Sing … Singe
Earlid opens its doors entertaining two words: sing and singe. Sound artists were invited to participate and those who responded offer words, sounds and images to frame a virtual threshold.
Sing/Singe came about by swirling words in the mouth, across the tongue, rimming the ears. One word is resonant with joy or melancholy; the other, sinister, ashy. A single letter divides them and in some cases, they become fully audible (not simply a song being sung or the hiss of burning). In many instances there is a story or a space or metaphor confabulated of these words.
Inexplicably, we’re pulled towards these divisions and overlaps. They are superbly audible; stories unfurl and the body leans in closer. This opening of Earlid actually marks the first of annual Liminal Sounds invitations where artists are asked to consider a theme. It’s a kind of wishful listening feeding a curator’s inquiries and those of listener-visitors, such that a loop of curator-listener-practitioner evolves. Sing/Singe was, thus, born.
Earlid is an enfoldment of sounds upon stories upon bodies and imagined gallery rooms. Its virtual medium allows for a private listening experience that becomes crowded with listeners (“… and you tell someone about it, and they tell another, excitedly …”). Linger to discover a structure amidst the evanescent quality of sound itself, sutured together at this threshold.
Sing/Singe includes sound-only works—fully produced, immediate sketches and vocalized experiments. Text-driven artistry floats across the page as if it were ensounded. This opening prelude features newly inspired sonic gems; others are serendipitous investigations from across the span of years.
Thanks to the artists who responded to the inaugural invitation. Thanks to the listener-visitors: hear and read and see these singe-y and song-full ideas.
Artists featured in Sing/Singe:
—Joan Schuman, Earlid, winter 2015