walking on thin ice, on an unrecognized surface here, 10-pole_temple is built on recorded clips of effects in auto-oscillation, stitched together and performed "play-live-to-mixing" through the aid of three hardware controllers.

10-pole_temple has been sitting on a sector of my server disk for nearly six months, without me finding the energy to jump the leap and finally get it finished. its parts have been recorded on boxing day 2015, and assembled to an unfinished stage during the following days. funny how it seems to make sense and come together, at least to my ears, about half a year (and 30° Celsius) later.

maybe it does not, make sense, and maybe it does not come together, and i'm being tricked by that clicking bass drum... it's not my cup of tea, you know how reluctant i am to cling things onto a frame, and to build a cage with obvious rhythm figures. and still... i wanted to work on it again, until it was somewhat ready to share.

the original idea was patched around the temporary title "architecture", which is at least peculiar if i go back at that moment, when its main frame has been devised out in the open countryside, on the backseat of my car, with headphones and a pitch-dark winter afternoon enveloping anything into a fog blanket.

what does this has to do with architecture... i failed to comprehend then, but did not stop to chase the pitch, and i see the point i was trying to make then, but only now that all bits and beats have clicked into place.

there's no reason to call this other than an experiment. i was specifically working around a choice of effects that had to be chilling my spine, spooky, scary, to an extent, and unsettling, too.

i'd be interested in hearing your comments and feeling about this. because you might help me see a path, if there's one, onto which move other steps in either direction, exiting the cave or delving deeper into the grotto.

at least, picture deals with architecture, though.
it's a reworked photograph of a parabolic-shaped warehouse while under construction in the early 50s.

i visited the place before renovation for a sound design project that i never got assigned, but it stayed with me ever since, almost twenty years later, for its shape and feeling...

industrial buildings have often been devised to contain the noisiest and loudest production processes. but in their after-life, when they've been abandoned to rot and rust and crumble, somehow silence surrounding them provides a sort of aura to bring forth the respect a monument deserves.

it's really late, too late, and time to fold the web away.
once again, thank you for stopping by, for reading, and for listening.

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