'The Edison Effect'

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Paul DeMarinis

'The opposition between hearing and staring finds its strange union with the diamond stylus, a diamond above all that writes out sound as well as reflects light.' -- Duncan Smith, The Age of Oil



The Edison Effect

'A series of interactive sculptures that play ancient phonograph records with laser beams. The reflections of light from the walls of the groove carry the audio information to photoelectric devices where it is translated first into an electrical signal, then into sound by a loudspeaker. The resultant sounds range from recognizable to distorted, something like a distant shortwave radio or a haunting bit of a melody just barely remembered. The arrangment of optics, motors and light allow random access to the grooves of the records, permitting distortion, dis-arrangement and de-composition of the musical material.

'Each Edison Effect player is a meditation on some aspect of the relations among music, memory and the passage of time. Our sense of time, memory, and belonging have all been changed by the exact repetition implicit in mechanical recording. The needle in the groove, no less than the needle in the vein, is one symbolic emblem on our quixotic quest for the perfect moment of fulfillment. Re-played here, without needles, the record becomes what it really is: a holographic object, a simultaneous smorgasbord to be consumed in the order and taste we see fit. The raw and raucous noises of the record surface commingle with the sounds inscribed in the groove, creating a havoc of misinterpreted intentions and benign accidents.

'The phonograph and the photograph have a coeval history of influence and development. The Edison Effect players demonstrate the photographic nature of acoustic recordings. These pinhole ( or needlepoint ? ) pictures of sounds long vanished project the shadows of sounds. Holograms, gamma rays, goldfish and cunieform serve to emphasize the parallel narrative of the mechanization of image and sonic inscription.' -- Paul DeMarinis

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'Al & Mary Do the Waltz'
'A turn-of-the-century Edison wax cylinder of Strauss' "Blue Danube Waltz" is turned on a paint roller rotated by a motor and rubber band. A laser beam is focused on the groove of the cylinder and its reflections are translated into sound. The laser beam passes through a bowl of goldfish who occasionally interrupt the beam to produce uncomposed musical pauses.' -- PDM





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'Dinner at Ernies'





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'Ich auch Berlin(er)'
'A tribute to the Berlin(er) brothers, Emil, Irving, and John Fitzgerald. A gelatin dichromate hologram of a 78 rpm record of the "Beer Barrel Polka" is rotated on a transparent turntable and played by a green laser. Once I realized that only light reflections were needed to make the recorded grooves audible, it became apparent that a hologram (the memory of light reflecting from a surface) would suffice to play music. Here, sans needle, sans groove, the band plays on.' -- PDM





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'Lecture of Comrade Stalin'





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'Fragments from Jericho'
'An authentic recreation of what is probably the world's most ancient audio recording. A clay cylinder inscribed (by intention or accident?) with voices from the past. By gently turning a large black knob, you can direct the laser beam across the surface of the turning clay vessel to eavesdrop on vibrations from another age.' -- PDM





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'Fireflies Alight on the Abacus of Al-Farabi'





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'Un-raveled Melody'
'Mechanical recording exerted its effects upon music composition by coercing preexisting rondo forms into ever tighter spirals. A hologram of Ravel's ""Bolero" cycles forever, as the laser beam weaves its path along the dance floor.' -- PDM





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'Murder by Television'





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'Rhondo in Blew a la Cold Turkey'
'A 78 of "Rhapsody in Blue" is erratically scanned by a laser beam emitting from a hypodermic syringe. We may contemplate the addictive act of record listening as Oscar Levant plays himself playing Gershwin in another tired remake of "An American [Junkie] in Paris".' -- PDM






Lecture





Essay in lieu of a Sonata
Paul DeMarinis

My title "The Edison Effect" has multiple references. It refers first to the profound and irreversible effect the invention of sound recording has had upon music, the soundscape, upon the time and place of our memory and sense of belonging. It should also call to mind Thomas Alva Edison's illicit claim to the invention of the light bulb, and his general propensity for copying and appropriation as an emblem of the inherently uncertain authorship of all recorded works. Finally, it invokes a metaphorical allusion to the physical phenomenon known as the "Edison Effect" wherein atoms from a glowing filament are deposited on the inner surface of light bulbs causing them to darken. It was this phenomenon of thermionic emission that, when understood, made possible the invention of the "audion" or vacuum tube. This, in turn, led to the development of sound amplification as well as radio, television and the earliest digital computers. The metaphorical image of the darkening of the light is an ancient one, recurring in the I-Ching, in Mazdaism, and in Shakespeare's oxymoronic "when night's candles have burnt out". Enantiodromic reversal at the atomic level can be used to symbolize opposing primal forces and may serve to mythicize otherwise commonplace occurrences.

Edison's name and face are synonymous with invention, brilliance and technological innovation. As the modern Prometheus, he lured millions toward the light. The light bulb, commonly believed to be his consummate invention, still stands as an iconic exclamation of ideas, innovation - the stroke of genius.1 The discovery of a potentially fatal flaw inherent in the invention - that the light-producing bulbs would themselves darken, causing them to cast shadows rather than light - was perceived by Edison to be a potential bug, a stain upon his brilliant reputation. To compound the paradox with irony, this is the only bona fide scientific phenomenon which bears the inventor's name. Whereas other nineteenth century colossi, such as Tesla, Ampere or Volta had basic units of measure or even third world nations named after them, Edison, universally resented by the scientific community and deemed by them a charlatan and promoter, was grudgingly awarded only this obscure and obscuring "effect" to immortalize his name.

It is often the case that a new medium's first major flaw or contradiction is destined to become its dominant metaphor. The disembodying upside-downness of Della Porta's camera obscura, the shadows created by light falling on Niepce's photographic emulsion producing a "negative" image, the montage necessitated by the frailty and shortness of early celluloid film - these have become the mechanophors which convey the richness and complexity of our experience. No less with the whole of Edison's oeuvre. Like the lightbulb, the phonograph casts its own unearthly shadows upon listening, upon our memory and our sense of time. It is the false and deceptive quality of the voice which emanates from the phonograph or gramophone, compounded by the mindless soliloquy of the of the broken record, which lends its root to our word "phony". The exact repetition of this falsehood ingrains itself in our memories, creating a sequence of recognition, anticipation and fulfillment which is in itself addictive and predictive. Prior to the invention of mechanical recording, references to the now commonplace phenomenon of a tune-running-thru-the-head appear absent from literature.

A dream of early phonographers was to read with their eyes the wiggly line inscribed by the needle as a lasting trace upon the wax - allowing the illiterate to write, the uncouth to compose, even the spirits of the dead to speak. Such efforts soon proved futile.4 The scopic impulse relentlessly afoot in western civilization appears to have been delayed by almost an epoch. If the nineteenth century had invoked sight alone to comprehend the infinity of space, ( superseding the eighteenth century's insistence that space is known by the sense of touch,) a more ancient tactile paradigm persisted in matters of memory, perhaps due to their traditional codings in the form of renaissance spatial-mnemonic systems. Until very recently - the 1980's, - the memorative act of audition still consisted of dragging a diamond stylus, fingernail-like, across a vinyl blackboard. As the needle played, it eroded the memory it touched. Ever so slightly, as the needle touched, the sounds present in the room in which it played were minutely engraved and added to the record.

Edison's earliest efforts were feeble impressions on tinfoil, easily erased by the act of playing them. Indeed, the first recording was so frail it only could reproduce once and then die. Later efforts in wax proved durable enough to be played dozens of times before the effects of the mechanism combined with the sounds in the environment would modify and erase them forever. And still each record was a unique object. The Edison laboratory's earliest cylinders of mass production were created by capturing the sound of an orchestra on twenty or more phonographs - the orchestra's output of a two minute waltz might thus amount to many hundred cylinders per day 5 . By the turn of the century, with the advent of electroplating and gold-molding, many thousands of records could be manufactured, sold, played, enjoyed and worn out before the orchestra would need to reconvene and intone the waltz anew. The escalation of this economic exercise culminates in the digital compact disc - a consumer item whose durability is adamantine and whose relation to the original soundwaves - thus its use-value - is determined wholly by the ruling taste. The laser touches but fleetingly upon the groove, the impact of its photons abrading no material whatsoever. The rupture is complete. The emancipation of memory from touch has been fulfilled. The age of the palimpsest is over.



Extras

Paul DeMarinis Webpage
CD: 'The Edison Effect: A Listener's Companion'
Paul DeMarinis @ Wikipedia
Video: Paul DeMarinis Profile @ Spark
Paul DeMarinis Artist Statement
Book: 'Paul DeMarinis: Buried in Noise'
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p.s. Hey. ** David Ehrenstein, Thanks a lot for the info re: Fellini/Rota. I didn't realize or I forgot that all those very late films weren't Rota scored. That would explain a few things. Why are Scorcese and DiCaprio gathering at the AC? Should be interesting, yeah. ** Sypha, Hey. I just saw your comment this morning and resent the blurb in case you didn't receive it for some reason. Strange. Anyway, if you don't get it this time, let me know, and I could maybe try sending it via Facebook if there's some glitch going on between your email account and mine. ** Allesfliesst, That is trippy that Bargeld is your new neighbor. He's turned into such a dandy. Still no internet? Mine is still almost unusable mud if that makes you feel any better. Oh, a video of 'Jerk' for Xmas. I think that's doable. I think I have a copy here. When I finish my novel in the next few days and start weeding through the piles, I'll see. If I have it, I'll dupe it for you, but you'll have to keep it between you and me. And you'll have to send me your address. But, yeah, should be easyish. ** Chris Cochrane, I have a busy two months coming up after the top of the year, yeah. That Keith Rowe gig sounds really good. Sure, Oren Ambarchi: Stephen talks about him a lot. Icy out here too. Awesome that the demo is shaping up. We'll be heavily editing buddies in spirit and arms this week. ** Pilgarlic, Laud Humphries was a professor of mine during my one year of university. Taught gay studies. My college was a hippieish place that, if memory serves, was the first US university to offer gay studies as a degree-earning option. Nice fella. Glad to hear you share my Buche lust. I promise to document the carving and eating in full. ** Trees, Thanks for the shack progress report. My plastic desk chair feels like pins and needles. I'll check out Nu S3nsae. I like cute, kind drummers. Did you work on the poems finally? One certainly hopes so. One being me at least. Re: the parents and writing question, well, my parents asked to see my writing early on, but not for very long. After a few shocks, they stopped asking and started saying, 'Oh, that sounds interesting, honey'. When they asked, first I warned and then I showed if the warning didn't work, basically. I suppose it alienated me from the family, but I have to say it was for the best. But my relationship with my parents was always pretty distanced until they and I got older. I guess I would clearly spell out what the things are that your folks are asking to read, and, if they still want, let them eat cake or whatever? ** Stan Czarnecki, I only ever made a living doing journalism very sporadically and mostly not. You kind of have to become a full-time, heavily committed journalist to live on the proceeds. So, yeah, maybe the UK is the way to go. You have any leads there? Crazy day you had there, man. Hope the shoot this weekend went really well. ** Polter, Hey. Hm, I don't know if active cats automatically escape fatness. Do some cats have slow metabolisms and others fast ones like we do sometimes? It seems like they would, right? Unless that's a specifically human quirk or punishment or whatever. Being defined is the enemy, no? I think it is. I just want myself to function properly and leave my mind and emotions alone. I like the cold here so far. Except the rain/cold combination. I want more snow. Parisian snow is very moist or warm or something. The ground melts it. That's very disappointing. I bet your snow up there is very macho and awesome. Anyway, yeah. I really do love the way you write. ** The Dreadful Flying Glove, I was a huge Bonzos fan in the early 70s. Innes and Stanshall were such great foils. Stanshall ratcheting Innes; Innes smoothing Stanshall. I like their solo stuff too, but there's something missing. I think my favorite Bonzos song is 'My Pink Half of the Drainpipe'. You know it, right? What a great song. I think I've seen bits from that Innes TV show. I think I'll pick up those files. What does he do now? He's still alive, right? ** G, Hey. Welcome to here and thanks much. Your blog is brand newish, right? I like it so far. I love 'gratitude'. Did you write that sentence? It's beautiful. Everyone, G is new around here, and he has a new blog too, and it already has Liberace, The Muppets, Patti Smith, and words of wisdom on it. Check it out. Nice work. Please come back anytime and as often as you wish. ** Josh Feola, Hey. That does sound really interesting. I don't I know anything from or of the experimental music scene there. Can I access that site/ magazine/ events platform? Even if it's in Chinese, I'd love to have a look. ** Steevee, Sounds par for the course re: 'Cruising'. I don't remember the movie well enough to remember the possible actor discrepancy. I do remember that gay reggae track though. Trippy. ** Adjoun, Hey. Sorry I haven't written yet. Bad timing. My brain is eaten alive by an evil novel right now. But I will write you imminently. Nice reading list. I've always wished I could read that Reve novel. I think it was my Dutch ex-boyfriend's favorite Reve. Yeah, I'll be doing my, whatever, best of the year lists soon, I guess. I need to start making notes. ** _Black_Acrylic, Really glad you finally got rescued and out and about, B. Really sorry it didn't last for long. ** Andrew, I want to be snowed in instead of snowed under. Grr. ** Bernard Welt, No surprise, I'm sure, that I have about, oh, half or slightly more of those images in my porn magazine collection in LA. Basically, all the images where the guys don't have beards and muscles, ha ha. Thanks a ton again, B, and I look forward to volume two, of course. ** Creative Massacre, Oh, ouch, well, just buckle down and it'll all be over soon, right? ** Squeaky, Will do. West Coast plans are still vague. I won't be in SF more than those couple of appointed days, though. That's for pretty sure. Wow, it was that long ago that you were here? Kind of scary. ** Inthemostpeculiarway, Hey. It kind of does sound like you're sick. Or like you have one of those impending sicknesses that take a long time to never turn into any recognizable kind of sickness. I get those. I like your Xmas shrub and its evil light. I don't know if they sell Xmas trees here or not. I haven't seen any. They don't have vacant lots in Paris. Weird if they don't sell them. Glad to hear that you wrote. That's always good news. But, yeah, I hope you wake up well or lighter on your feet. Did you? My weekend: It was kind of exhausting and frustrating. I worked, worked, worked. I'm frustrated because I had this idea in my head that I could finish one chapter per day, but I worked from morning to night all weekend on the fourth chapter, and it still isn't close to being finished. I don't know how I thought it was so close to being right. Now I'm worried the last three chapters will be fucked up too. Anyway, I'd wanted to finish the novel by Tuesday, and that isn't going to happen. Now my goal is by the end of the week. We'll see. Uh, I didn't do much else. Oh, I went to the Louvre with Yury, Gisele, and Jean-Luc Verna to watch KTL perform a live music score to Murnau's silent film 'Sunrise'. Let me see if I can find a link to show you what it was. Yeah, here. I don't know what I would have thought of the movie if it had had its normal music, but KTL made it relentlessly gloomy and doomy even when the characters were happy, and that was good. I had coffee with Kiddiepunk and Oscar yesterday both to see them and try to wake my extremely burnt out brain up so I could work some more, and it helped for a couple of hours. We still didn't see Harry Potter, but we will this week no matter what. I'm getting kind of excited to see the 'Tron' remake. It was cold, and it snowed for a while, but then it rained and destroyed the very thin layer of snow, which was melancholy. Hm, really, I didn't do much else. My life is on brain-frying hold at the moment. But, every day, I do try to do something interesting to tell you about, even when I fail. Okay, today is ahead and wide open, I guess. How was yours? ** Kevin Killian, Hi, Kevin! Well, I'll actually be hosting you rather than reading with you, but I'll try to make sure that my introductions are New Narrative classics. You reviewed my dad's book? Wow, I'll go find that post-haste. That's so sweet of you. Dude, aww. Love to you, fellow forager. ** Misanthrope, Well, ha ha, it is a lot to ask, especially since it's on my dime, but it is asked and answered. Or it will be answered to best of my abilities. If you can come, awesome, but if you can't, there'll always be Paris. ** I think that's the lot of you. I need to go work. You don't need to investigate 'The Edison Effect', but I really hope you will. That is all. See ya.