The Sound of Norwegian Spring - one of the main projects of Grieg 07 - is an
exhibition taking its inspiration from the Norwegian nature. Inthisinterview,
Steve Roden presents some of the ideas behind his work.
By Jørgen Larsson
curator
What were your expectations?
- I was very excited to be asked, since I have been wanting to go to Norway for
a long time. I develop a relationsip to certain things that is very personal,
that comes in through a backdoor. I find my route through a history or a material.
My knowlegde of Norway is almost exclusively through Knut Hamsun, especially the
way he talks about landscape. He talks very musically about listening to the landscape.
So my excpectations were to find out if my experience of the landscape mediated
though his writing would happen without him present.
- When I work, I don't approach information or experiences with a specific plan,
because then I think I am looking for something. And if I am looking for something,
I am excluding the potential of other things that I might find. I like left turns
to come up, to take me in another direction or to another place.
- I brought a bit
of equipment and Hamsun, but I have been inspired as much by listening to people
speak in Norwegian as I have by the landscape. I have spent time working with
languages I don't understand. I look at a word and try to figure out what it might
mean, based on no knowledge of the langauge. What I end up with is rarely a correct
translation, but I like what happens when these pathways can be followed, when
the work in progress is open enough to allow using things in ways they weren't
intended, allowing them to develop their own sense of poetry.
You work with a "double listening", the first being out in nature, without listening
to the recording, the second when you are back in the studio?
- I am not interested so much in capturing a specific sound, as I am interested
in recording a moment of experience. If I took three seconds of my 5 minute recording
in Grieg's cabin, where almost nothing really happens and almost nothing is audible
except a little bit of hiss; I would still have the mystical presence of that
space. a sound recording can be a tactile artifact of that moment, no matter how
much or little of it is used. Of course I am interested in the sounds i hear during
a recording experience, but I know for myself that very often the resulting recordings
are not that interesting to listen to later. The experience of being in a space
is what was moved me, and I want my work to evoke a similar depth of feeling in
others.
- Sometimes this involves using the initial material in an unrecognizable
way.
On the other hand, it is important that there is an integrity to the work, where
the ideas and initial moments and places exist as the skeleton of the work, even
though they might not seem part of its audible surface.
- If I played you the 5 minutes of Grieg's cabin, there's a good chance you would
find it uninteresting. In terms of a listening experience, it doesn't offer much. Because I want the finished work to evoke some of the depth
of feeling that i associate with the original experience, I have to be open to
working with the material almost like a sculptor.
- The idea is to try to pull something
out from inside of itself - to help the recorded moments begin to speak of their recording. It's a challenge,
particularly to do this and to keep the integrity of the recording intact; but
my interest is in making work that is built from an experience, rather than attempting
to replicate an experience photographically with sound.
- I want to create a situation where someone can listen to my own work in the
way
I responded to the original experience, where people can begin to listen to the
subtler kinds of audio activity they tend to ignore in their daily lives.