When writing music freely, untethered to a deadline or a collaborator, I can suffer from option overload. Who’s to say what is good or bad, right or better, too strange or not strange enough?
When a piece of music can be anything and everything, it’s easy to get lost at sea. In contrast: The natural critic in all of us, when we see two things juxtaposed, can immediately respond to whether something feels right or off, the way each of us does hundreds of times per day. “This chair is too big for this room,” “This music’s too busy for this restaurant,” “This would taste better with less vermouth.” It turns the creative process from pulling rabbits out of a hat into purely impulsive reactions dictated by one’s own highly personalized taste.
The fact that we live in the most interconnected time in history, yet we live with the same problems in communicating that we’ve always had, is telling. Making art with someone I have neither spoken to nor had any other direct communication with is sort of romantic to me. We’re avoiding any personal/political/ideological baggage and just cutting to the chase of creating.
I think back to pens pals I had when I was a kid (is this still a thing?). Kids in India, Northern England. We corresponded for years and created a dynamic and a foundation for friendship where none should have feasibly existed. It seems to me now, we only create friendships when we find common ground: “Here is someone like me. We feel the same way about xyz.” I like the idea of willing a dynamic into existence, common ground be damned. You can’t start a fire without a spark.
— Chris Hansen
I have always been a big advocate and supporter of artistic collaborations. Often times the natural process of an artist, my own included, can be solitary, introspective and personal.
The beauty of collaborating, interacting and being exposed to another medium is that it permits each artist to get a glimpse inside the mind and artistic process of another. During this interaction, not only can one learn and be educated in a new field, but it also in turn enriches and elevates their own work in new and fresh directions.
2D art has always been my personal passion, but over the years I have been aware of its limitations. Painters throughout history have often attempted to evoke and convey more to the viewer while still working within the constraints of the two-dimensional surface. Abstract expressionist Mark Rothko attempted with his large-scale color field paintings to evoke a spiritual experience and transcendence. He encouraged the viewer to stand no fewer than 18 inches away from the canvas so that it enveloped them in entirety. An Orchestrated Impulse is a project that will heighten the viewer’s normal visual experience with art to include one with enriched sound harmonies and music. The result will add a new dimension to both art forms while including the third, most vital component — the viewer — therefore completing the piece.
I am trying to take part in creating something that represents and encourages human connections. Technology has connected us like never before, yet I feel, like a lot of others I assume, a sense of isolation.
Artists across all fields do have the unique and essential ability to transform the creativity from the mind into a tangible reality. I am thrilled to be participating in a project that reflects and celebrates the lost practice of being present, being involved and being connected.
One of the things I love and appreciate about art on all levels is that there are no barriers. It can be understood across all cultures, age groups and demographics. It can influence a huge range of people unlike any other form of communication.
In this particular project, we are not only trying to communicate and connect with others but also embrace the basic foundation of what our chosen art fields and artistic languages are about. Both visual and sonic art can be depicted and presented in a very grandiose, pompous and unattainable way. I think Matt, Chris and I choose to focus more on the simple nature of what can be accomplished by joining sincere visuals with beautiful, heartfelt sounds.
— Eva Magill-Oliver
This is the story about the impulse to create a deep connection in a time when everything is fleeting.
I believe that what lasts is the attempt to inspire each other. It is recognition, across time, space and medium.
An Orchestrated Impulse goes beyond the completed creation. It is the at-times awkward odyssey of trying to understand the process of another artist who works in another medium. Then, transcribing those movements, brush strokes and sounds into a vocabulary that makes sense to each other and to the outside world. We want everyone to see everything.
Most of the work and the ways that we work are kept within our heads and hands. In the completed piece, we are showing the simplicity of our mutual appreciation. It is an extended love letter to the concept of multidimensional gratitude.
— Matt Pond