#williambasinski

[sonus-vitae]

William Basinski - Watermusic

One of my favorite ambient albums. Great to chill or sleep to.

[caelansimms]

Moss is out now - Link is in my bio to my bandcamp . . . . #bandcamp #ambient #ambientmusic #electronicmusic #experimental #williambasinski #reverb #loopmusic #dronemusic https://www.instagram.com/p/CoxDs1LL93p/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[fohoma]

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Hostia jodida, #ViernesdeMetal: #Haken | Fauna #AttheAltaroftheHornedGod | Heart of Silence #FullofHellandPrimitiveMan | Suffocating Hallucination #WilliamBasinski | The Clocktower at the Beach #Enslaved | Heimdal #XiuXiu | Ignore Grief Y más.

[standarddesigns]

Impressively weathered sports murals outside today's basketball venue. . #mural #weathering #distressedart #distressing #art #painting #sports #basketball #athletics #highjump #sprint #100m #sportingvenues #sportsvenues #sportart #disintegration #williambasinski #stevereich #hainbach #foundart https://www.instagram.com/p/CnZ5hnEoB77/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ar-mah]

،

في أحد مشاهد الفيلم الإيطالي "غرفة الابن" للمخرج "ناني موريتي"، ظَلّ الأبُ، الذي يُعاني الوسواسَ القهريّ، يُعيد تشغيلَ مقطعٍ من مقطوعة موسيقية، مرارًا وتكرارًا، بشكلٍ هوَسيّ، خارجٍ عن سيطرته، فيما بدا. مقطع قصير لا يتعدى بضعَ ثوانٍ، يُكرره الأب على جهاز التشغيل، خلال إحدى نوباته الوسواسية، جالسًا إلى أفراد أُسرته ومنفصلًا عنهم في آنٍ. وفي هذه الأثناء، تظهرُ لنا على الشاشة ذكرى للأب مع ابنه الفقيد، لِنُدركَ على الفور أن كل هذه التكرارات ليست سوى تجسيد حركي لرغبته المُلحّة في استعادة ما لا تُرجى له عودةٌ. إنها محاولة يائسة منه للتحايل على خط الزمن وكسره؛ حياتي ممثّلَةٌ في هذه المقطوعة، ومن ثَم فمَقدرتي على الرجوع إلى مقطع يَستهويني فيها، تَعني مَقدرتي على استعادة أيّام خَلَت. وكَذا يظلّ يحاولُ، يُطاوعُه الجهاز، ولا يفعلُ الزمنُ، فيُعيد الكَرّة.

ماذا لو قَبضنا على يوم هادئ، وسَحبْناه على بقيّة العُمر؟ ماذا لو كانت القصيدة، كل القصيدة، الصورةَ الشعريّةَ التي استوقفتنا قليلًا، فأغلقنا الكتاب بعدها؟ ماذا لو قصصنا المشهدَ الدافئ، وصنعْنا بتكراره فيلمًا؛ ننامُ قبل أن ينتهي؟ وماذا لو علِقتْ في المُشغِّل، عن غير قصدٍ، النغمةُ التي نُحبّ، وتوالتْ بطولِ حُزنٍ قديم؟

تَمنحُنا موسيقى "ويليام باسينسكي" نفسَها، كاملةً، في أولى ثوانيها. نغمةٌ واحدة، أو اثنتان، فتكرارٌ طويل لعشرات الدقائق، تاركةً إيّانا في فُسحةٍ، بلا ترقّبٍ ولا توقّعات. إنها طمأنينةُ بقاءِ النغمة التي نحب، هنا وعلى الدوام، دون خوفٍ من أن يسلِبها منّا المقطع التالي. نغمةٌ، أو اثنتانِ، وعشراتُ الدقائق، إلى أن تتداخل الموسيقى، ببطءٍ، مع مُستمعها، فلا يدري إن كان حقًّا يستمع إليها، أم يتوَهّمها في دواخله. وشيئًا فشيئًا، تَستبدلُ إيقاعَ الوقت عنده، وتصبح تنويعًا آخرَ لدقّات ساعته. نغمةٌ، اثنتانِ، تستغرقانِ لحظاتٍ معدوداتٍ لإدراكهما، وزمنًا طويلًا لعَيشِهما، فيما نعيش الحياةَ. وبهذا المعنى، ليستْ موسيقى باسينسكي، بحدّ ذاتها، حَدثًا، بل فضاءُ أحداثٍ. وهي، لذلك، لا تحاول قولَ أيّ شيءٍ، وإنمّا تَمنحُنا أنفسَنا لِيكونَ لنا أن نقولَ.

[saintmiyale]

[anunmarriedwoman1978]

Me when William basinski on the work playlist

[august-undergrounds]

save me watermusic … watermusic … watermusic save me

[amr-hossameldin]

Playing On The Interstellar Radio

I was inspired to write this piece by the following track. I also wrote it listening to it. I highly encourage you to play it in the background before you begin reading.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjMO-39Sw10&feature=emb_logo&ab_channel=WilliamBasinski-Topic

An empty spaceship is silently drifting in interstellar space. Its launch was many, many generations ago. In fact, Earth and the entire solar system have long since ceased to exist. No being alive knows about this ship. Interstellar space is expanding and accelerating at that. No one is there to calculate whether it will ever reach another system, or whether it will forever be drifting in deep space. The spaceship is cold and empty. It is nowhere, and going nowhere. Nobody knows what this ship passes by on its journey, what it sees. It might pass a once-in-a-several-life-times astronomical event one day and that event might think it is being witnessed, that it is finally in history. But there is nobody there, nobody witnessing.

To the event it is like being stranded alone for years in the middle of the ocean. You’ve been hungry and sick for as long as you can remember. You know you’re dying, actively ending. But this isn’t the worst part. The worst part is that nobody knows what’s happening to you. You’re suffering and you’re suffering alone. Until one day you see a ship far away for the first time. You don’t really care about being rescued; you know you’re already dead. You’re just hoping someone will find the body. You’re hoping someone will find the bones, the marks you left on the island, anything. Your greatest fear is for you to have never existed. Your desire to exist is more desperate than your desire to live. But you’re not dead just yet. You live long enough to see that the ship passing you by is empty. You spend your last remaining day dying with the knowledge that your existence is not at all different from its absence.

Does it matter to be witnessed? At first thought it may not. It may be futile, all of it. Whatever mark we leave will inevitably cease or exist as well. This planet, solar system, galaxy, and universe will all cease to exist at some point. We are all fighting to exist only for a while. The condition for existing is even more stringent for sentient life, for humans. Just leaving a physical mark is not enough. All that says is that a human was here, but who? A person existed. A brother / sister /father /mother /husband /wife /friend /worker /artist /scientist existed, but did [insert your name] exist? The person you are when you’re all alone, did they really exist if nobody knows about them? If you have nobody to be that person with? Even if you are lucky enough to know someone who can ‘see’ you, they too will end someday. You will go from being [your name], to [job title/family title], to just a human being(like on the island), to nothing at all. These are different levels of existence, and existing as yourself is the hardest and briefest phase.

And yet, it is ultimately all there is. To be witnessed, to have existed, is all that could be. It may sound very philosophical at this point, poetic and ambient. But there may be more to it. In quantum mechanics, that is actually how anything happens or exists. There must be an observer or nothing will exist. If a particle is away from all other fields or particles, if it in no way interacts with any other particle or field, how do you know it exists? It’s one thing to say if there is absolutely no evidence for it, does it exist? And another thing entirely to say if there is no interaction with anything, does the wavefunction ever collapse? This interaction is what we mean here by an observation. It’s like the state of Schrodinger’s cat before measurement. Does it really exist if no one ever opens the box?… It may all very well be futile. And yet, it is all there is.

This makes me wonder that maybe this human longing to leave a mark, for companionship, may be more than just human nature after all. Maybe it is more fundamental. The anthropic principle states that scientific observation of the universe would not even be possible if the laws of the universe had been incompatible with the development of sentient life, human life. What if one of these laws was the indispensability of observers? What if our longing to leave a mark is just the ever-continuing effort of the universe to exist, to be?

I wonder if such a spaceship really is drifting out there. I like to think that by thinking about it, it did leave a mark after all. I wonder what kind of music was-or maybe still is- playing on this spaceship.

[sombreset]

Me on the girls night:

[sonus-vitae]

William Basinski - The Disintegration Loops

A classic ambient album. Quite the journey.

[ar-mah]

هذي الموسيقى تشبه النداء الطويل إلّي جاي من بعيد، خافت ومو معروف مصدره.

[useanotherday]

Listened to William Basinski's tribute to David Bowie again today - just such excellent ambient music 🎼 #music #ambientmusic #williambasinski — view on Instagram https://ift.tt/NLmtT7C