Meeting with Stratos Kountouras and Aris Bezas yesterday. Decided to use tumblr for a common log since it is easier to manage. The blog will be embedded in the earlab website just as iani’s blog is.
Note: One can export tumblelogs as xml. So no fear of losing all the documentation done on a tumblelog as long as one takes care to export and backup the log.
Batuuhan Bozkurt has as website with an interesting blog, containing news and notes about the world of music and sound art.
http://www.batuhanbozkurt.com/home/index.php
Batuhan lives in Istanbul and works with SuperCollider. Besides his pieces he has also developed some highly original and extensive tools.
I found Batuhan from the Google map of SuperCollider users.
http://www.echelman.com/
One way to create a powerful presence in space with proportionally very little amount of matter. This is an idea to emulate also with other means, in other spaces or dimensions.
(another link gleaned from stinathina.wordpress.com).
(During a session for 3d year project involving multitouch surface)
The Greek Newspaper “Ethnos” (Nation) published a witness report by the two friends of Alexis Grigoropoulos that were next to him at the moment of his shooting on Saturday evening, December 6, 2008:
http://www.ethnos.gr/article.asp?catid=11424&subid=2&tag=8400&pubid=1988741
Alexis with his friends were preparing to go to a party for the namesday of a friend. A group of anarchists nearby threw stones at a passing police car; The car went by, but the policemen returned and fired three shots. When Alexis fell, his friends thought he had slipped. Then they saw blood and discovered the hole in his chest. By the time the ambulance came, he already had no pulse.
PS 081213: Links of up-to-date information by independent writers in Greece now:
PPS: The poem/letter written for Alexis Grigoropoulos by his classmates is posted here http://www.cpil.info/
PPPS: Analysis of some degree of depth and sincerity by Kostopoulos, Trimis, Psarra, Psarras at Eleftherotypia newspaper: http://www.enet.gr/online/online_fpage_text/id=29119428,34912580,42929860,57119812
For the past 2 weeks I have been evaluating TiddlyWiki as an alternative to PMWiki. I like the idea of being able to work offline. So when I have collected enough material, I will switch the earlab website from PMWiki to TiddlyWiki.
http://www.edo-tokyo-museum.or.jp/kikaku/page/2008/0715/200807.html
“Once in a lifetime” show.
From an e-mail post by Brian O’Reilly.
The Conet Project, a four CD collection from Irdial-Discs of “numbers stations.” For decades, intelligence organizations have reportedly broadcast one-way messages to their agents in the field via shortwave, and the transmissions happen to sound weirder than any Stockhausen score or minimalist electronica you’ve ever heard — a child’s voice, or the obviously synthesized intonation on what’s known as the “Lincolnshire Poacher” station, named for the folk song accompanying the numbers. The Conet Project contains recordings of 150 of these stations.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/
LINK for AUDIO files: http://irdial.hyperreal.org/
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And another unconventional project: Les UX
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/europe/article2554240.ece
http://www.thalesandfriends.org/en/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=49&Itemid=87
http://www.rice-paper.com/uses/calligraphy/essay/luyu.html
Profile of Monk Huai Su
By Lu Yu
Huai Su has an ingenuous, unpunctilious disposition. Knowing emptiness of this life, he keeps his true self by taking wine and expresses his aspiration through cursive writing. When he is getting heated with wine, he writes on walls, clothing, utensils, or whatever at hand. Once unable to afford paper for his practice, he planted thousands of banana trees outside his home village. Still lacking in writing supports, he made himself a square lacquer board as well as a lacquer tray; nevertheless, both of them were worn out by repeated use. Folks at his native place call him Master Qian,* Junior after his granduncle Monk Hui Rong whose practicing copy of Ouyang Xun was so close to the original that no one could tell which was which. “This monk will surely be famous for his calligraphy,” said Wei Zhi, the minister of the Ministry of Official Personnel Affairs, upon seeing his script.
“I’d better have a teacher than act blindly,” Huai Su thought one day, and started on a journey to Hangzhou, calling on his cousin Wu Tong for advice. Half a month passed when Wu said to Huai Su, “There are many expressions in cursive script. Wang Xianzhi’s script, by Emperor Tai-zong, is like deciduous trees in midwinter – lonely and hardy. Zhang Xu once said to me in private, ‘Withered wormwood loses its root and wind raises sand. I imitate their forms, and the imitation gives my calligraphy unusual appearance.’ This was how great masters had their expressions.” Huai Su said nothing but exclaimed again and again, “Now I know!” After stayed for about a year, Huai Su took his leave. “Now you’ll be thousand miles away, I have no other gift but a treasure that I’d like to part with,” Wu said, and presented Huai su with one of three calligraphy by Wang Xizhi and Wang Xianzhi he had. On the day of departure, he passed on his knack “vertical stroke in shape of ancient hairpin” to Huai Su for encouragement.
Huai Su visited Yan Zhenqing years later. When Yan learned that Huai Su was a disciple of his schoolmate Wu Tong, he said to Huai Su, “Personal experience is essential to cursive script besides learning. It was from the sword dance of Ms. Gongsun, as well as the rolling wormwood and the flying sand, that Zhang Xu evolved his undulating, wheeling brushwork. Does your teacher have anything alike?” “It is the shape of ancient hairpin, the highest standard for vertical brushstroke in cursive script,” Huai Su replied. Yan answered with a smile. Several months passed but he did not discuss calligraphy with Huai su. Huai Su came to bit farewell when Yan said, “Last time you mentioned vertical stroke in form of ancient hairpin. What if it is in form of leaking stains on mud wall?” Huai Su leant on Yan’s lap and cried for a good while. Yan then gently asked, “Do you have any experience yourself?” “I’ve been imitating summer clouds that often appear in the shape of marvellous mountains,” Huai Su replied. “They are changeful with wind, and never be checked by things like a dead end on earth.” “What an unheard-of remark!” Yan said. “This is certainly a continuation of Zhang Xu’s wonderfulness.”
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