Propositions from Garston Wood: a pocket of Ancient Woodland on the Cranborne Chase.
Garston Wood is now a fragment of a once much large hunting forest that covered the chalk high grounds and downlands of the Cranborne Chase. The wood has been coppiced for over a 1000 years, and within it lies a much older remnant of settlement, Mistleberry Fort an unfinished Iron Age Hill Fort now covered by Hazel and Oaks. The woods are home to variety of bird and butterfly species including Nightingales and Turtle Doves.
In the affective atmosphere, is you're hearing of the vegetative, the flesh, the ground.
The Chorus proposes a period of time(ings), of collective annunciation. Garston Wood is singing this morning, and its singing is a song learnt from the ditches of the hill fort eroded by accumulation of leaf litter, disappearing year after year. Song learnt from the wood-as-resource for a millennia of being cut and regrown. Song learnt from the passers by, from those who charged the lands as hunting forest. Song learnt from those whose hooves were chased. Songs learnt from those whose feathers now get swept by its wind, as they near the terminus of their migration. Song learnt from those listening this morning to me and the recording equipment and the computer and the song its singing, as attempts to capture all these traces that make this morning.
Previous vibration produces the pressure of the now.
The Chorus proposes a period of time(ings), between the cochlea and imaginative, A co-mingling that breaks apart the body as singular, determined entity, into an expanded auditory b-o-d-y, pressuring its demand of the plural. It suggest many for *You can not have a chorus of one*. It proposes the stakes of a space that is co-constituted by multiplicitous offerings,
its duration is held by the participants, a common time of all those human + non-human involved in the act, repeating calls, copying trills, citing others to elicit response, to echo and re-announce that which was just heard before. It is made of movement within an enclosure, of times, of vibrations, of pressures, in direct response to those that just heard, those that just heard those that just heard
How might the labour behind these voicings get acknowledged though?
It seems fitting that today (May 1st + its 24 hr lag, which this live stream falls towards the end of) has been historically a period of time to consider transition and proposition, of the capacity to voice thought discontent, and be heard, to re-announce and cite the conditions which produced that voice. Whether they be the onset of summer atmospheres, the opening of buds or the means by which the baseline conditions work are valued. Is Chorus, to dance round the maypoll, with spirits jump over the fire of beltane, to congregate together and voice embodied demand of the conditions of production and valuation. This year and today in the UK amonst many other things it is to protest to ‘kill the bill’ against a legislative enclosure of the right to make protest and to produce a noise that could make notable interferance between the signal relations of a state agenda and a right of a public in disagreement. The Right to Listen is the ‘inaudible’ proposition that is sounded in every declaration. It is the flux of the chorus, located right now between the vocalisations in Garston Wood and its new songbird migrants, and the b-o-d-i-e-s in other amorphous crowds demanding the means to be able to make movement, agitation and vibration and define the boundaries of that enclosure.
Stream: Multiple audio perspective - Stereo Audio stream, with Piezo contact mic of Soil and Tree Trunk. This stream also falls within part of George's ongoing project Echo-HeArding, which examines listening architectures, expanding auditory bodies and their vibrations.