Dec 2024
Dear friends,
Those of you who have been receiving these newsletters for the last years will know that as the days grow dark in December I turn my creative thoughts to the tradition of dark winter music that spans back centuries and add a new annual recording to my ever-growing ‘Christmas’ collection on bandcamp. For me it’s a kind of antidote to all the crass commodification of this season that overwhelms me, it feels sometimes like I’m drowning in late capitalism, with all its flashing screens, over-produced music and its never-ending push to constantly be ‘productive’ (whatever that means)….
I find great richness in drawing back to the traditions of darkness, of obscurity, sometimes baffled and bruised, but seeking some meaning in the time when nothing is growing, the nights long and cold, and we need poetry, melody and human solidarity more than ever. Its a quiet thing, not shouted from the rooftops of the city, but whispered at a low octave from a humble place. And these days I feel like being quiet is a rebel act.
IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER (WITH GAMELAN SPRÉACHA GEALA)
This year’s addition to the collection grew out of a season of making collaborations with the Gamelan Spréacha Geala (‘bright sparks’ in Irish) ensemble based in the nearby town of Skibbereen. This year we did quite a few performances together at various local festivals and in all the rehearsals preparing different pieces of music, we made this lovely recording of the old English winter carol ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’, with many of the players using bows on the bronze instruments to create a shimmering, ghostly resonance. It really feels like the cold has dampened down all resonance and only quiet shimmers and the ringing of bells can be heard. I am also delighted that my son Ari played on this recording as one of the ensemble!
The whole collection can be downloaded at www.bandcamp.com/justingrounds and I will be giving any proceeds from downloads to Musicians Without Borders, a charity supporting music teachers and music therapists in Gaza to keep making music with kids throughout the devastation they are living through.
LIVE IMPROVISATION FROM UILLINN DANCE SEASON
At the end of October I brought together my collaborators Yonit Kosovske (harpsichord), Sarah Groser (viola da gamba), Vlad Smishkewych (percussion) and the wonderful Chloé Pisco (contemporary dancer) to put on a full concert program as the final performance of the Uillinn Dance Season here in West Cork, Ireland. As well as playing works by contemporary composers Will Ayton, Fiona Linane and Brooke Green, we also performed the premiere of our multi-media piece ‘Seams in my Socks’ and my work ‘Triple Spiral’ to end. But there was a magical moment right at the beginning of the concert when Sarah, Chloé and myself decided to open the show with an improvisation. Luckily Vlad caught it all on two cameras, and I’m delighted to share it with you here.
With huge thanks for the continued support from my patreon community, who contribute the price of a cup of coffee per month and enable me to document and create recordings, videos, behind-the-scenes rehearsal footage, and of tips and ideas from my own practice. Their funds helped me to put together this film and many more, and even more than that it is a really strengthening feeling for an independent artist like myself to know that there is a community of people supporting me morally, as well as with their subscriptions. It helps me in the lonely moments in the studio when the work feels overwhelming and I am lost for a direction! So THANK YOU PATRONS! (And if you’d like to get yourself a Christmas present, and support me too, do consider joining and being a part of the process of making all this music)
THIS YEAR’S EXPERIMENT
After reading books like ‘Digital Minimalsim’ by Cal Newport and ‘How to do Nothing’ by Jenny Odell, I decided at the beginning of 2024 to try an experiment in ‘re-analoging’. I’ve become more and more aware of the ways the technologies which seemed so promising 10 years ago have become tarnished by the ways the tech companies have tweaked them to extract the maximum profit out of us, the ‘users’. Social media is just noise to me, a huge cacophony of opposing voices all shouting over the others, and the endless scroll is a recipe for killing our ability to concentrate and spend time well. The smartphone (which in its original form was an excellent iPod/phone combo) has become an object of extreme addiction, robbing us of our ability to have silence, down-time, boredom, reflection. And email…..don’t get me started! (Except this lovely newsletter habit!)
Like a growing number of people around the world, I wanted to see how it would be to rediscover some of the older technologies that have been brushed aside in the race for newness. It made me think - why do I love the baroque violin? It’s a design that found its apex in about 1720 and after that, anything added to the design cost too much for what it was able to gain. Like the baroque bow - sure, a modern bow is longer, heavier, more adjustable, but the characteristic of sound and phrasing that is lost in this race for volume and sustain just isn’t worth it in my opinion.
So I started asking this question about lots of the new and in-vogue technologies - what does this convenience cost me? I decided to abscond from all social media (beautiful silence instead of noise!) and instead concentrate my efforts in writing and sharing this monthly newsletter - where I can delve into things more meaningfully, and only for you, my dear readers, but not everyone and everywhere. I decided to get back to my old hobby of writing handwritten letters to people I hadn’t seen in some time. The slowness of the task, and the smooth flow of my Lamy fountain pen, meant it became a sort of meditation, a prayer conjuring up that person into my solitude, with all the memories and love that exist there. And the fact that if I ever did receive a response it wouldn’t be instantaneous, only highlighted the dopamine addiction we have to ‘likes’. I found that I wasn’t needing responses or validations, but that the process was enough to satisfy me.
I bought a flip-phone (albeit one that allows WhatsApp - something which one can’t seem to escape) and just keep on it the apps for messaging and telephone. It became a useful tool again, and I got to start carrying around my beloved Fuji X100 camera and taking photographs for the love of it -printing them and sending them as cards. I have even enjoyed recording outside of the DAW box, live and onto an SD card, or onto my reel to reel tape machine, and find that my mind is more in the flow of the performance, without the need to sync to the click or grid that a DAW defaults to. I’m more keen than ever now to expand my studio to have a 16 track tape machine and offer people that older recording experience.
My first selfie, medium format Ilford film, circa 2002
Have I become a luddite? I don’t think so. My life has become quieter, less harried, more thoughtful. I’m enjoying the technologies that enrich me - like a fountain pen, a violin, a book or a tape machine. I like technology, but am much more discerning about how it can serve me, or hinder me. And in a world where everything is available at all times I’m wondering if it all just loses it’s value? Sometimes things that need a bit of work are far more rewarding.
The moment that reaffirmed it all for me was going to see one of my favourite bands ‘Godspeed You! Black Emperor’ in Dublin in September. They had battered old amps and well-used pedal boards and made such glorious, powerful, joyful and terrifying music in the moment, together, as an ensemble. But the best part of all was standing next to the four 16mm film projectors, and witnessing the projectionist manipulate homemade film loops in real time, sometimes holding the film static so the celluloid burned and melted on the lens, all projected onto the band. There was something so real, so tangible and moving about the whole experience, that I’ve never felt with digital laptop projections. It took so much work, but it was worth it, and powerful.
So my experiment has become a lifestyle and a joyful and quiet one at that.
I wish you peace and rest over the Christmas break - and hopeful things for 2025.
With love
Justin