News about the 4th edition of the Festival that will take place in Berlin all through the year 2008. The information about the former editions that were held on 22-26 november 2006, 13-22 february 2007 and 1-29 august, 2007 are still to be found somewhere in the jungle of this blop.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Different Tracks

I just returned from the Netherlands.
Next week in Berlin I will do two performances,
and then it is preparation time again,
not for the third edition of the festival, but for own future tours.

Meanwhile Tobias of is doing a wonderfull job.
The festival is put on air every day.
He will continue transmitting untill coming sunday 25th of february.
Furthermore his festival cuts will be broadcasted by radio`s around the world.

Best is to go to to follow the latest news and to tune in.
The coming days I will do a round up,
and when I am back in Berlin,
I want to discover what can be done on the next edition.
Happy listenings to you all,

Thursday, February 15, 2007

put on repeat

Hello and sorry for delay in reports.
I am in The Hague right now, on a little tour.

The festival will go on air again from saturday onwards.
tune in to

greetings from the sunny side of the Netherlands,


and thanks to you all.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

vulgus vs. bombast

Bombast needs brassbands and uniforms. World war one was once considered the fresh and joyfull war. Marching soldiers caused much enthusiasm on their farewell parade. Young girls threw flowers, the masses cheered; Nietszche got a hard-on when he saw the young guys in uniform. It was such a nice world. The war got lost by both sides. Next folkloristic festivities resulted in the same behaviour, from which you can draw a straight line to the kids queing up at the door of MTV's studios, or waiting at a redcarpetted entrance to a cinema. Yesterday's bombast is on sale as a postcard.

Words are like paper ships sailing off for a sure shipwreck. All the words you choose for a critical interpretation of today's society will disappear in a Ruther Hauers quote, used in Blade Runner - yes the one with the tears. Bombast, Potemkin's village, vulgairity will be swallowed by the ocean of information. Bye-bye.

But sometimes there are eyewittnesses, like yesterday at the Gallery Takt. And when someone likes to expose himself, he is bound to go under in conceptualism. Jeff Gburek at sunday's performance must have known, or intuited that his performance would go beyond. He grew into a situation that as a whole could have served as a field recording, if only somebody would have pointed his microphone to him.

The evening of the archived sound set off as an installation. Somebody pretended he was participating at the festival. But the lights were for his video camera; light and video both on insectlike tripods. Lightning and situation way too big, and thus too intimidating. No intimacy was possible. I was witnessing someone who pretended to talk to an audience, but was in fact acting in front of a camera.

Lasse Marc Riek changed the situation with one elegant gesture. He made me turn off all the lights, because he had seen there was enough light from outside coming in through the windows. He sat down on the floor, and in a very modest way brought everyone back to the place I had intended for this festival: the no-budget side of life, far away from the vulgarity of sponsorships.

Lasse's action, that was followed by his sobre presentation of church recordings, was an initiation into wonder and marvel. Nicolas, also in the dark, guided the listener into the fascinating world of a jesuit priest and his recordings from 1975, compositions based on field recordings made by reel-to-reel manipulations. Nicolas explained that his ex-jesuit neighbour never wanted to publish this compositions: he used them as "acoustic furniture." He could have continued for hours, and probably I will ask him to do so on an other occasion.

Rob Curgenven finished the evening. Also he was seated on the floor. And luckily he felt like talking about his adventures in Australia, especcially in the Northren Territory. In the best tradition of storytelling he visualised a world of dust storms and heavy rainfall, broke tension with a recording of an asthmatic dog, and made everybody loose their sense of time. His set ended at 2.40.

To be continued in the Electronic Church this evening with Berlin Soundscapes,
see you there.

The performces of the Day of the Archived Sounds will be transmitted by this sunday evening.

Friday, February 09, 2007

delay, lay, lay, lay, lay

I discover every day the limitations of the georgian calendar.
Too many saints have brought us these 24 hour restriction.

Jersey Moon,
Yellow car,
Purple skin

Kentucky Twi - light.

All I can do is sing when I am on my bicycle.
Tomorrow - saturday - three guests for an hour each of live radio
at Le Petit Mignon in the Sanderstrasse in Berlin, Neukoeln.
It will start at 14.00
with Momus, Kate Donovan and Marco Lampis

Another live radio will be made at Gallery Takt,
some time in the afternoon, probably 16.00 at monday.

Meanwhile I hope to write some reviews of the evenings.

It is 19.46 now; I will jump on my bike and cycle to
club der Polnischen Versager in the Torstrasse,

and crash a while in an easy chair,
dreaming of Bessarabian wedding parties,
in Luxemburg, the capital of Australia.

Wishing I was here,
yours, in Betweendays.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Audience at Gallery Takt (detail)

Paulo Raposo, our guest from Lissabon

feedbacksociety + tobias, our radioman

Radio and more Radio will continue their transmissions. If live stream from Monty this evening is possible we have to see on the spot.

New features of the festival are scheduled for friday and saturday afternoon in le petit mignon from 14.00 onwards, Berlin time. On friday Rob Curgenven and I (Rinus van Alebeek) will combine words and sounds and impressions. On saturday from 14.00 onwards Momus, Kate Donovan and maybe Jeff Gburek will do an hour of radio each.

The sound material will not be necessarily field recordings; Guillaume's shop is full of music. And so will be your radio.

Also these shows will be transmitted by

Found Tapes and Found Recorders

Yesterday Harold Schellinx arived from Paris via Amsterdam. No, he arived the day before yesterday; the snow arived yesterday evening, and covered all the trees that we encountered on our deepnight ride home along Puschkin Allee and Alt Treptow. That yester yesterday (Stevie Wonder singing in the background) was a splendorous day, blu sky, no clouds, beautifull winterllght over a mideuropean town in the early weeks of 2007.

We were going on bicycle to Gallery Takt. In ten minutes of cycling Harold had to stop two times to collect some found tapes, at the other side of the road. Not to frustrate his art of tapehunting, but still to get away from this stop and go rhythm, I took the road along the Rummelsburger See, a scenic path, rather for joggers and grandparents without their grandchild as for a fanatic tapehunter and collector like Harold.

Galleries are not exciting, so I won't say a word about the exhibitions. Maybe I'll put some pictures up on the various blops. This doesn't mean that gallery Takt, or the Transitlounge are closed. I, for my part, discourage people to come. I am actually recording a new cassette there. I won't chase visitors away. But I will give them my dictaphone and send them outside for some time, to catch some sounds.

Yesterday Magnus came walking in. I gave him my dictaphone and he returned after some five minutes. Then we spent 35 minutes to find the piece he had recorded. At the end we had to conclude that he had recorded a very minimalistic piece of silence with the pause button put on hold. Then he disappeared some longer time. And came back with a very quiet piece. "Streets are deserted at this time of the day." Lucky him. He wanted to stay twenty minutes, just to bring some pieces of tape he had collected over the years, but stayed untill closing time, also because his recording was running on low pitch.

in the meantime I had finished my first seven minutes, had made a 16.47 minutes live interview with a radio in Halle (every day around 18.00 Radio Corax in Halle calls one of the artists of the festival to have a talk), had welcomed Charles, who had come from Paris to visit the festival; and this all turned the gallery into a living room somewhere in Friedrichshain.

The doors will be open every day from 12.00 onwards, and will close at monday, maybe around midnight.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007


Her first question was if I had some information. There was non left, because we had used it to pack the Cdr, and what information could there be, if our webpages are already filling up slowly. Then she asked – during the introduction - if I could explain a bit what field recordings were. And also this question found me totally unprepaired. There I was in front of the audience, just saying a word of welcome, no tie, no suit, no speech prepaired, no filosofy that I would like to promote, and no cultural/political manifesto that I would like to shout out loud. In this age of information and commentarism, everyone is educated enough to be master of his or her own thoughts. Why should I invade that area? I used my megaphone to play Beethoven's “Für Elise.” So I left the questions unanswered.

Then Bernhard Gal played. Rob (Curgenven, our first Australian guest) leaned back against the wall, and smiled with heartful satisfaction, and so did I, when we heard Bernhard's technorecordings stumstumming the place. From my position I could look outside, and saw some kids peering through the window, investigative looks, showing that they were ready to conquer another hot spot in town. When Bernhard was ready, I had finished my reflection on field recordings, and explained that it was about a virtual space created by sound and by the person who had made the recordings. What remained was a memory of somebody else's future experience, that we can call fantasy or reflection. I put it different on that evening. And I will put it different again everytime I try to look for definitions.

One of the guests was Nick, in artist life Momus, musician, but also a very disciplined writer/ opinionist/friendly neighbour leaving a note for you when he is abroad. His day to day approach to writing explains why sunday's evening entered his lifejournal. He used a bombastic word to describe two of the performances he had seen. He had gone home when Gilles Aubry played his set of dreamy backyard recordings. The bombastic word he used was 'bombastic'. I like the idea that I would like nineteenth century French novels. Maybe I do. I recently bought two by Victor Hugo, for 50 cent each. Stendhal has been a long time favourite. Every performance by Chirac makes me laugh out loud.

Talking about someone through this medium, which is the internet, is very complicated. Words and arguments get an instant tenton weight. So let me put this clear. I felt a great sympathy for Nick from the first moment on, that I met him. I had never heard about the artist called Momus in my whole life. Now that he is part of the festival, I started to read his lifejournal. I prefer his words to almost most of the words I could buy as printed matter.

Okay. From my position I had a good view on almost everyone's back. But Nick I saw, ever more comfortably leaning into his thoughts, while listening. The result of these thoughts evolves around the word bombastic. In his view two of the performances were bombastic, it is pretentious, pompoueuoues. It is two days now that he uses this description.

There is another thing about field recordings. You can hardly dance to it. Sometimes I try, but it makes me sway like a lazy kite in a cloudless sky. (I mean rteally lazy; I also know them kites who think they are Ray Charles singing:”Baby one more time,” before setting of, head down, to earth like a Japanese kamikaze.) Back to that summer's day, and the kite hanging in the sky, and voices coming form a far. You know, the recordings can be used like postcards, as a little sound message from the other part of the world. They can be used as a diary or as a fun thing to do, while running around Berlin for three days. They can be used to compose a memory, to change it in a moment of bliss, rather then to cultivate its nostalgifying effect, like Stephan Leonard did. They can be used to undermine a theoretical approach, as Jeff Gburek did in his magnifying magnificent magnetic performance.

Maybe Jeff and Stephan will tell me that it was about something else, and yes it was about something else, because it was also considered bombastic. But if you go to the well, you will find all the pretty girls of the village. And each of the girls will be somebody's favourite. Except for the most beautifull one, because she will give you a true sense of homecoming. Imaginary homecoming of course; a home built by her love and your own fantasy, and all the words and dreams and images that fit into it.

Momus will play on friday. I look forward to visit Japan. Jeff Gburek will play again on thursday; I am most curious. I don't have to go through airports, or visit museums for that matter. It all happens outside the potemkinist depliant world of the institutions. Except for this last sentence, there is nothing bombastic about that.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Wij, Beatrix, Koningin der Nederlanden, etcetera, etcetera

's Gravenhage, or Den Haag as it is called on those rare occasions you find a Dutchman speak his own language, to everybody else, who is expected to speak “somekindofenglish,” The Netherland's second language (it is not Arab, as many worried neighbours and other assorted shopkeepers would like to believe), to those foreigners, Den Haag will be pronounced The Hague. The more exotic the Dutch accent, the more the somekindofanglicised version of the name of not our capital will sound like a kind of fish. On another occasion I will explain you more about psycho-onomatopoeia and Dutchmen looking at their breakfast in a funny way, when you find yourself in a North Sea resort where they serve hake. Drop me a mail, in case of emergency.

Which brings us to the court of our Queen. She resides in 's Gravenhage, as does Jan Pieter, the prime minister, but don't count on him in this little story. The Queen, however, is not like any other queen. Ours is known to like the modern arts; she once curated a show in the Stedelijk Museum of Amsterdam, and that was only a few weeks after – in the same museum - you could find Ursala Andress's dresses on display, also the one she wore in 8 1/2, Fellini's movie, when she stepped into the Fontana dei Trevi, and called out for 'Marcello.' You remember her?

And this brings me to the extraordinary collection of hats, of Wij Beatrix, Koningin der Nederlanden etcetera, etcetera. One day we will all die, except for Beatrix, of course, who as a head of state will directly ascend to heaven, as the after-life lounge of the illuminati is called. There she won't need her earthly hats, because those divine ones will be divine. Then the year is 2048, and to commemorate 400 years of Kingdom of the Netherlands etcetera, etcetera, a new museum will be opened, the museum of Beatrix Regina's hats.

That's only 41 years from now.

Only to tell you that it was her, excuse me, Her pleasure to send three messengers to the German capital. They presented themselves as Feedbacksociety, and they pronounced this name in such a joyfull manner that I understood field bag society. And in these days of project being the first word on every second citizin's lips, I thought that these young guys were on an everlasting mission. So I handed them my dictaphones and told them where to find the Treptow Flee Market. And this was Friday. And on Saturday they were back with more dictaphones and cassette recorders, and a cassette with Turkish music, total costs: 12 euro. I almost ate my hand.

But they had also enough minutes of freshly recorded sounds. Were you there last saturday? It was their first appearance in Berlin.

One of the girlfriends was called Wilhelmina. Not quite Wilhelmina, because she, Queen Wilhelmina, Beatrix grandmother, was a WinstonChurchill kind of woman, shorter, with two legs, and always wearing wintercoats of her husband who was twice her size. You don't want your daughter to look like that. That's why she opened the second opening of the foundtapesfoundsoundsfoundrecordersexhibition. Were you there when that happened? It was her first postpacketopening in Berlin.

Now they are back in the Hague, writing a postcard in a North Sea resort. Probably it will arive in some days. Probably it will have a funny smell.

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Saturday's failed webstream

Hello listeners and visitors,

Yesterday's stream got cancelled because of unapplicable internet connection.
The performances by Feedbacksociety and Paulo Raposo got recorded,
and will be transmitted later.

for the latest information on transmision schedule.

festival to go

Submitted recordings are now on line.
Download and enjoy.

If you are a recorder yourself you can submit untill the 10th of february.

you can find the festival to go at
go to projekte
click on second image from the left.

sorry for not putting a direct link,
This blopthing says control+shift+a for putting up a link.
I don't get it.
next time I will make life more easy for you.
but first I have to find out how I can make it more easy for me.


The festival will be covered by
Programmes will include live streams, interviews, reports.
Several radiostations from around the world will transmit
a one hour selection of the festival.
I don't know if all of them will receive the same hour of selection,
because will transmit a lot of sound during these festivaldays.

An extra feature will be presented on location chez 'le petit mignon',
a record/cassette/cdr store, art gallery,
meeting place for Berlin Neukoelnisch inhabitants.

You will find loads of releases by independent labels there.
Musicians from the festival will choose their favourites and make radio.

more information