I have been reading “Sound Design” by David Sonnenschein and enjoying it very much. He writes about listening to your inner ear while reading a script or simply meditating on an idea, and then using the results to inspire your work.
I’m reading it because I’m working on the score and sound design for a documentary on Canada’s relationship to emerging democracies, and part of the objective of the film is to get viewers in Canada thinking about our own democracy, and what it means to be Canadian.
It’s a neat way to approach a person’s deep feelings about a place. By listening to your inner soundscape, it gives you access to a place’s hidden mythology. Not the stories you learn in history books and in public service announcements, but the stuff underneath it all. I did a quick query on twitter to ask what came to mind when people thought about Canada, and they talked about the sound of loons, of bottles opening and lighters sparking. I thought of majestic horns and a busy street with many languages spoken at once, though I suppose I was cheating a bit because I was also looking at images from a Canada Day parade just before.
I’d love to hear others’ thoughts on this, whether you are Canadian or not. When you think of Canada, what sounds enter your inner soundscape? Or if you are from somewhere else, what sounds come to mind when you think of your home country? What about America? Tanzania? Ukraine?
12:30am Friday night, backpack loaded up with my laptop, portable sound recorder and headphones. I stashed my lifejacket under a canoe and walked out to the woodyard to say hi to some friends who were partying out in the shacks. Big moon in the sky, gusting winds, intensity in the air.
Left soon after to make my way back to the canoe and bumped into Matthew, who was being kind enough to let me use the Icarus for a night to record some vocals. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. I’m not that strong a paddler on my own, and the waters were looking mighty rough. He agreed to walk with me to the dock and scope out the situation, then wait to make sure I got across.
One look and we both agreed it was not safe. Since Matthew had a motorboat, I asked if he could take me across then I could hitchhike back the next day. While at first he sounded into it, he started to change his mind, and suggested waiting until a simpler night. I reluctantly agreed, and as he was explaining further something caught my eye and I gasped.
“Matthew look up!!”
Right over our heads, the northern lights danced in a swirling ball of light. They don’t usually look like that – they tend to stretch out across the sky, and while I’ve seen them dance, I’d never seen them dance like this. Lots of colors too – green, some pinks even. We watched them quietly for about 15 seconds and then they disappeared entirely.
“Okay, I’ll go get the boat.” he said, and walked away.
“Waiting for Winter” outside the museum in Fort Smith. Big thanks to Mike for taking the video, then being thoughtful enough to send me an email about it.
… has been lingering for some time now. Vivid images of driving a car, music and camping gear in the back seat, a big happy dog with its head out the window. And although I suspect Yellowknife will be home for a long time, I think it may be time to go wandering again soon, at least for a little while.
My uncle and I have decided to work together on the album, and I’m really excited about it. I can’t leave the north until it’s finished. This I know for sure, deeply and fully.
Rick was kind enough to give me a lift to Fort Smith on Thursday, and as we talked about friendship, love and how important it is to truly believe in someone (and have someone believe in you!), we drove through the wildest storm clouds I have ever seen. I took these with my iphone and haven’t edited them at all.
Completely sleep-deprived, two weeks to score a feature-length documentary while working full-time. Asking friends on twitter for snacking advice, as in, what are the best snacks for when you have to stay up late working and not get distracted? So far everything from energy drinks and Doritos to almonds mentioned. Fred recommended this article on low-glycemic foods. I think I manage high-intensity stress by trying to stay as healthy as possible. I guess it is better for you than drinking, though sometimes I get a little too serious. I’d love to hear more people’s thoughts on dealing with this kind of scenario.
I’m also leaving on Thursday morning to play at the South Slave Friendship Festival in Fort Smith, a Northern community of about 2500 close to the Alberta border. Fortunately they have been very accommodating and are sending me home on Sunday morning so I can keep working on the score, but in the meantime I’m sure there will be plenty of non-serious fun. And jamming! I have heard nothing but wonderful things about this festival, and I’m delighted that I can still go.
so um, in conclusion, things are awesome but man am I tired. can’t wait to share some developments on the album side too. please send snack suggestions!
recorded with my Sony PCM-D50 at Le Frolic Bistro Bar, June 19, 2010.
Vince Gauthier on guitar, Ryan Donnelly on keys, and Shawn MacLellan on bass. If anyone has photos from that night, please email me, I’d love to see them! This was Ryan’s last gig before leaving town. Unfortunately our ridiculous version of “My Funny Valentine” was not recorded… boo. But I suppose some things are best experienced in the moment.
Life in the Knife has been pretty splendid lately, though I have to admit a part of me sincerely enjoyed being computer-less for as long as I was. However, projects must be finished and a computer is absolutely necessary for this to happen.
Tina Roy & I in Hay River - photo credit: Randy Randle
That being said, I’ve been feeling super driven musically speaking, and there aren’t enough hours in a day to do all the practicing, performing and recording I want to do, so it is also very good to have gear again. Had a few stellar jams with my friend Pete, who promptly left town, but managed to record some electric guitar on Will O Wisp before he left, and he’s going to lay down a few tracks while roadtripping to Louisiana as well. This album becomes more of a wandering record each day. It is pretty great.
In the meantime, have been backing up Tina Roy here and there, and we went to Hay River to play a music festival together not too long ago. She was the talk of the town, and we were interviewed for the French magazine “L’Aquilon“.
Association Franco-Culturelle de Hay River
Hay River is about a five hour drive from Yellowknife. It felt a lot like the maritimes, especially with the big Acadian mural outside the Association franco-culturelle de Hay River, and a beach that could easily have been in Clare, Nova Scotia, but is actually on the shore of an enormous lake.
beach in Hay River
camping with Summer
Here in Yellowknife, summer is in full swing, and myself and my two very beautiful lady neighbours have declared that we must squeeze the juice out of every day. Summer and I have been swimming in the Great Slave Lake every day, and on Sunday night paddled out to a small island for a spontaneous camping trip. Other evenings are spent sitting on their tower of a sun porch watching incredible lightning storms and helping each other grow in the deepest of ways. They are such wise women, and I feel so blessed to have them in my life.
sunset before wild storm, from Lindsey and Summer's sun porch
The music continues, and you can expect to see more frequent updates from now on.
Just a quick update from a friend’s computer, as mine has been in the shop and likely will be for at least another week or so. One of the downsides to living in Yellowknife, it turns out, is that when your laptop needs repairs you have to send it to Edmonton in the mail and then hope that one of your friends happens to be going that way not too long afterwards. Kind of brutal.
I’ve been taking lots of audio, some from a concert with the Da Visha Jazz Ensemble, some storytelling with a fascinating elderly couple living off the grid in the bush near Blackstone Park, NT. Unfortunately I’m a bit short on resources until my laptop gets back, so it’s a bit problematic sharing this stuff until then.
There’s been some pretty exciting stuff happening though, backing up the wonderful Tina Roy at the Hay Days Festival in Hay River this weekend, and singing with YK Transfer, an a cappella jazz quartet at Folk on the Rocks. More details to come, I just didn’t want people to think that I’d suddenly gotten swallowed by a pickerel or something. For more frequent updates in the meantime, or especially if you enjoy photos of life in Yellowknife and the rest of the NT, please follow me on twitter.
Something has clicked with the ice melting, suddenly my relationship to this place has changed. I am aware of the silence, and the absence of a connection to the grid that stretches across the globe, my heart leaps when I come in the door.
I had an inspiring conversation with the lovely Tina Roy the other day, and realized that even though things are a bit of a slog right now, this is actually exactly what I came here to do: experience houseboat life, reconnect with the wilderness, music. Feeling reaffirmed.
I travel around North America and play music and am interested in a whole bunch of projects ranging from songwriting to musique concrète to instrumental composition. I love stories, the woods and pianos.
Right now I'm working on an album of folk songs and a radio drama off the grid in Slab City, California. If you like what I'm about, please follow me on twitter or join the mailing list.
