We were doing so well, working in 3D, shaping the birdsong in the virtual space of the computer, doing things impossible in the ‘real’ world. Then a glitch, a crack opened up in the digital realm and … all lost! Back to square one. Back to the paper mockup I made earlier, something tangeable to hold on to whilst reconstructing the work in the 3D space of the computer. But looking at this paper construct brings to mind that this blog can function in a similar way; providing a backstop, a thought or image captured and made public, and through this act taking on a permanence not possible in the studio. Something to hold on to, and move forward from.
When you see the skylark’s song like this, you can’t but help to read it as a sonic sentence, complete with grammer, phrasing and meaning. But what to make of all this complexity, beauty and the celebration of life that it represents? Working with raw material such as this, it is hard to not be stunned into silent inactivity. Reminders of Japanese calligraphic scrolls.
We seem to have cracked it! Transforming bird calls into 3D landscapes. I know, I was working on this a few years back making 2D images of 3D landscapes for the Birds of the Antarctic project, but that is as far as it got at the time (partly because of the realities of working to commission: once one project is finished you move on to the next, with no time to develop what you have just been working on). But now, coming out of my work in the Cotswold Water Park, and the significance of the Bittern in this context (I will blog about that soon), I am working on some glass engravings of bird calls for a sculpture show in the summer. Thanks Matt and Tom for helping with this, and for all those who produced the free Blender software that is making this possible, in particular Hans.P.G.