Mortality Tables – 8th March 2024
Christopher Nosnibor
Mortality Tables once again bring us a release that’s deeply immersed in the spirit of the avant-garde, and about setting defined parameters within which a project must function. When it comes to such things, it’s not about dictating restrictions, but about providing focus. Not all artists like to work to guidelines, although a prompt can open infinite possibilities for interpretation, and as such, there’s creative potential in working in such a way. And so it is that, as the accompanying notes explain, ‘Central Park: A Picture-In-Sounds is a site-specific performance piece, for one or more performers aged between ten and 95 years old. It is a tribute to the multi-disciplinary work of Charles Ives that will be published in 2024.’ We go on to learn that ‘To execute the piece, each performer will refer to a map of Central Park divided into areas representing the life expectancies listed in an 1874 US insurance industry mortality table. Each performer will identify an area of the Park corresponding to their life expectancy in 1874 and make a field recording lasting precisely eight minutes and thirty seconds.’
These are some highly specific instructions, but, once there, what performers are essentially looking at is eight and a half minutes to express as they feel appropriate, and of course, here, the possibilities are near-limitless. How one responds to a setting, a time, a space is, after all, a purely personal thing. Just as no two people’s lived experiences are the same, so no two responses will be identical.
This is a document of Mat Smith’s second performance, recorded on. 9 February 2024, at 16:13.
His own commentary is illuminating, and merits citation here, for context:
‘I was 47 years old when I performed ‘Central Park: A Picture-In-Sounds’ for the second time. Although I was a year older, when I looked at the life expectancies table and cross-referenced that with my divided Central Park map, it indicated that I should once again perform the piece near Strawberry Fields… The character of a place is in a continual state of mutability, and that was evident when I began the piece. It was a different season, the trees were barren and sleeping, snowdrops were springing up everywhere, and there were significantly more people in the park than the day I performed the piece in June the previous year. A carpet of dry leaves covered the area I set myself up in, crispy underfoot, waiting to crumble into dust.’
He recounts how ‘Someone at the John Lennon memorial began singing. Somewhere near the path, a street musician with what sounded like an amplified violin began playing a rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’, even though Christmas was retreating rapidly into the past. In between, he would play a plaintive wistful little coda that seemed so at odds with the relatively gleeful ‘Jingle Bells’. Often, his playing is accompanied by the harsh ringing bells of bikes as they whizz along the bike paths…’
His narrative creates a vivid – and moving – picture of the scene. It’s easy to think of these kind of performances taking place either with some sort of ‘arrangement’ and a cluster of observers who are ‘in the know’ gathered as witnesses, or in seclusion; it’s not so obvious to consider the actuality of creating sonic art in a public space, and all of the randomness and happenstance which that entails.
However, Central Park: A Picture In Sounds (Performance #2) captures this perfectly. The combination of the breeze and traffic creates a constant roar in the background. Birds chirp in abundance – far more than one might associate with February, at least here in England – and dogs yap and bark constantly. You can’t move for bloody dogs anywhere, in parks in fields, post-pandemic, it seems as if there are more dogs than people. But for all the ambience, all the thronging noise – and this really does remind that even quiet spaces really aren’t in large cities, with blaring radios and chatter and that constant roar – this is mostly eight and a half minutes of ‘Jingle Bells’ being played on a fiddle. In February. Bloody buskers.
But, as a snapshot field recording, Central Park: A Picture In Sounds (Performance #2), is absolutely alive, buzzing, bustling, busy – a slice of life.
AA
Aural Aggravation 