﷯ life ﷯ going outside ﷯ some releases ﷯ some work ﷯
25 February 2021, 7.30PM Nearly a year since the UK's belated first Covid19 Lockdown, a live-streamed première of Caroline Kraabel's film, London 26 and 28 March 2020: imitation: inversion from Cafe Oto, London, followed by a live-streamed trio perfomance featuring Kraabel with John Edwards and Maggie Nicols. London 26 and 28 March 2020: imitation: inversion This film started as 40 minutes of shots of London during the first UK Covid 19 Lockdown (the strict phase of which began on 23 March 2020). These were taken on a phone during permitted exercise (cycling), just to have a record of the unfamiliar stillness, the emptiness of our city at a time we will now, inevitably, have ingrained in our memories for its sudden difference, and for the surfacing of fear, grief, and love it brought about. Quiet streets: who was missing, who was still there – what was revealed when the tide of sound and activity went out? The shots from 26 March are “imitated”. On the alto saxophone Kraabel recreated and recorded as many as possible of the original sounds from the (poor-quality) phone-audio, and thus replaced the original audio. The shots from 28 March replace the original audio, too, but are “inverted”; in a definable way they are the OPPOSITE of the actual sounds recorded on the phone: Using 'ducking' of the original soundtrack, Kraabel made a chordal music that is loud where the original sound was quiet (which is most of the time), and high-pitched where the original sound was low: a sort of hollow mould, or impression, of the original. Very many of the same sorts of sound occurred on the original audio in both parts of the film; this is still evident, perhaps even emphasised, in the very different results produced by these two approaches. Made possible in part by support from UNCOOL, Poschiavo and Arts Council England; many thanks to both organisations. LIVE TRIO PERFORMANCE: Nicols Edwards Kraabel Maggie Nicols, voice, tap John Edwards, double bass Caroline Kraabel, saxophones Lockdown and distancing have necessarily made the intimate social bliss of live music with a live audience impossible, as musicians everywhere have taken on the responsibility of NOT performing live, NOT getting together to play, while trying to find some way of continuing to communicate and, if possible, survive. Negative capability. Maybe improvisers are uniquely well placed to explore this, and maybe it's particularly painful for musicians who make improvisation their lives. https://www.cafeoto.co.uk/events/film-screening-kraabel-nicols-edwards/

 

3 November 2020

Alone in Switzerland.

Three weeks in residence at the UNCOOL house in Poschiavo, Switzerland, including ten days of self-isolation. An unusually long (for me) period of uninterrupted solitude and work. After practice and before work on street noises I often record short pieces, using not street noise, but simple material. The wood-panelled room has a beautiful warm sound.

Heartfelt thanks to Cornelia Müller, UNCOOL, and Arts Council England.

 

 

https://carolinekraabel.bandcamp.com/album/alone-in-switzerland

 

October 2020

Going Outside: Observation and reproduction.

 Since lockdown began, towards the end of March, I’ve been thinking even more about the sounds of the streets, planning some work that a project grant from Arts Council England has now made possible.

 I’ve been walking and playing the saxophone in London for twenty years, but now I wanted to concentrate on listening and relaying what I heard as closely as possible. I planned four saxophonic walks, one in each quadrant of London, to begin to learn and reflect the sounds around me – sounds that have kept shifting their make-up and densities over the past seven months. To hear a sound is one thing, but to really understand it I have to try to play it.

 Having read that wind instruments, or even enthusiastic speech, might increase the spread of potentially dangerous airborne droplets, I made a mask or veil that covers my nose and mouth as well as the entire saxophone, but still allows me to play.

 I recorded the walks so I could listen back and work out how to do better. The first two walks (South and West) didn’t go too badly – in south London there was a lovely dog barking in F#, and a lot of variety in the sounds (ventilation shafts, traffic, construction work, birds), though only a scattering of human voices. In west London it was all motor vehicles, and very difficult to come even close to capturing with the saxophone, but the challenge was productive.

 A few days later I set out to play towards the east, planning to go from Blackfriars Station to the City near London Bridge. I began timidly, having realised that while the sax-mask doesn’t hinder my playing at all, it makes it harder for people to understand what’s going on (like face-masks do), and although no one had yet objected, their bemusement was often evident in a new way, different from the reactions to walks where the sax was visible. Maybe this is also to do with the long months of worry, uncertainty and fear taking the elasticity out of all of us, making us more prone to irritation and impatience.

 I had chosen the route for the tunnels there, which sound so beautiful. As I was approaching the end of the first of these – a cycle tunnel, parallel to the tunnel for cars that does not allow for pedestrians – just playing isolated mimicking sounds and enjoying the echoes of the traffic and the sax, a tall, very disgruntled man approached me at speed from a small empty access road sloping in from the left. He was holding an electric iron and swearing at me, radiating anger. He threw it at my head, and I managed to dodge, then he pushed me over, trying to pull the saxophone away from me, and succeeding in grabbing the mouthpiece and throwing it to the far side of the road. Fortunately, in part because I had the sax case on my back like a carapace, I was able to keep the sax safe and scramble away, running to where the iron had landed (he had had the same idea) and picking it up to keep him from getting it back and clobbering me. All along, my front was draped in this sort of white curtain/mask.

 Several cyclists were approaching; I went into the path and waved at them. The first just looked at me oddly, but the second one stopped; both had to have seen me being pushed to the ground. He asked if I was OK.

 – He attacked me!

 – Don’t you know him?

 My mind boggled to some extent at the assumptions behind this, but maybe the somehow excusable domestic dispute is easier to conceive than the veiled ambulant saxophonist ambushed by disturbed (in several senses – he obviously objected to my contribution to the soundscape) person.

 With the cyclist standing by, I went and recovered my mouthpiece, miraculously unchipped, and he walked with me a little way down the road, out of the tunnel in the mouth of which my assailant remained standing, looking after us. I was still holding the iron. A bit farther there was a church with a City of London rubbish bin in front of it that had a sort of pivoting container for a mouth. I’ve never seen such a bin before, but it was perfect for disposing of the iron safely. The cyclist carried on (thank you, whoever you are) and so did I, discovering that I’d hurt my left hand – not badly – and that my sax was playable but damaged in two places. I kept going for another half-hour or so, coaxing out an increasing range of possible sounds, initially very shaky but eventually feeling better, and good to still be playing (relieved).

 Having to take my sax to be mended delayed the fourth walk, but it played smoothly when we did it, and the walk was joyous.

 

 

 

https://carolinekraabel.bandcamp.com/album/going-outside-observation-and-reproduction-october-2020

﷯Resonance FM is eighteen years old! The same age as my child, with whom I 'took a life for a walk' live on this radio station every week for several years from that first week in May 2002. The lives I took for walks back then are following their own routes now... and 'live' is what this programme is NOT... instead it's my attempt, knowing that the sounds of this would be heard by people living (as am I) during a pandemic, to find a worthwhile and related response to the honour of being asked to celebrate Resonance FM, and to the specific time in which this anniversary occurs. Like many people in the UK, I have earned nothing since mid- March. Unlike some, because being an improvising performing musician depends on a live audience and I wouldn't want to be responsible in any way for exposing people to this novel virus, it's unlikely I'll be able to return to live performance until there is a treatment and/or a vaccine against Covid 19. What I'm doing now is taking my daily exercise, without a mask, but staying away from people, and improvising as I walk. As we have all discovered, there are some positive effects of pandemic existence. Just the fact of staying apart is an index of our caring for each other – and there's much less pollution and traffic, though both are starting to increase in my patch of south London. Almost no planes, what a joy. Will I be willing, or indeed able, to forego flying and driving later on? I certainly feel even more inclined to do so. This crisis has also hardened the prejudice against old people that is already so prevalent. Initially they were being sacrificed to an untried right-wing plan summed up as 'Herd immunity; protect the economy; if some pensioners die, too bad', and now both staff and residents in care homes appear to have been abandoned to their fate. This lack of consideration is a concomitant of the view that has been dominant for 40 years: that the only measure of a person's worth is financial, and thus that people who are what they call 'economically inactive' (though in fact there is no such state) are worthless. I don't even want to go down the path of justifying WHY old people (or any other category of humans) are of the same value as others , because that in itself smacks of exclusion or special pleading. The point is that in human society the only and ultimate valid measure of worth is our shared humanity, which means that when we downgrade 'others' among our fellow humans – because they are old, or poor, female, foreign, disabled, of a specific ethnicity or religion – we downgrade OURSELVES. May this virus vaccinate us all against being greedy and selfish, and against the essentially flawed and damaging extremist neo-liberal capitalism that, through its disregard for the planet and for human equality, has brought the pandemic about. Happy 18th Birthday, Resonance 104.4 FM. Text for saxophonic and radiophonic perambulation undertaken by Caroline Kraabel as part of approved outdoor exercise period on Monday 27 April pandemic year 2020.

15 October 2019, early afternoon.

Going Outside, Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens.

 

Alerted by the dull unvarying drone of helicopters circling, walked with my sax to the Extinction Rebellion camp whose occupants, lawful and peaceful protesters, were being evicted by police resorting to Section 14 of the Public Order Act of 1986.

https://greenandblackcross.org/guides/laws/2-section-12-14/

I had already been playing, just put coat on over sax and went out. Walking through the back streets towards Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens the sonic landscape was dominated by the two circling helicopters, whose pitch hovered (yes, thanks!) around a D. Interesting texturally, but overly dominant, and going on far too long. Hours later I can still hear them overhead, which makes me aware how the sounds of state control can contribute to an atmosphere of fear.

As I get within a couple of streets there are dozens of police vans parked in long lines. The white vans of the Met and some dark blue vans – Tactical Support Group (who are they ?).

I start playing different sounds from my head a bit more, since chiming in with helicopters only makes their dominance worse. In the park many tents are already gone, leaving squares of pale green against darker green grass, decorative, Klimtesque. Not much mud or churned-up ground. Portaloos have been there for a couple of days because Lambeth Council gave protesters permission to camp, but they’re now being removed.

People: protesters and police (present in their hundreds), and bystanders, workers, locals, all standing around. A few tents are still up, and those inside are being spoken to by groups of police officers who are trying to persuade them to leave. Pinned onto the tents are notices saying they have been there over 48 hours, and claiming squatters rights, which means (in theory) police need a court order to evict them.

Otherwise, campers have packed up or are packing. There’s no litter, people are collecting it very carefully. Much tidier than, say, a festival site, or even Hyde Park on a summer Sunday morning. One of the protesters tells me he will take his stuff to a ‘safe house’ and keep protesting. Another says that some tents belonging to people who are in other parts of London protesting have been taken down by police, and the owners will find it hard or impossible to track down their stuff. I play Going Home. Voices, all quiet, snatches of music.

A suited cyclist stands astride his bike at one end of the path, motionless and dismayed: how will he get through? He looks frightened, which is hard to understand. Other people are wheeling their bikes through the straggly crowd… On my left a van and some hi-vizzed and hard-hatted workmen:

‘Play some PROPER music !’

‘Get a job !’

So I go over to them. Nothing to lose, right?

 ‘Did one of you say something to me?’

 ‘It was him (hahaha)!’

Older guy walks away, leaving four of them. One says, ‘Yeah, but what’s the point? It’s the USA and China that do all the polluting, nothing we do will make any difference.’

 ‘That’s like saying it’s OK for you to hit someone if you’ve seen other people doing it.’

‘But look, they’re killing the grass, look – it’s all yellow.’

‘That’s not true, it grows back just fine when you uncover it. Not like a tree when it gets cut down.’

‘You can just plant another tree.’

‘Isn’t it better to save the tree AND plant a tree?’

‘But are you a vegan?’

‘I am, actually, but this is just whataboutery.’

‘Yeah but where are you from?’ (Ah, here we go, I think)

‘I’m British.’

‘But where are you FROM?’

‘I’ve been British for fifty years (I exaggerated, it’s actually forty) – where are YOU from?’

‘Bexley.’

‘Can you look at yourself in the mirror if you don’t do something to stop climate change – for yourself, your kids, your grandchildren?’

‘My grandchildren will be FINE. It’s China, it’s the USA, it makes no difference what we do.’

‘But look! On your van! It says ‘Metal Recycling’ (true, it does, pictures of folded metal strips) – that makes a difference!’

‘Oh that, yeah. We recycle plastic, too, ‘cos it’s expensive. It’s a start, isn’t it.’ (Quit while we’re ahead, I think)

‘THANKS SO MUCH!’

I carry on, twittering from nerves. People staying in their tents, helpers with ‘legal support’ written on their tabards, manifestos of peaceful protest and positive suggestions… some people are packed and getting ready to leave. I hope they have someplace to go.

I meet a friend, who lives around the corner and came when she heard the helicopters. Like me, she’s not a member of ER, just a concerned supporter:

‘I’m just keeping an eye on this stuff (a BIG tarpaulin, piled with bags, tents, frames for marquees, etc.), because it belongs to people who are off protesting.’ (At the Department for Transport, maybe.)

So, after two circuits I head for home. The TSG vans are lined up nearest the park, and their occupants seem to be swapping places with the ordinary police, many of whom are returning to their vans. I spot four doing a sort of dance together outside their van, kicking their feet out forward and bouncing their heels on the ground. I guess trying to get mud off their shoes. This is quite fun to mimic and play along with.

Walk home. People sing to me and I sing back. Helicopter overrides us. About an hour later I get a call – the police are hauling people out of their tents. Old, young, they’re being dragged out, unresisting, and handcuffed before being taken away. Even though, I know, they have a lot of support, it must be lonely and frightening.

 

 

© Giuseppe Tamponi

Caroline Kraabel is an improviser: Going Outside.

 

On 28 March 2019 at 12.45 I walked to Westminster, with saxophone, to hear and play through the sounds around the parliament buildings. So many sounds. The chewy shifty human sounds of busy streets, elusive as they slide past : engines in motion, walkers, piper on the bridge. Often their complexity and density boggles the ear, the playing sense – like translating a dance, a lake into mere words. Turn the corner to walk along the front of the parliament building, see the memorial stone for the policeman, Keith Palmer, killed almost exactly two years ago, a few hours after I’d crossed this same bridge in the same way, just getting on with my own life. The stone is new, clean, beflowered. Touching.

Hordes of people. Some on traffic island with megaphones, howling for brexit. Man in yellow vest (I did not realise until this moment of writing that it might have had some significance) approaches me– a suspension, curiosity, sniffing at me like a dog… but deciding there is only one possible response, ‘Are you with us or against us?’ I just played, as I had decided – here to listen and play, not to speak. TRAITOR TRAITOR TRAITOR he shouts and keeps shouting, TRAITOR TRAITOR, again and again, tentatively slapping at the bell of my saxophone. I play or reflect his sounds back at him and after a last slap, easily evaded (but a jolt to bell can cost teeth) he turns away disgusted. Carry on. No one else says anything though a few stare or laugh, at him, at me… Farther down on the other side of the road the pro-Europe demonstrators stand, ranks of flags blue and gold, blue and red and white. A man’s voice hoarse keeps slowly shouting S T O P  B R E X I T… but I don’t see him, he’s elsewhere. I leave the obvious indicators of conflict behind and try to hear engines again, their glissandi, density of coloured sound, shifting harmonics. Tiny scraps of birdsong appear in any gaps – I’m walking past Victoria Tower Gardens. Spring, after all. (Re-) birth of what ? I write this 36 hours later and the people and government of the ‘U’ K seem exponentially more divided even than yesterday. For 40 years, inequality has been carefully nurtured and anything standing in its way ruthlessly disposed of. Now these few days during which the Tory Government’s poorly realised spectacle of venality, self-interest and refusal to listen, based on the true story behind their accumulation of affluence and power for the few, could be the fulcrum for a drastic and very rapid change for the worse, as the most aggressive, thoughtless and unscrupulous seize upon their scapegoats and the vacuous moment.

29 March 2019

Some elements of Kraabel's work during the Covid19 pandemic can be seen in this short film, prepared for a remote RCA lecture.

Day Night, a full-length duo in two halves, with John Edwards, recorded in lockdown on 12/15 May 2020 and released on the Takuroku label from Cafe Oto. https://www.cafeoto.co.uk/shop/john-edwards-caroline-kraabel-day-night/ Piece for radio and live: 27 April 2020: Going Outside (Happy Birthday Resonance 104.4 FM) https://carolinekraabel.bandcamp.com/track/27-april-2020-going-outside-happy-birthday-resonance-1044-fm 28 June 2020: You Can't Afford This. In two versions, both with words by Caroline Kraabel. Music on You Can't Afford This by CK; music on You Can't Afford This 2 by John Edwards. https://carolinekraabel.bandcamp.com/album/you-cant-afford-this For the London Improvisers Orchestra, which was, for the first time, obliged in April 2020 to cancel the monthly live performances of large-group improvised music that they have been doing for nearly 22 years, Caroline Kraabel created or devised several pieces for digital release. Kraabel piece for LIO, April 2020: We Stay Apart Because We Love Each Other. Love Is Stronger Than Greed. https://londonimprovisersorchestra.bandcamp.com/track/we-stay-apart-because-we-love-each-other-love-is-stronger-than-greed Kraabel-devised pieces for LIO June 2020: Chain Reactions https://londonimprovisersorchestra.bandcamp.com/album/chain-reactions Kraabel piece for LIO July 2020: Together Alone Together Alone For London Improvisers Orchestra in pandemic isolation, in lieu of live performance on Sunday 5 July 2020. Devised, prepared, conducted and combined by Caroline Kraabel (Vauxhall). 'I miss the glorious web of connections formed by the London Improvisers Orchestra improvising together live. Could some aspects of those connections be maintained even if we didn't hear or see each other? For ten days I visited LIO musicians in lockdown, or on video-call, in order to conduct each of them in their own version of a score, broken up into 30-second segments, each having a single cue (not necessarily the same order for all the musicians). Memories, the experience of having played together, and great skill at improvisation made these segments recorded in isolation into something that, when combined (the parts were simply aligned to start at the same time), sounds recognisably like the LIO. It was a privilege to be able to see everyone, and to hear the miraculous synchronicity and surprises in the music.' https://londonimprovisersorchestra.bandcamp.com/track/together-alone
Sunday 19 April 2020-Monday 20 April 2020 A human life is an improvisation: interacting with its times, pushing up against them to make space for itself… And disappearing as it unspools, until the thread leaves the reel and drops away. Reproductions may remind the living of an improvisation, or of a life, that is finished, but they do not preserve it. UNSUNG: Eight short alto saxophone pieces recorded from 09h00-09h30 on Sunday 19 April 2020, in London, UK. The recordings were never heard, but the sound-wave image of each (or part of it) was copied manually onto paper before the saxophone playing on each piece was completely muted and discarded unheard. The beginnings and endings of most of the pieces are signalled by an (audible) hand-clap. See also: This Recorded Music is for the Ears of Dead People Only.
 In isolation March-April 2020. New Kraabel work on Bandcamp: Breath Clock 4 April 2020, 
for alto saxophone and clock.
In 2019 CK translated (from French to English) several poems by Antonia Soulez (http://www.antoniasoulez.fr/), some of which appear in this anthology (https://vihang.org/anthologies/). Kraabel and Soulez collaborate on performances of poems with improvised music in 2020.
 In Summer 2019 Kraabel recorded with guitarist Daniel Thompson (https://www.danielthompsonguitar.com/) and dancer Max Reed for a forthcoming audio release. The session was photographed by Roland Ramanan; video here: https://vimeo.com/372849444 In October 2019, Caroline Kraabel toured the Sao Paulo region with the Women's Improvising Group, convened by Maggie Nicols under the auspices of Sesc Jazz. https://sescjazz.sescsp.org.br/2019/10/mulheres-na-musica/
Summer 2019 sees the release of MARCH, a duo CD featuring Caroline Kraabel with Neil Metcalfe (flute), recorded with great care and finesse by Philipp Wachsmann and lightly mixed by John Edwards. The entire session is on the CD in the order in which it was played; titles come from Edwards Thomas's poem, March. Duos have been important in 2019, including duo collaborations with Pascal Marzan, Pei-Ann Yeoh, Dee Byrne, Daniel Thompson, Emily Shapiro, Max Reed and Solène Weinachter. A treasured opportunity to play in a quartet with Neil Metcalfe, Louis Moholo and John Edwards was welcome. In 2019 Caroline Kraabel featured on the Aural Terrains CD release Music for Baritone Saxophone, Bass Clarinets and Electronics, with Thanos Chrysakis, Jason Alder and Joni Silver 
http://auralterrains.com/releases/40 2019 Kraabel CD LAST1 and LAST2, released on the EMANEM label, featuring live large-group and quartet versions of Kraabel’s piece LAST, for improvisers with occasional interjections from the pre-recorded voice of Robert Wyatt singing a song composed by Kraabel for this purpose. Musicians' profits from sales of this CD will go to two NGOs working with migrants in northern France, Care4Calais and Utopia56. Why is Improvising Important? In 2018 Caroline Kraabel recorded a series of 17 interviews with improvisers (and people who study improvisation) in music, activism, dance, religion and visual art, including Maggie Nicols, Paul Mason, Joëlle Léandre, Pat Thomas, and Alexandre Papas. These were broadcast on London’s art radio station, Resonance 104.4 FM (available on the ResonanceFM mixcloud by searching for Why is Improvising Important here: https://www.mixcloud.com/Resonance/). The interviews are also available on Caroline Kraabel’s Bandcamp page: https://carolinekraabel.bandcamp.com/ Caroline Kraabel spent most of 2018 preparing the Twentieth Anniversary London Improvisers Orchestra celebration events, raising funds and planning in order to invite thirty of the great musicians and conductor/creators from the 20-year history of the LIO to return for a three-day celebration at London’s Cafe Oto, featuring workshops in improvisation, open rehearsals and concerts with 12 newly commissioned pieces for improvising orchestra. This incarnation of the LIO featured an equal number of male and female musicians and a representative ethnic balance; the events were a resounding success. https://www.cafeoto.co.uk/events/twentieth-anniversary-london-improvisers-orchestra/ Caroline Kraabel features as a composer/conductor and instrumentalist on the new double CD from the London Improvisers Orchestra, Twenty Years On, available here: http://www.londonimprovisersorchestra.co.uk/newreleases.html In November 2018 Caroline Kraabel led a large-scale workshop in improvisation (for women) at the EFG London Jazz festival.
In Autumn 2017 Caroline Kraabel's Taking a Life for a Walk, was selected for a Madrid exhibition of art relating to sound and public space, Charivaria.
In Spring 2016 Caroline Kraabel was invited by Québec’s Grand Groupe Régional d’Improvisation Libre to rehearse and perform her piece Une note n’écoutant qu’elle-même In March/April 2016 Kraabel organised the Calais Music Caravan, which travelled to the La Linière refugee camp in Northern France to play music and bring donations of musical instruments and other necessities for the people living there. A benefit performance of Kraabel’s piece LAST for improvising orchestra plus the pre-recorded voice of Robert Wyatt (singing a song by CK, also called LAST) brought in a lot of funds for this project; a live recording thereof is to be released soon. In 2015/2016 Caroline Kraabel curated and performed in a series of events, The Silver Wire, on William Blake’s home ground in North Lambeth, featuring Blake’s poetry and images alongside improvisation from Kraabel and Charlotte Hug, John Edwards, Tori Handsley, Cleveland Watkiss, Beibei Wang, Evan Parker, Hannah Marshall, Lauren Kinsella, Pat Thomas, Hyelim Kim, Maggie Nicols, Louis Moholo, David Stockard, Daniel Thompson and many more. Caroline Kraabel was part of Evan Parker’s 2015 large improvising orchestra for a tribute to Butch Morris. Since 2013 Kraabel has again been Going Outside, walking and playing the saxophone in London, with documentation: wealth-is-a-disease going-outside-northumberland-park-haringey-thursday going-outside-wednesday-8-january-2014-10-00-am Late in 2013 Kraabel contributed saxophone improvisations to Andrea Zarza’s Sonic Time Capsule for the Museo Reina Sofía, Madrid. In autumn 2012 Kraabel’s piece Recording The Other, for voice (French and English text by CK), flute, cello, piano and four recording devices, was selected for performance at the University of Glasgow at a symposium examining the appropriation of women’s voices and experience in Debussy’s Chansons de Bilitis and Ravel’s Chansons Madécasses. Kraabel played at the Tate Modern Gallery in May 2012 as part of the HerNoise festival, performing in Pauline Oliveros’s piece To Valerie Solanas and Marilyn Monroe. In 2011 Kraabel composed a set of music for two flutes, sax and drums, which was toured by Rowland Sutherland, Neil Metcalfe, Mark Sanders and CK. For two months in Autumn 2011, Caroline Kraabel was one of two live saxophone soloists taking it in turns to improvise as part of Anri Sala’s piece 3-2-1, at the Serpentine Gallery, in London’s Kensington Gardens. Taking a Life for a Walk, a weekly or fortnightly half-hour wander through London streets with her child(ren) while playing the sax, was broadcast live on Resonance 104.4fm for five years. Music In Your Head is a live acoustic performance that takes place (mostly) inside the head of its audience of one. Recording an Impression, a piece of radio and postal art, was broadcast on Resonance 104.4 fm. My Foolish Machine, a half-hour radio art piece broadcast across Europe by the Radia network in 2006. Saxophone Experiments in Space, a site-specific ambulant composition for 55 saxophonists, made for the Queen Elizabeth Hall/foyer/environs, in London. All of this work comes from a desire to make explicit the uniqueness of each way of making and receiving sound in time and space, which also relates to trying to live and work with integrity in the literal sense.