Where Does ‘Your’ Space End and the Next Begin?

A new book has just been published, edited by Candice Boyd and Christian Edwardes, entitled Non-Representational Theory and the Creative Arts. The book also features a chapter focussed on A General Assembly of Interested Parties (GAIP), the loose collective of artists and activities initiated by Ren Walters, of which I have been involved with as well. The chapter ‘Where Does ‘Your’ Space End and the Next Begin? Non-representation Geographies of Improvised Performance’ is written by Candice (a GAIP participant herself), along with several other GAIP participants, including myself. In it, we recount various GAIP-related experiences and events (complete with colour photos), which Candice assimilates into a theorectical context. It’s very satisfying to see this serious consideration of GAIP and it’s actitvities emerge, which sits besides Paul Blackman’s in-depth review of a GAIP-related THIS Ensemble happening last year.

The book is available from the link above (for a very expensive price), students and academics might prefer to check their library holdings. If anyone is interested in seeing the aforementioned chapter, please contact me and I’ll provide you with a copy.



  1. Plan your site visits – access, equipment, clothing – but be prepared for all plans to go out the window. The nature of site-specificity demands improvisation in all facets
  2. Be determined. Cannot access a site? Try another way in. Warning signs saying no entry? Well, if you are not bothering anyone, or damaging anything, go for it.
  3. I’m all for public space performance, but not in residential areas. Respect residents (human and animal) who may be bothered by your activities.
  4. If you are going somewhere remote, or potentially dangerous, tell someone where you are going and when you expect to be back, for safety reasons.
  5. In the dark, drive/walk slowly. Take your time. Don’t fall over and hurt yourself. Scout locations thoroughly during daylight hours, look for hazards as well as potential sites of interest.
  6. Think about how you will transport your equipment to the sites you intend to visit. Will a car get in? I’m using a backpack and a small wheelie suitcase, along with several small bags with shoulder straps. An old towel or tarp is invaluable for wet ground and sudden rain.
  7. On site, don’t leave your equipment scattered around. Keep it in the one place. It’s very easy to lose and forget things in the dark.
  8. No matter if you forget/lose/break equipment/recording devices, all that is ultimately required is for you to be present in the site.

Hits from the Gong


I wrote about The Instrument Builders Project exhibition in Melbourne in late 2014, and this piece is included in the new book documenting the project Hits from the Gong, along with full colour documentation of artists and instruments, as well as other writings by Joel Stern, Helen Hughes and more. Copies are available from Shame File Music.

On Turntables

I wrote the following in September 2011 for the liner notes of my RPMs 5-6-7 CD (Iceage Productions, 2012). It describes how I came to be using turntables the way I was at this time, which was pretty much exclusively to any other sound source. I dug this up recently when Simon Charles asked me if I could write something about my turntable practice for an upcoming Antechamber gig he is organising, where I’ll give my first solo turntable performance since February. Antechamber will take place on Saturday 7 November 2014, from 2:30pm at Footscray Community Arts Centre. Also performing is The Phonetic Orchestra with Jim Denley, so it should be a great day.

On Turntables

I can’t remember exactly what led me to using turntables as instruments, besides the vague recollection of a ‘what if’ moment: what would happen if you tried to play shards of broken records? This was soon followed by the idea of attempting to improvise on guitar along with the chaotic yet rhythmic snatches of music from each shard, and I soon realised I had hit a vein of richly-creative material that would become my main musical occupation for the next four years. I do know that I was growing frustrated with the sonic palette of electric guitar at the time, which had been my main sound source previously, feeling that perhaps I’d explored all the aspects of it that interested me. The idea of repeating old ground bored me, and I was hungry for new ideas and sounds. This was also at a time when I was beginning to become more interested in the theory and conceptual side of experimental music history, initially through my research of the Artefacts of Australian experimental music: 1930-1973 compilation CD (Shame File Music, 2007) and related projects, followed by a subsequent period of formal music/musicology study. Not only was I excited by the sonic output of what increasingly resembled ‘prepared turntables’, but by the questions they raised in regard to indeterminate composition and the role of the performer/composer.

My initial output framed the turntable as an automated yet indeterminate improvisation companion, or ‘improvising machine’. Some of these earliest recordings were released on the Duos for Guitars and Broken Records mini CD (Shame File, 2007), a limited edition of 52 with handmade covers I constructed out of cut-up LP sleeves and shards of vinyl. This release showed my interest in broken records as both a sound source and an aesthetic statement in themselves. The ‘improvising machines’ concept was expanded in May 2011 with a showcase gig at Melbourne’s Make It Up Club, where I put together three different ensembles with other improvisers (including Ernie Althoff, who’s long-standing adaptations of turntables remains an ongoing influence). RPMs 7 is a live recording of a structured improvisation from this event.

The RPMs series of compositions and subsequent releases documents a more structured approach to different turntable preparations as well as interactions between multiple record players (see liner notes from RPMs 3-4 CD (Shame File Music, 2011) for more details on the RPMs compositional structure). With “RPMs 5”, I began to explore a different aspect of these turntables: as percussive machines. The influence of Althoff’s work is apparent here again, as I unplugged the speakers from my increasingly-decrepit turntables (bits were falling off from the punishment they’ve been put through; playing broken records ain’t great for stylus care) and instead pointed microphones at the action happening on the turntable mat. I’d discovered that the ‘acoustic’ sound of the stylus and tone arm hitting the broken records was complex and interesting in itself. Around the same time, I began adding other objects to the turntable mat that had their own acoustic and percussive properties (such as keys, coins, screws, chains of metal curtain rings and other small metal items). This particular line of enquiry has been my most recent focus, where I’ve literally piled objects and other detritus on top of turntables, interlocking chains of curtain rings with screwdrivers and chop sticks that add as extra ‘beaters’ to these indeterminate percussion machines that sometimes ‘lock-up’, adding surprisingly poignant ‘rests’ to the music, until the motor of the turntable breaks the gridlock and starts turning again. For RPMs 6, speakers are plugged back in to amplify the sound of three turntables playing the mats themselves (i.e. – the stylus rubbing on the turntable mats – the turntables are ‘empty’).

Throughout all of these different approaches to turntables, I’ve regularly felt a strong instinct to not interfere with the machines – to just ‘let them go’. This can be difficult for a performer, especially when performing solo, as one feels like they should be doing something! At one gig I was so pleased with the sounds the combined turntables made, I left the stage for a few minutes, and an installation of six self-playing turntables I did for the Melbourne International Jazz Festival in 2011 had little involvement from me at all once it was started up (visitors were free to play with the settings on the record players themselves, though). This fulfils a long-held conviction of mine that we do not possess music; either as consumers, audiences, performers or composers; instead, we are part of the phenomenon of music. And not only is less sometimes more, but on occasion doing ‘nothing’ actually has a big impact.

(Copies of RPMs 5-6-7 CD are available from Shame File Music)

Val Stephen “Abstractum” LP


Val Stephen “Abstractum: the electrogenic music of Val Stephen” LP is out now on Dual Planet, featuring liner notes by myself.

These recordings are sourced from a research project I completed a few years ago with John Whiteoak (author of Playing Ad Lib and The Currency Companion to Music and Dance in Australia – essential items for your bookshelves of anyone interested in improvised music in Australia) where Stephen’s tape archive was catalogued and digitised. John and I co-authored an article on Stephen’s music for Musicology Australia (“Dr. Val Stephen, a ‘gentleman amateur’ in Australian electronic music experiment of the 1960s”, Musicology Australia Vol 32, No. 2 : December 2010, pp. 265-284) , and Shame File Music released an online album of the highlights of the archive called Electrogenesis.

If anyone is interested in seeing our article on Stephen, contact me.