A Sound of Teaching—with Phil Timberlake— Broadcast on Montez Press Radio, Saturday, November 21st, 2020 11AM–12:00, Broadcast on WGXC, Tuesday December 1st, 2020, 2PM–3PM
A Sound of Teaching—with Phil Timberlake— Conversations with Phil Timberlake, actor and teacher of voice and speech for actors, leading us through exercises inspired by Roy Hart, Catherine Fitzmaurice, Arthur Lessac and Kristin Linklater and leading him through how he visually imagines a moment of his teaching.
Joined by Phil Timberlake
Phil Timberlake is an Associate Professor of Voice and Speech at DePaul University’s Theatre School. He is an Associate Teacher of Fitzmaurice Voicework and holds a Diploma as a Roy Hart Voice Teacher. Phil has been a Fulbright Fellow to France, and is currently an ensemble member at Chicago’s Lifeline Theatre.
Vocospherics, Broadcast on Montez Press Radio, Saturday, October 31st, 2020, 11AM–12, Broadcast on WGXC, Tuesday, November 3rd, 2020, 2PM–3PM
Vocospherics— Modulatet speech sounds to help diminish Covid’s spread? Thinking aloud around aerosolizations of voice — and what happens in the infrazone bettween mouth and mask.
Tongue and Cheek is a radio broadcast that leads listeners through vocal and movement exercises. Broadcasts are composed of warm-ups, conversations, and archival sound that focus on language and communication. We think about communication in a broad sense, leading listeners through exercises that reimagine the limits of the human body, social interdependence, and interspecies or non-species communication.
Voiced and led by Tim Simonds, Aaron Lehman and Emma McCormick-Goodhart Broadcast here, 8AM and 8PM everyday.
To listen to future and archived broadcasts: First Tuesday of the month 2:00PM–3:00PM EST on WGXC WGXC (90.7FM Acra) Wave Farm
Last Saturday of the month 11:00AM–12:00PM EST on Montez Press Radio Montez Press Radio
Tongue and Cheek was first developed and aired on Montez Press Radio beginning in the summer of 2018. Montez Press Radio is an experimental radio station and commissioning platform for unexpected works from artists and other creative voices. MPR continues to air new episodes of Tongue and Cheek during its monthly live broadcast at 46 Canal St in Chinatown, New York.
In 2019 Tongue and Cheek started an additional monthly broadcast on WGXC (90.7FM Acra, NY), Wave Farm’s community radio station. WGXC: Radio for Open Ears “is a full-power, non-commercial, listener-supported station in New York’s Upper Hudson Valley operating out of studios in Hudson and the Wave Farm Study Center in Acra.”
There are messages primarily serving to establish, to prolong, or to discontinue communication, to check whether the channel works… Dorothy Parker caught eloquent examples: “‘Well!’ the young man said. ‘Well!’ she said. ‘Well, here we are’ he said. ‘Here we are’ she said, ‘Aren’t we?’ ‘I should say we were’ he said, ‘Eeyop! Here we are.’ ‘Well!’ she said. ‘Well!’ he said, ‘well.’ ” —Roman Jakobson, “Linguistics and Poetics”
To reach an arm out of one’s mouth, peek through one’s ear, and speak out of one’s eye. Communication happens by any means possible. It is the different ways bodies extend themselves, as limbs that bridge things—reaching out, stretching and sometimes touching, with a light tap, “Marco!”
How we voice, how we gesture, how we manner, how we empathize. Exercises to find all ways of thinking of language, and to exercise them as their own paths of communication.
To empathize over radio. Invite to do the same—feel, mimic, echo. “Polo” The sound of leading, of following, of teaching speaking. And learning to make a body of a limb.
Serafina Musumeci-Mcginn, Jamie Lerman, Noyuri Umezaki, Jonathan Sherwood, Jennifer Choi, Amberrose Venus-Gordon, June Kim, Thea Zwier, Emily Monick, Sydney Williams, Amanda Giattino and Tim Simonds
artists from the Sculpture, Painting, Drawing, and Printmaking departments at Pratt with their Studio Writing professor, Tim Simonds.
A group of young artists from Pratt share a series of 10-minute segments exploring terrains of their own creative research through written and voiced language.
Artists from the Sculpture, Painting, Drawing, and Printmaking departments at Pratt have been exploring different ways that written and voiced language can relate to their studio practices: writing that ventriloquizes, exists in parallel, moves on a tangent, or intersects and diverges from their studio work. On this broadcast they share a series of 10-minute written or scripted works, that they have developed for radio.
Tserendulam Jargalsaikan, Makayla Bunce, Natalie Peterson, Devin Alexander, Clay Mears, Abril Barajas, Rosa Quimby, Katerina Yewell, Nicholas Zgraggen, Jordan King, Tanner Fox, and Tim Simonds
artists from the Sculpture, Painting, Drawing, and Printmaking departments at Pratt with their Studio Writing professor, Tim Simonds.
To explore the possibilities of finding parallels and divergences to outside worlds.
We have been exploring different ways that written and voiced language can relate to our studio practices– writing exists in parallels, and on tangents: a neglected narrator with stories to tell, the precarious existence of memories within objects, records of personal and impersonal relations to materials, promises of past, present, and future change, proposals for unmade films, inheritance and memories of stories over-told. On this broadcast we share a series of written or scripted works, exploring these terrains of written and voiced language.
A series of texts by Lyricka Robinson-Smith, Mia McCormick, Mavet Arellano, Colette Bernard, and Rebecca Johnson, written alongside each other in a class with Tim Simonds at Pratt Institute.
Lyricka Robinson-Smith, Mia McCormick, Mavet Arellano, Colette Bernard, and Rebecca Johnson, with Tim Simonds
A series of radio pieces by artists exploring writing in relation to their studio practices. The radio-texts were written and recorded in a class led by Timmy Simonds, “Studio Writing: Parallel Worlds,” at Pratt Institute.
in places deep enough to drown stars are little paper cut ups I'm sorry to impose on you. But, how do you know if you’re awake?
Not my voice but not really anyone’s voice either disembodied analytical nonsense, something from a sexed-up fairy tale found in the sunlight on the side of a house, and casting my shadow against it indicates there’s art to be found in ourselves.
You don’t make art, you find it.
November 2, 2021
11:32 pm
like a diary entry.
Time spent, although nothing around suggested this. Nothing to show.
Entering was the only thing that dated time.
Entering,
entering had happened.
I often feel as though these are situations I am stumbling upon and not creating.
[Like an imposter]
How do we feel secure when faced with the most unreliable narrator of all, ourselves?
(Collected, combined and composed from our radio-texts)
Chloe Rees, Bhairum Jumbala Na Ayudhaya, Devan Armeni , Devon Gordon, Dylan Newlon, Ezra Ooghe, Liberty Grace, Madison Costello, Matthew Hopen, and Naomi Larson, with Tim Simonds
Two or more people have a conversation in a room and then leave it. They leave the room and leave the conversation. The conversation is left in the room. But it has no story. It hasn’t been left with a story. There is no “about.” It is a pattern. Or a patterning. Just the relations. A bunch of prepositions lingering there. Some negotiation. Some coordination. All the social words with which we describe music: harmony, dissonance, chord, discord, resolution, fugue, counterpoint. It is left there. But it is not residue. More like a puppet. It moves. And might be dressed up. A puppet that is a teacher. A puppet that is a teacher with only limbs. And someone else, some other people, might come in and use it; pick it up and dance with it.
Here are a set of maypoles. They are like the midsommarstång danced around in Sweden, like liberty poles and arbres de la liberté that rally a gathering for someone to speak out in a small village in 18th century France or North America, like the poles plaited in Waldorf schools as a part of elementary education, like the Maibäume birch tree tied to the corner of the houses of lovers in the Rhineland. They are model size. Smaller rituals. Some move. Some are obstructed. Some are knotted from the outset. And some are too fragile to stand on their own.
MENU
Once circle, All equally spaced around, numbered clockwise. The even numbers face out.
The odd numbers face in— they do not move, but act as gateposts.
The even numbers move.
Away from the center of the circle Turning right, And moving back towards the center of the circle passing between the next gate post.
Turning left, And moving back away from the center of the circle Passing between the next gate posts.
Turning right, And so on and so on…
One evening in the winter of 1801 as I walked in the park, I happened to meet Mr. C—who was engaged as first dance in the opera, a man very popular with the public. I told him, in passing, that I had seen him several times at an outdoor marionette theater that had been set up in the market square to entertain the common-folk with song and dances and short dramatic burlesques.
He assured me that I need not be surprised at his delight in the pantomime of these marionettes; and hinted that they could be very effective teachers of the dance. Since he did not seem to be indulging a mere whim about them, I sat down with him to discuss this strange theory in which marionettes seemed to become teachers. — Heinrich von Kleist, On the Marionette Theater, 1810 (translator unknown)
There are two voices, and only two voices all the time. Either voice might be an instrument’s sound, a guitar or a keyboard, in the room, here, now.
They speak to each other. Speak alone and hear one and other. Speak along while listening to each other. Or speak without listening to each other. No matter, hear now, these two voices, no matter what they do, are tethered to one and other.
There are two voices, and only two voices all the time. But these too voices are not limited to our voices and the sounds of the instruments around us here and now. Either voice might be something from farther away, a record of something not now.
These conversations, are / here, now, / not many voices. Cacophony is not multiple voices Polyphony is not multiple voices Cacophony is one voice Polyphony is one voice One of only two voices, and only two voices all the time.
One voice considers the other voice. If the voice makes a sound, it means it has met another voice. It has already exchanged with the other voice. If I say eeeeeeeeeyeeeeee or say say it means Mauro has said this.
He does not control me, he has only opened his mouth and remained silent to let my air out. He speaks with my vocal chords, and I speak with his. Every voice speaks using the other voice’s chords.
…
Now, a singing lesson…
Leading and Circles was a radio broadcast with the musician and composer, Mauro Hertig. An exchange of exercises for reading and singing. Two voices, a guitar and a keyboard are put in a chain of influences, following and pitch-correcting each other.
Our description as it reads on the broadcaster’s (MPR’s) site:
The teacher’s voice teaches how to move the mouth, to move the tongue to move the air to push it past the teacher. All teaching teaches singing. The instruments – guitar, two voices, and classroom audio recordings – are placed in a chain of influence. An algorithm decides which instrument controls which. The voice is led by the guitar, or the guitar is led by audio recordings, or the audio recordings are led by the voice, or the voice is led by the other voice. By changing only the pitch of each instrument, their sound remains the same, while forced into its heights or depths.
Tim Simonds, voice, recorded voice. Mauro Hertig, guitar, keyboard, voice.
Mauro Hertig is a composer of ensemble, chamber and site-specific works; with a focus on techniques that involve empathy, and stage environments that transform directions of observation between performers and audience.