I had a conversation yesterday that started, “You like sound art, right?” Uh oh, I thought. I had an idea where this was heading. I responded, “That’s sort of like saying, ‘You like sculpture, right?’” The truth of my statement was not heartily acknowledged. They went on to tell me about what sounds like a very strange performance they’d seen at Sidewalk Cafe, a popular open mic venue in Manhattan, in which someone stood on a stage with his head hung low, holding a cassette player in each hand, playing too-quiet, garbled (perhaps slowed-down?) bits of recorded thanksgiving conversations to a bemused crowd. The performance they described actually sounded to me a bit more like performance art, that there was a certain (intended) theatricality to his shrinking posture and use of outdated technology, but that’s for another post.

That this anecdote was preceded by the question “You like sound art, right?” and the equivocation regarding my contention that “liking sound art” is akin to “liking” any other medium, led me to wonder how widespread the misunderstanding is of what sound art can be. It’s actually, I find, a frustratingly broad medium, encompassing field recording (phonography), kinetic sound sculpture, hacked electronics, interactive/algorithmic sound installations, data sonification, performative sonic explorations of various materials (I saw an interesting one recently using metallic objects and dry ice), and even artwork that produces no sound whatsoever, not to mention a sort of folding-in of things like musique concrète and experimental ambient/noise music.

As for the afore-mentioned open mic performance – and not having heard it, I can’t really speak to its quality, though I trust the folks who told me it was “weird” – it sounds like it was perhaps an ill-advised venue choice. I can imagine a performance like that at a gallery with a bunch of like-minded people, who wouldn’t be thrown off by the strangeness of it.

But perhaps I’m looking at it backwards. Maybe this guy’s got exactly the right idea. We do tend to live in a bit of an echo-chamber. I’m sure other sound artists out there can identify with my experience of trying to explain to family and friends not immersed in this culture what in the world it is I do, exactly (or perhaps more to the point, why). Maybe if more of us were out at open mic nights, instead of playing gallery shows and festivals for audiences made almost entirely of practitioners, a few more people would have some idea that we’re out here, and some idea of what we do, and why it’s interesting and relevant and beautiful. Maybe Share has the wrong idea. Instead of getting together and playing for eachother, we ought to go off in the four directions and evangelize for our cause!

Hell, I’m putting out the call:

Weirdo practitioners of the sonic arts, stand tall! Find an open mic night in your neighborhood, and take your bizarre performance, gadget, sculpture, recordings, readings, whatever you’re doing on stage and bewilder people!

UPDATE: My friend Matt directed me to this amazing site where a guy uploads mp3s of recordings he finds on cassettes he finds at tag sales and thrift stores. Take a listen!