Citizen Artists Making Emphatic Arguments

The following was written for the opening of the show: "Citizen Artists Making Emphatic Arguments", at the 18th Street Arts Center in Santa Monica, Californina, which openened on July 12, 2008. The composition "Global Warning" was a part of that show.

On The Future of Nations Exhibition & “GLOBAL WARNING”

The Earth, as we know it today, is peaceful and serene by nature. It’s survival depends on a balance of energies, which it is constantly working to maintain. When a single force expands to the extent that Earth’s natural balance is disturbed, a counter balance of energies will arise to regain the equilibrium. Human beings have been roaming around the Earth for about six million years, yet it was only 10,000 years ago that the first human civilizations were formed. Considering that life first emerged on Earth 2 or 3 billion years ago, 10,000 years is a considerably short amount of time. Yet here we now stand, one comparatively young specie, on the verge of destroying ourselves, our civilizations and most other life around us. After we are gone the Earth will still be here and new life will undoubtedly form, and perhaps one day new civilizations will be formed by creatures that may even look a bit like us. Yet, for us, this is our moment, our time to choose. We are the only creatures on Earth with the power to consciously choose our own fate, the fate of this beautiful life we share with all the other life forces on Earth.

The human being is a strange animal. Anthropologically we are a marvel. Creatively we can display genius. Socially we are complete idiots. I doubt there is one sane human being on this Earth today that would choose to destroy himself, his specie, and life as we know it on this Earth, yet our societies, our civilizations, our governments are doing just that, while we stand by individually shaking our heads in wonder and disgrace. Individually we feel helpless before the faceless powers of social greed, selfishness and fear. What can be done? Perhaps nothing. Perhaps this is the manner in which the Earth works to maintain its equilibrium. Perhaps life is not the Earth’s criterion. Certainly not human life. The Earth is a planet within a solar system within a galaxy that is drifting through eternity along with billions, even trillions of other galaxies, pursuing an end that for us is beyond comprehension. What we do here and now will have no effect on the inevitable course of eternity. We can leave all that in the hands of the unknowable force that created all of this. But here, now, you and me, what can we do about our own fate? What must be done?

We must live.

The purpose of life is to live. We must live free in spirit and without fear. We must sing, we must dance. We must feed ourselves and our neighbors and all living things with our joy, our love, our life. We must play our horns, beat our drums, recite our poems, make love, tickle our children, plant crops, build villages, swim in the beautiful rivers and oceans, fly kites, sail boats, sleep under the stars, wake up to the sun, fly through the air. We must work with joy in our hearts. Do what we please. Eat when we are hungry. Sleep when we are tired. We must follow our intuitions, and most of all we must trust and love ourselves. Whoever we are, whatever we do, we are alive here and now in this very moment and our first and only responsibility is to live. Life is the antidote for fear. In the face of life, fear in all of its forms is dissolved. Greed, power lust, selfishness, anger, judgment, prejudice, self-indulgence, egotism, resentment and hatred, when faced with the power and light of life, are disarmed, neutralized. Our job is to live.

The composition, “Global Warning”, begins with the placidity of a mountain meadow, passes through the cacophony of our present civilization and finally ends with two words: Hey, you! It’s up to us, you and me, to reinforce the powers of life within our societies. It’s up to us, those of us displaying our works of art, the products of our imaginations, the fruit of our lives, in this exhibition, and everyone who has worked to put this together, and all of you who have come to share the work and your concerns, it is up to each of us to turn and face the forces of fear with the power of our lives, with the truth that we know in our hearts, with our love for life that is boundless and unstoppable. Light always dissolves darkness. You and I carry the torch.


Tom Reddock

April, 2008

Musical Biography - Buffalo

Name: Tom Reddock aka Buffalo
Born: The second day of 1939
Place of birth: Pacific Grove, California, Planet Earth, Galaxy Milky Way.

Occupation: Somnambulist
Preoccupation: Sonic Sculptor



Musical Influences:
The thumb-bell of a passing bicycle in May of 1958, on a gravel street in New Koza, Okinawa – in that moment my ears were opened; an early morning wind through the short stubby pines in the mountains above Death Valley; an utter silence so complete it made the ears ache, on the floor of Death Valley at 12:43 PM on Thursday, the 12th of June, 1969; distant thunder; Clifford Brown; a soft forest rain in the Sierra Nevada Foothills; 43,000 people cheering at a SF Forty Niners game in 1966; Ben Webster; Hank Meals laughing; e. e. cummings; a distant train whistle; Harry Partch; a Redwinged Blackbird on a 1951 hot July afternoon in Sacramento; a human heart beat; John Cage; the river at the Second Campsite on Oregon Creek in 1974; John Coltrane; the majesty of the Daibutsu in Tōdai-ji, Nara, Japan, where the Sika deer roam freely and eat passively from your hand.

Listen carefully, the universe is singing.


It’s

all

music.


On Sonic Sculpture

“Wherever we are, what we hear is mostly noise. When we ignore it, it disturbs us. When we listen to it, we find it fascinating. The sound of a truck at 50 m.p.h. Static between the stations. Rain. We want to capture and control these sounds, to use them, not as sound effects, but as musical instruments.”

John Cage said this two years before I was born. I was unaware of him at the time. More than sixty years will have passed before I had emerged into this life, become aware of the music of the world around me, grown old, and, finally, read his words. He was sure of himself. When his audience severely criticized him after the first performance of his silent piece, 4’33”, he brushed the criticism off saying it was “because they didn’t know how to listen”. He was right. To listen one must focus one’s attention. We don’t like doing that. We prefer listening as a passive act, being entertained. True listening requires opening the doors to one’s imagination. One must dive in, swim, build, invent, respond, surrender. What is called “popular” music is not meant to be received in that way. It is a backdrop to our busy lives with sometimes catchy lyrics and rhythms. It is not meant to be an artistic form. To listen to Cage’s 4’33” one must be completely present, open and receptive. In general, our society is not prepared to do that. John Cage saw society as "one of the greatest impediments an artist can possibly have" to creating good art. But he didn’t let that stop him. He went his own way; did his own thing. And we are all better off for it.

I grew up with jazz music. To appreciate jazz one must listen openly and freely and participate emotionally and intellectually. To follow the spontaneous creation of melody and rhythm there is no room for the barriers of predetermined form. Accept it as it comes, absorb it, and then later, if you must, criticize it. It is still music. But what does that mean? What is music?

Music is the most abstract of the arts, without physical form, feel, color, taste or smell. Music is sound. Sound and silence. Some want it to be organized sound. Some want the sounds to be tuned to a predefined scale. The preferences are as endless as the cultures and attitudes that impose them. Is the song of the Redwinged Blackbird music? Absolutely! Does it conform to the diatonic scale? Is it in ¾ time? Of course not, but it is most certainly music, and music of the highest order. How about church bells? Is that music? Certainly! Then how about the sound of the flapping of the dove’s wings as they flock fly out of the tower when the bells suddenly ring? Yes, to me, the doves are a part of the music, as well as the distant train whistle and the brakes of the rickety bicycle as the old man brings it to a stop so that he can admire the flock of doves in flight while the great bells toll the hour. Music is sound. Sound is music.

In the sonic sculptures I strive to use the sounds of my life as musical instruments. I work to compose compositions with these sounds and with tonal lines and rhythmic sequences in somewhat the same manner that a traditional composer strives to use the instruments of an orchestra to create a symphony. Instead of snare drums I might use heart beats or the ticking of a clock. Instead of a string ensemble I might use wind in the trees, or a small stream. Instead of kettle drums and trombones I might use a jack hammer, a busy highway, or the roar of a city bus. For me, the environmental sounds add another dimension to the composition, a more human dimension, that evoke a deep memory which may be vague and unformed, but nonetheless familiar in a more personal way. This is just my way of hearing; my way of expressing the formless musical emotions that resonate within my imagination.


You can listen to and down load “Global Warning” and other compositions at www.myspace.com/sonicsculptures.

The CD “Big Buddha” is available at www.cdbaby.com/cd/reddock .