Those compositions that dance around intelligibility provoke attention to the remarkable process within everyday conversations, in which we attempt to interpret spoken utterances and attribute meaning to them – especially when challenges of volume, clarity, accent and other factors intervene. The difficulty – or impossibility – of deciphering language increases as selections are manipulated, showcasing the fallibility of “normal” communication, while also illustrating the humor and frustration that sometimes arises. Echo tracks of a single voice, especially when altered in pitch, can also serve as a “Greek chorus,” amplifying or questioning the assertions of the original. This phenomenon suggests the “playback” of phrases that occurs as we regularly process speech.   

Often, a speaker’s personal vocal patterns and cadences lend musicality to a composition – whether or not its components remain recognizable. This phenomenon parallels the experience of listening to songs in a foreign language – or to classical opera! Particularly when using multiple subjects, I find their vocalizations – whether in original form or distorted – can serve as instruments, comparable to traditional orchestration.

Sometimes, instead of intelligibility, rhythm is the predominant feature. In creating “French,” and “Brittany,” I pasted those words in a sequence, then selectively sped them up and slowed them down. When the words are accelerated beyond comprehensibility, we tend to re-interpret the flow of sound, looking for meaning. Meanwhile, the slowed-down versions reveal component sounds that are “meaningless,” but intriguing to experience, much like examining a newspaper cartoon that’s magnified to the point of becoming an array of dot clusters. 

The resemblance of extended, low-pitched speech to wolf howls, whale song, and to human chanting and meditative breathing is also uncanny, provoking broader questions about the psychology of listening. Why can the chirping of a mockingbird, or a single bowed note on a cello, for example, absorb one’s attention for 20 minutes – or be dismissed after 20 seconds? 

Similar to the visual artists whom I interview about their collages, “junk” sculptures and recycled glass, I “upcycle” verbal detritus into new and, hopefully, meaningful creations. And, using arts-focused conversations as source material adds a satisfying, subliminal link to the tradition of “art about art.”