Published Writing
Click below to see works for:
Sound Works
A Selection from Sound in Sound
*This piece was featured as part of vignette's debut exhibition, Rebirthing the Unwanted.*A Selection from Sound in Sound: How We Perceive and Recall the Urban Soundscape, 2022Stereo X/Y, shotgun and smartphone microphonesWhat does the city sound like? What do the city’s sounds tell us about urban life? What do people’s opinions and recollections of these sounds mean? Do they matter? The selection provided from this piece explores the relationship between urban geography, auditory perception, and memory, while drawing attention to ambient sound. The sounds in this piece, collected from Washington Square and Union Square Parks in early 2022, aim to guide the listener through their own perceptions of the soundscapes of urban greenspaces.The entire project employs three interlocking methods—ethnographic investigation of peoples’ attitudes toward urban soundscapes, analysis of ambient audio recordings, and a composition building these recordings into this exploratory “sound work”—that provides rich material for interpretation. In the sound work, environmental sound takes the lead, while the human voice serves as a transitional and supplemental track. This idea of inversion also becomes apparent in the project as a whole, as the sound work is the central component, with the extensive written text being provided as an important supplement. This project presents the sound work as a manifestation of scholarly argument, rather than an adjunct to it. This open-ended, eclectic format thus embodies an argument about sound in sound.
Chimnopédie
Chimnopédie, 2021
fireplace, flueThis piece comes solely from recordings made in the fireplace of my childhood home. I’ve spent the better part of my life in the area of Dayton, Ohio, but I don’t think I’ve ever spent more time seated by our brick fireplace than this past year. When I moved back home at the start of the pandemic, I had no idea about all the depression, frustration, fear, and grief I would struggle with here. Time kept moving forward, my world kept changing, and yet my surroundings stayed static. Of course, I couldn’t be more thankful to spend this confusing time with a loving family, and there were lots of days that I remember fondly. But that doesn’t stop it all from feeling very… weird.The Chimnopédie is an exploration, or rather a recontextualization, of the space I’ve become so used to seeing. From late February through early May, I made recordings sitting at the hearth and poking my head into the ash-covered fireplace. I shook the chain link screen, hit the interior with a metal pipe, and listened as a storm rattled through the length of the chimney. I pushed ashes around and captured my own rustling notebooks. But it was the first recording that served as the catalyst for this project as a whole. Back in February, my mom was explaining to me how, because the flue was left open, she had heard birds chirping on our roof through the fireplace. And sure enough, not long after, it happened again: a chorus of birds started to fill the space around us. In a rush, I grabbed my phone and stuck my arm up the chimney to record it. The phenomenon occurred again only one other time, a few days later. I thought to myself, oh, I already got a recording, but if it happens again later, I’ll try to get it with my shotgun mic. I had no clue at the time that now months later, I wouldn’t ever be blessed by the sound of birds that clearly and in that much abundance again. If I had known that the third time would be the last, I absolutely would have recorded again. But it’s that weird sense of regret, or even longing, that I wanted to show through the Chimnopédie.It’s a piece about repetition. It’s a piece about fear. Sadness, nostalgia, hope, isolation. I’ve been living in a state of waiting for so long, it’s gotten incredibly redundant. In the liminal space of a fireplace, I attempted to create a liminal auditory experience. I wouldn’t call it sound art, but it isn’t music either. It sits comfortably between the two, just as a chimney sits between a home and the outside world. At the hearth, I heard trucks passing by, homeowners doing yard work, and animals communicating. It’s a link to the outside world only accessible through sound, through paying close attention to the echoes coming in. As I recorded my voice, I wondered if the opposite were true: was I audible to anyone outside? Strangely enough, I found it unlikely.While not music itself, the piece does draw from a song, Erik Satie’s Gymnopédie No. 1. I picked this piece for a lot of personal reasons, but also thematic ones. It’s a song that has appeared in my life in multiple, bizarre instances, truly becoming like the “wallpaper music” that Satie later created; it’s a track that sits in the background of my life. As a precursor to modern ambient music, it is easy to listen to on repeat, making it effective in a loop without becoming overwhelming. As a famous song, it appears quite often if you look for it. But it’s hard to notice if you aren’t familiar because it’s so good at blending into its surroundings. It’s also one that’s ambiguous in meaning, giving anything it adorns both a positive and negative tone.That contrast, and the space between it, is where the Chimnopédie rests. In a world of black and white, right and wrong, heaven and hell, these liminal spaces can show up in the most unexpected of spots, as long as you take the time to seek them out. Though uncomfortable, as the unknown often is, I find it’s worth taking the time to explore those states of ambiguity and see how our view of them changes over time.
Video Samples
Social Media and Homelessness
Chloe Beck: Broadway's Very First Director of Equity, Diversity & Inclusion (co-produced by Angela Choe)
Centerville Jazz Band at the Macy's Parade (NYUNow)
A Return To Vibrancy: A Look At Dayton’s Latest Restoration Project (Cooper Squared)
Beekeeping in Ohio (Cooper Squared)
Graphics
EP covers:
These covers were created for an ensemble class in CAS's music program. Songs were collaborative efforts.