Note: since initial publication, these piece has been augmented with quotes from Dan Kibke and Alex Varty.
What was that Nietzsche quote...? From Twilight of the Idols, I think: "Once and for all, there is a great deal that I do not wish to know. Wisdom sets bounds even to knowledge"
Don't tell that to Ioana Vreme Moser (that's the Vancouver New Music page; her official page is here. Photograph of her below by me).
At the end of last night's Vancouver New Music event with Moser, I turned to a friend whom I'd stumbled across -- after receiving a last-minute invite out -- and remarked that one thing I had learned beyond a doubt from the evening was that even basic information that is fundamental to actually understanding the world, no matter how simply, coherently and cogently it is laid out, can be extraordinarily intimidating if a) there is enough of it, b) you feel like you should know a great deal of it already; and yet c) all of it is totally new to you.
He said something back like, "I'm glad it's not just me."
Like, take a minute: what does a circuit board inside your cell phone look like? What minerals are used to manufacture each circuit? How many different minerals are there in your phone? Which of them are common? Which are rare earths? (What's a rare earth? I think there might be a rock band with that name, but that's the only association I have with the term. The band was not actually discussed last night, but rare earths were briefly explained, though I cannot replicate that explanation now. Incidentally, Alex Varty, on reading this, notes, "for some intriguingly fictionalized background on rare-earth mining and DIY electronics, I highly recommend the film Neptune Frost!"). And what about the material conditions under which the materials in question were harvested? Which of them come from conflict zones? What is the history of their mining? How bad were conditions in those mines? How does this connect to the history of the country (were the mine operators a colonizing force? Were the actual miners indigenous labour? Were they slaves? If they were paid, how much? What were the mined items used for by said colonizers, at the time?). Are these minerals toxic in one way or another? If so, how dangerous are they? What are the effects on miners, if particulate from the mine gets inhaled? What if it gets in the water supply?
You will be trying to process the answers to these questions, which, if you are like me, you have never even thought to ask before; but though each bit of information is clearly and cogently delivered, you will find that before these answers are firmly fixed in your understanding, that Moser has moved on, and you find yourself learning about the history of lead pipes, going back to the Roman Empire. Did you know once that people used to use lead as a sweetener, because added to liquid, it has a sweet quality? It was a bad idea.
And did you know that lead is actually just really old uranium that has lost its potency? What does that mean, exactly? (Who was it that said that if you really know something, you can explain it in simple terms? They might have been talking about Moser; she has done an amazing amount of homework to be able to do what she does).
The above captures maybe twenty minutes worth of material as Moser works her way forward from the first time one of the substances in question was mined (the gateway to her presentation was galena) to its use in communications technology. Shortly thereafter, you're learning about how radio frequencies work, Moser connecting the dots for you. How do we get from mined lead to a communicated signal? (How do sound waves travel when there is no wire to act as a conduit?). How does any of this material we take utterly for granted actually work?
Moser is not intending to make her presentation into a shamefest, does not set out to taunt you with your ignorance, and unlike me, above, poses no overt questions of her audience; she just tells you the information, guiding you along from one answer to the next, to questions you could have and should have asked before (but didn't). But regardless of her lucidity and lack-of-intent to one-up or shame the audience, to some extent, shame was still an effect for me, noted and analyzed as I became aware of it, and thus dispelled, but nonetheless briefly extant: a blush of embarrassment about how ignorant I am. Seeing how clearly Moser understands her stuff makes it feel like you should have thought about it yourself a bit, given that she's talking about technology you use every day.
Know here that normally, my actual understanding of how technology works runs only a few notches above the level of a cargo cult. It might as well be ghosts and magic. And I had done no homework; I was out thrifting under the influence of an Edison Jolt when I got my invitation to last night's event, and didn't actually intend to keep it, at first; it was by surprise that, as the event started, I was not far from the Annex, still out and about (I had thought to be home by that point, watching Frankenhooker, in fact). But I learned, as I tried to keep my mind on task, that at some point, ignorance becomes almost a self-defense strategy, because it just seems like every question one asks leads to an answer that touches on five more questions you do not know the answer to, some of which may actually have historical, political, environmental, or ethical implications; it will also just be so time-consuming, so mind-altering, so potentially life-complicating, to make it all make sense... How is the sausage made? (no, she did not go into sausages; I'm speaking figuratively).
By the half-hour mark of her presentation, Moser had completely overwhelmed me. I contemplated myself as Homer Simpson, dreaming of a donut, drooling. Occasionally my mind wandered (text the wife, also out, but not with me: is the cat with the neighbour?). Occasionally I just lost myself in the projected images and produced sounds. But the presentation was to some extent only the tip of things; Moser had actually come to town to guide other people in a multi-day workshop, a workshop which really is the work (to paraphrase something she said), going (we presume) into still greater depth on the matters discussed with the participants, and helping them in building their own circuits that can be used to generate... radio signals? Was that what was being generated? It all connected somewhere to radios, and causing oscillations... umm...
Dan Kibke, one of the participants -- his hands are pictured above, and he's in a few of these photos -- elaborates:
the device built in the workshop it's technically a crude oscillator using a diy makeshift transistor that relies on early principles of radio. If you want to get really technical it's a "zinc negative resistance oscillator" as explored by Nyle Steiner where Ioana took her practical jumping off point from.
He is much more well known for his other work in music technology with the invention of the EVI (electronic valve instrument) and subsequent EWI (electronic wind instrument) instruments and controllers which were designed to allow trumpet and wind players a familiar interface to play synthesizers with instead of a keyboard. The technology was first developed in the 70s and later licensed to Akai and Yamaha. He's also produced synthesizers such as the Synthacon and a modular.
https://www.patchmanmusic.com/NyleSteinerHomepage.html
If it was more of a talk than a performance, there was a sort of performative aspect to the end of the night, when all the workshop attendants joined Moser to produce sounds in "concert" with one another. One of them had invited me (thanks, Dan!). People prodded at things with things, and sounds were produced, with some participant's handmade radios (synthesizers? sound generators? circuit boards?) working better than others to make things oscillate, and some not working at all...
As I joined people on the floor to wander between performers, I reflected on my reaction: "Maybe I'm just ashamed of my stupidity?" Some people asked questions of the "performers," but typically, not knowing where to start, my grasp of the fundamentals of what I was seeing and what it meant so tenuous, despite having had it all explained at some length in advance, I just kept my mouth shut...
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I wonder what Moser makes of the barriers that make any of what she said less than common knowledge. Are we in some way, ala Nietzsche, afraid to ask these questions? Is there a conspiracy among the figurative sausage-makers to discourage these questions? Were there any barriers she faced, herself, getting from one point to another -- lessons she had to learn about our protective bubbles of ignorance, in bursting them? Were any of the new understandings in any way threatening to her? Why is it more frightening to know how the technology in your pocket works (and where its constituent parts come from) than it is to be dependent on technology you don't understand at all? And how has her work changed her consumption of technology?
It was a phenomenally useful inquiry. I do not know the content of her website, but I would hasten there to explore it, if this is of interest, because I am sure there is a lot more to be learned there than here. Made for an unexpected, fascinating night out. Note: I did ask her if she has any thoughts of offering her workshop virtually, but there are challenges, as part of what she does involves getting hands-on with people's circuitry. So people who attended were fortunate indeed.
It was nice to see Heather and Giorgio of Vancouver New Music again, too! It was the first Vancouver New Music event I had seen in years, and a fascinating and provocative one. There is more in this series to come -- from computer sentience with a (decaying) twist to hand-built African analogue synths with parts scavenged from computer repair shops (sounds like the film Neptune Frost might actually be good "advance homework" for that... hm). Both nights will doubtlessly feature artist talks as compelling as this evening's. Check them out...?
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