale of Sydney, titled rvus, that respond to A Glossary of Water, an artist book, scholarly reference and beautiful object, published as a companion to the Biennale.
In this iterative writing and walking project, we have been making space to ask questions of each other about caring for Country, to share conversations about climate change, and to remind ourselves of the love that keeps us present.
This part of the Parramatta River where I walk is the western end, the part where it turns shallow and serpentine. This is not the river of historical islands and weekend sailing and houses with water views; that exists where the river breaks into the harbour further east. This is the river of narrow channels and mudflats and mangroves; of sex clubs and factories and unmarked burial grounds; of lunatics and God and disappearing buildings.
We acknowledge the traditional custodians of the lands on which we work, the Burramattagal people of the Darug nation, and pay our respects to elders past, present, and emerging. Sovereignty was never ceded, and the struggles for justice are ongoing. We acknowledge the traditional custodians of the lands this digital platform reaches.
Last December, Brooklyn's Oneida issued a limited-run cassette, Fine European Food and Wine, on Scotch Tapes. Sure, the tape contained years-old live improvisations the band deemed unfit for "mainstream" treatment. But Oneida aren't unheralded kids laboring in their bedrooms. Over the past decade, they've put out 10 albums on Jagjaguwar, including 2009 triple LP Rated O. "Why release a cassette?" their singing drummer, Kid Millions, muses. "Man, who knows, right?"
Oneida are only one of the most recent indie-inclined outfits embracing the tape format. London label the Tapeworm opened its virtual doors last summer, selling out a limited run of cassettes by enigmatic multimedia artist Philip Jeck. Upstart bands Jail and Harlem each put out tapes on Fullerton, Calif.-based Burger Records; Sub Pop went on to sign Jail, now Jaill, while Matador inked a multi-album deal with Harlem. Hometapes, the Portland-based label behind art-rockers like Bear in Heaven and Pattern Is Movement, capped the year by mailing out a label sampler to journalists-- on cassette. 152ee80cbc
mens soccer jersey mockup free download