artist: ERNST KAREL
title: Heard Laboratories
catalog number: and/35
release year: 2010
format: CD
status: available
title: Heard Laboratories
catalog number: and/35
release year: 2010
format: CD
status: available
Heard Laboratories is a sonic ethnography of scientific research environments
at Harvard University, made using Schoeps cardioid mics in ORTF stereo
configuration and a Sound Devices audio recorder. The sounds of equipment,
devices, and activities draw attention to the physical processes underlying
scientific research, the work underway which provides a ground for our highly
technologized society. In the name of human progress, enormous resources
are devoted to and consumed by such activities, which are both hidden and
taken for granted. Heard Laboratories brings this background to the fore.
Heard Laboratories is a largely abstract soundscape, consisting of edited
sequences of unprocessed location recordings. The liner notes list edit points,
along with descriptions of the research each laboratory is engaged in, so that
the listener may follow along and know what kind of laboratory they are
hearing at any given moment.
The work does not take a position with respect to what is documented, and
neither endorses nor criticizes the research programs of the laboratories
which granted access.
at Harvard University, made using Schoeps cardioid mics in ORTF stereo
configuration and a Sound Devices audio recorder. The sounds of equipment,
devices, and activities draw attention to the physical processes underlying
scientific research, the work underway which provides a ground for our highly
technologized society. In the name of human progress, enormous resources
are devoted to and consumed by such activities, which are both hidden and
taken for granted. Heard Laboratories brings this background to the fore.
Heard Laboratories is a largely abstract soundscape, consisting of edited
sequences of unprocessed location recordings. The liner notes list edit points,
along with descriptions of the research each laboratory is engaged in, so that
the listener may follow along and know what kind of laboratory they are
hearing at any given moment.
The work does not take a position with respect to what is documented, and
neither endorses nor criticizes the research programs of the laboratories
which granted access.
CROW WITH NO MOUTH (JUNE 2010)
Serendipity and a little research yield the damndest things, on your way to
writing about this music.
It turns out I first heard Ernst Karel in 1991 when he was a 21 year old
trumpeter playing under the alias Ernst Long. I was entering a hiatus, at the
onset of that new decade, from listening to free jazz/improv, burnt out following
a decade and a half of unchecked avidity and unchecked vinyl consumption. I
was checking out a little rock music for the first time in a long while, which led
to the Seattle bands Green River, the Melvins, the fantastic Screaming Trees
and the Puccini of that scene, Soundgarden. Soundgarden's Badmotorfinger
was in frequent rotation that year. The trumpet player on that date - Ernst Long,
a.k.a Ernst Karel.
The trajectory from serving as a session musician on that date, to his current
gig as the manager for the Sensory Ethnography Laboratory and Film Study
Center at Harvard, is undoubtedly worth charting. The trumpet prevailed
throughout the ensuing 18 or so years, part of Karel's instrumentation in the
excellent improvising duo EKG, his long-standing collaboration with Kyle
Bruckmann. I first heard EKG about 5 years ago, and have very much enjoyed
the three releases under that name since then. They are a genuinely
electro-acoustic partnership, Bruckmann contributing oboe and English horn,
as well as analogue electronics, Karel moving between trumpet and
electronics. Erasure [the lines drawn between composition and improvisation,
between orchestral and electronic sound sources] is their unfussy metier, and
they have established a small, superlative body of recorded work.
The trumpet cannot be found in Karel's 2010 releases, Heard Laboratories
[and/OAR], or Falter 1-5, Karel's duo with Annette Krebs [Cathnor]. Karel has
varied interests in sound exploration, and there is no place for his playing at
all in Heard Laboratories. So what is he up to, sans trumpet, prowling the
research labs of Harvard with cardioid mics and inarguably acute ears?
Heard Laboratories presents Karel the researcher, documentarian and abstract
musician, foregrounding the sounds of science-the sounds of the labs, the
frequently goofy looking, Grade B sci-fi apparatus that conducts the research
carried on at Harvard, and, as intermittently as the co-equal sounds of tamarins
getting their cages cleaned, or the jarring burst of a telephone ringing, the
transient sounds of the humans doing the research. With an equanimity and
dispassion that would please Cage, all of these sounds are captured,
unprocessed, then edited into five pieces.
When I say Karel was prowling, I mean it-only one track [an in situ recording of
the cognitive evolution lab] involved a stationary mic. The other pieces were
realized with Karel wielding hand-held mics, threading his way through rooms
rarely visited by anyone outside of their specialized resident researchers,
much less someone documenting the physical process that undergirds
everything from chemistry labs, an MRI room, and, most distressingly for this
listener, the squeals and cries of monkeys in the cognitive evolution laboratory.
It is Karel the researcher, who once aimed his mics at the sounds of Kerala in
South India, doing doctoral research in the anthropology of sound, now micing
his colleagues at Harvard for our listening...pleasure? Is there an intention
beyond whatever pleasure is yielded by the raw sounds themselves? I have
not asked Karel this directly, wanting to hear Heard Laboratories for myself
before reading what he might have to say. It is one of several questions that
arose for me as I listened through these five pieces.
And assuredly one of the fundamental questions raised by this sort of work,
this blending of the abstract and the documentary. I am, however, almost
completely unversed in theory and discussions about field recordings, so I get
to tease all this out "unscarred", as a friend has it, "by formal training."
Does foregrounding sounds typically unheard or passed by without our
attending to them necessarily result in sounds that merit our attending to them,
much less music? Of course not. The highest concept cannot offset sounds
that do not engage us, whether by prepossessing us in the cognitive realm, or
in a more visceral and intuitive way. Karel's concept, as I take it anyhow, is
that there is something engaging and gripping in the most quotidian and
therefore ignored sounds in our environs. What Karel does is present these
environments-from an egocentric perspective, the frame around our
self-centered worlds- with a little editing, for our consideration.
Well, Karel comes across as both the Gregory Bateson of EAI [Bateson was
immensely popular with myself and the non-anthropology students I hung out
with, his meta-koans perfect for our stoned, close attentions], and, perhaps
more apposite, much like verite film documentarians who make you intimate
with previously unknown worlds. In this sometimes thrumming, sometimes
plangent sound world, sentience and science cross fade; animal cries and
yelling humans, the mechanized rhythm of an MRI [a claustrophobia-inducing
sound many of us are familiar with], the ambiences of academia. The
phototonics lab [track 5] evokes the industrial drones of Eraserhead.
Then there are the animal labs. Interestingly, there is a statement found on the
And/Oar page for this release that reads
The work does not take a position with respect to what is documented, and
neither endorses nor criticizes the research programs of the laboratories
which granted access.
Clearly this statement of artistic neutrality on what is documented by Karel
anticipates possible questions about the role of the artist and the label on the
ethical/political/social dimensions of what is documented. Again, I refrained
from querying either Karel or and/OAR label head Dale Lloyd prior to this,
wanting to hear Heard Laboratories for myself and reflect on some of these
dimensions of this sort of sound work. I know Lloyd has become even more
committed to And/Oar focusing on location recordings and field studies, saying
the imprint will ...contribute to breaking down the long held beliefs of what can
be considered as music...expanded to include all sounds that can be enjoyed
for various reasons.
Does Karel realize this intention here?
Splendidly, to my ears. There is immense serenity, dark and unsettling goings
on, and the simple hum of efficiency captured in these five pieces. These are
environments previously unmet, fully alive and frequently mysterious. As for
Karel's editing, the shaping of these unprocessed sounds recalls Truman
Capote's line, I believe more in the scissors than I do in the pencil. Heard
Laboratories is a strong statement, released by a strong label committed to
documenting artists who hear music in their own, immediate spheres.
But as Reading Rainbow host Levar Burton said, following every endorsement
of the children's books he presented to his young audience- You don't have to
take my word for it... read it for yourself. You might find a whole other set of
concerns arise, including how is this music? Should the documentarian be
neutral in those rooms? Or none of these.
And I didn't miss the trumpet once.
(Jesse Goin)
Serendipity and a little research yield the damndest things, on your way to
writing about this music.
It turns out I first heard Ernst Karel in 1991 when he was a 21 year old
trumpeter playing under the alias Ernst Long. I was entering a hiatus, at the
onset of that new decade, from listening to free jazz/improv, burnt out following
a decade and a half of unchecked avidity and unchecked vinyl consumption. I
was checking out a little rock music for the first time in a long while, which led
to the Seattle bands Green River, the Melvins, the fantastic Screaming Trees
and the Puccini of that scene, Soundgarden. Soundgarden's Badmotorfinger
was in frequent rotation that year. The trumpet player on that date - Ernst Long,
a.k.a Ernst Karel.
The trajectory from serving as a session musician on that date, to his current
gig as the manager for the Sensory Ethnography Laboratory and Film Study
Center at Harvard, is undoubtedly worth charting. The trumpet prevailed
throughout the ensuing 18 or so years, part of Karel's instrumentation in the
excellent improvising duo EKG, his long-standing collaboration with Kyle
Bruckmann. I first heard EKG about 5 years ago, and have very much enjoyed
the three releases under that name since then. They are a genuinely
electro-acoustic partnership, Bruckmann contributing oboe and English horn,
as well as analogue electronics, Karel moving between trumpet and
electronics. Erasure [the lines drawn between composition and improvisation,
between orchestral and electronic sound sources] is their unfussy metier, and
they have established a small, superlative body of recorded work.
The trumpet cannot be found in Karel's 2010 releases, Heard Laboratories
[and/OAR], or Falter 1-5, Karel's duo with Annette Krebs [Cathnor]. Karel has
varied interests in sound exploration, and there is no place for his playing at
all in Heard Laboratories. So what is he up to, sans trumpet, prowling the
research labs of Harvard with cardioid mics and inarguably acute ears?
Heard Laboratories presents Karel the researcher, documentarian and abstract
musician, foregrounding the sounds of science-the sounds of the labs, the
frequently goofy looking, Grade B sci-fi apparatus that conducts the research
carried on at Harvard, and, as intermittently as the co-equal sounds of tamarins
getting their cages cleaned, or the jarring burst of a telephone ringing, the
transient sounds of the humans doing the research. With an equanimity and
dispassion that would please Cage, all of these sounds are captured,
unprocessed, then edited into five pieces.
When I say Karel was prowling, I mean it-only one track [an in situ recording of
the cognitive evolution lab] involved a stationary mic. The other pieces were
realized with Karel wielding hand-held mics, threading his way through rooms
rarely visited by anyone outside of their specialized resident researchers,
much less someone documenting the physical process that undergirds
everything from chemistry labs, an MRI room, and, most distressingly for this
listener, the squeals and cries of monkeys in the cognitive evolution laboratory.
It is Karel the researcher, who once aimed his mics at the sounds of Kerala in
South India, doing doctoral research in the anthropology of sound, now micing
his colleagues at Harvard for our listening...pleasure? Is there an intention
beyond whatever pleasure is yielded by the raw sounds themselves? I have
not asked Karel this directly, wanting to hear Heard Laboratories for myself
before reading what he might have to say. It is one of several questions that
arose for me as I listened through these five pieces.
And assuredly one of the fundamental questions raised by this sort of work,
this blending of the abstract and the documentary. I am, however, almost
completely unversed in theory and discussions about field recordings, so I get
to tease all this out "unscarred", as a friend has it, "by formal training."
Does foregrounding sounds typically unheard or passed by without our
attending to them necessarily result in sounds that merit our attending to them,
much less music? Of course not. The highest concept cannot offset sounds
that do not engage us, whether by prepossessing us in the cognitive realm, or
in a more visceral and intuitive way. Karel's concept, as I take it anyhow, is
that there is something engaging and gripping in the most quotidian and
therefore ignored sounds in our environs. What Karel does is present these
environments-from an egocentric perspective, the frame around our
self-centered worlds- with a little editing, for our consideration.
Well, Karel comes across as both the Gregory Bateson of EAI [Bateson was
immensely popular with myself and the non-anthropology students I hung out
with, his meta-koans perfect for our stoned, close attentions], and, perhaps
more apposite, much like verite film documentarians who make you intimate
with previously unknown worlds. In this sometimes thrumming, sometimes
plangent sound world, sentience and science cross fade; animal cries and
yelling humans, the mechanized rhythm of an MRI [a claustrophobia-inducing
sound many of us are familiar with], the ambiences of academia. The
phototonics lab [track 5] evokes the industrial drones of Eraserhead.
Then there are the animal labs. Interestingly, there is a statement found on the
And/Oar page for this release that reads
The work does not take a position with respect to what is documented, and
neither endorses nor criticizes the research programs of the laboratories
which granted access.
Clearly this statement of artistic neutrality on what is documented by Karel
anticipates possible questions about the role of the artist and the label on the
ethical/political/social dimensions of what is documented. Again, I refrained
from querying either Karel or and/OAR label head Dale Lloyd prior to this,
wanting to hear Heard Laboratories for myself and reflect on some of these
dimensions of this sort of sound work. I know Lloyd has become even more
committed to And/Oar focusing on location recordings and field studies, saying
the imprint will ...contribute to breaking down the long held beliefs of what can
be considered as music...expanded to include all sounds that can be enjoyed
for various reasons.
Does Karel realize this intention here?
Splendidly, to my ears. There is immense serenity, dark and unsettling goings
on, and the simple hum of efficiency captured in these five pieces. These are
environments previously unmet, fully alive and frequently mysterious. As for
Karel's editing, the shaping of these unprocessed sounds recalls Truman
Capote's line, I believe more in the scissors than I do in the pencil. Heard
Laboratories is a strong statement, released by a strong label committed to
documenting artists who hear music in their own, immediate spheres.
But as Reading Rainbow host Levar Burton said, following every endorsement
of the children's books he presented to his young audience- You don't have to
take my word for it... read it for yourself. You might find a whole other set of
concerns arise, including how is this music? Should the documentarian be
neutral in those rooms? Or none of these.
And I didn't miss the trumpet once.
(Jesse Goin)
THE WATCHFUL EAR (JUNE 2010)
Tonight’s CD is an interesting one. Before we go anywhere let me say that its a
disc by Ernst Karel, who recently had a release on the Cathnor label so you
can all bear that in mind when you read my thoughts on it, as if that makes any
difference to anything, but there you go, the usual caveats in place. The disc is
a set of recordings made by Karel named Heard Laboratories recently released
on the and/OAR label. While much of the work Karel is best known for is
improvisation, most commonly with various forms of electronics and the
occasional trumpet, the five tracks here are I guess, a form of field recording.
He has in fact made some good quality recordings of various laboratories
found in Harvard University. Holding a pair of stereo mics in his hand he has
walked around from room to room capturing mostly non-human sounds, and
they are then presented here without any processing.
This CD raises all kinds of questions for me. First of all, it often sounds very
musical. Now, when we hear field recordings of a roaring sea, or a babbling
brook, or the wind in the trees full of twittering birds we naturally find the
sounds beautiful, often musical. Its interesting here then that I find the sound of
the laboratories, all groaning machines, humming, whistling, fizzing sounds
with the odd sign of human activity, a crash of instruments, a running tap, a
ringing telephone, the occasional voice, just as musically captivating. I find
myself placing these sounds into the context of instrumental parts. While there
has been some editing of the recordings take place, and we do get the
occasional abrupt cut from one room to the next what we hear is mostly just
what can be heard in the laboratory, rooms that the common man does not
often get to hear. What are all those strange noises? What do those machines
do? Why am I connecting one sound to the next and enjoying the way they
seem to bounce off of one another?
The detailed notes on the sleeve do give some context to each of the
recordings here, describing the particular laboratory and what is researched
within. Quite often even after reading the description I am still none the wiser
though, and that’s perhaps one of the things that make all of this interesting- if
all of this technology is lost on me, can I then find another use for it? Does my
translation of these sounds into music insult the work done in these
laboratories? Why do I find this stuff interesting on this level?
The questions I ask about the music are thrown into particular disarray with the
middle track of the five here, which is partly recorded in the Cognitive
Evolution Laboratory, a room that uses tamarin monkeys as a key part of the
research. So during the track we hear the squeaks and chatter of the caged
monkeys. There is no suggestion reading the notes that the animals are
actually placed under any distress in this room, but of course the sounds we
hear on this track take on an extra meaning. I find myself wondering if it is right
for me to be enjoying the recording as a piece of music given the sounds on
the recording. Do we have a moral obligation to not enjoy these sounds as
much as others? Is it right to consider these sounds in the same way as we
consider the hum of a fridge or the buzz of an MRI scanner?
So I find myself wondering why Ernst Karel chose this particular source of
sounds to make this album. Certainly there is a fine array of vaguely electronic
sounding noises on display, and the resulting recordings do sound quite close
to his improvisation. Is the choice of the laboratory a decision made on purely
sonic interest grounds though? A note at the and/OAR website tells us that the
work does not take any position with respect to what is documented, and
neither endorses or criticises the research undertaken in the laboratories, so
is the choice one made and presented to us to make up our own minds about
the worth and morality of the laboratory? Or are we just meant to receive the
recordings as examples of interesting abstracted sonic environments? If we
consider these recordings purely as a collection of found sounds then this is a
thoroughly interesting CD. If though, as I am finding myself doing, we consider
the source of the sounds, and those chattering monkeys in cages in particular,
then a whole new set of considerations come into play regarding this disc. I
suspect Karel’s intentions may well have fallen somewhere in between the
two approaches, and I have certainly been made to think by this unusual,
unexpected album. (Richard Pinnell)
Tonight’s CD is an interesting one. Before we go anywhere let me say that its a
disc by Ernst Karel, who recently had a release on the Cathnor label so you
can all bear that in mind when you read my thoughts on it, as if that makes any
difference to anything, but there you go, the usual caveats in place. The disc is
a set of recordings made by Karel named Heard Laboratories recently released
on the and/OAR label. While much of the work Karel is best known for is
improvisation, most commonly with various forms of electronics and the
occasional trumpet, the five tracks here are I guess, a form of field recording.
He has in fact made some good quality recordings of various laboratories
found in Harvard University. Holding a pair of stereo mics in his hand he has
walked around from room to room capturing mostly non-human sounds, and
they are then presented here without any processing.
This CD raises all kinds of questions for me. First of all, it often sounds very
musical. Now, when we hear field recordings of a roaring sea, or a babbling
brook, or the wind in the trees full of twittering birds we naturally find the
sounds beautiful, often musical. Its interesting here then that I find the sound of
the laboratories, all groaning machines, humming, whistling, fizzing sounds
with the odd sign of human activity, a crash of instruments, a running tap, a
ringing telephone, the occasional voice, just as musically captivating. I find
myself placing these sounds into the context of instrumental parts. While there
has been some editing of the recordings take place, and we do get the
occasional abrupt cut from one room to the next what we hear is mostly just
what can be heard in the laboratory, rooms that the common man does not
often get to hear. What are all those strange noises? What do those machines
do? Why am I connecting one sound to the next and enjoying the way they
seem to bounce off of one another?
The detailed notes on the sleeve do give some context to each of the
recordings here, describing the particular laboratory and what is researched
within. Quite often even after reading the description I am still none the wiser
though, and that’s perhaps one of the things that make all of this interesting- if
all of this technology is lost on me, can I then find another use for it? Does my
translation of these sounds into music insult the work done in these
laboratories? Why do I find this stuff interesting on this level?
The questions I ask about the music are thrown into particular disarray with the
middle track of the five here, which is partly recorded in the Cognitive
Evolution Laboratory, a room that uses tamarin monkeys as a key part of the
research. So during the track we hear the squeaks and chatter of the caged
monkeys. There is no suggestion reading the notes that the animals are
actually placed under any distress in this room, but of course the sounds we
hear on this track take on an extra meaning. I find myself wondering if it is right
for me to be enjoying the recording as a piece of music given the sounds on
the recording. Do we have a moral obligation to not enjoy these sounds as
much as others? Is it right to consider these sounds in the same way as we
consider the hum of a fridge or the buzz of an MRI scanner?
So I find myself wondering why Ernst Karel chose this particular source of
sounds to make this album. Certainly there is a fine array of vaguely electronic
sounding noises on display, and the resulting recordings do sound quite close
to his improvisation. Is the choice of the laboratory a decision made on purely
sonic interest grounds though? A note at the and/OAR website tells us that the
work does not take any position with respect to what is documented, and
neither endorses or criticises the research undertaken in the laboratories, so
is the choice one made and presented to us to make up our own minds about
the worth and morality of the laboratory? Or are we just meant to receive the
recordings as examples of interesting abstracted sonic environments? If we
consider these recordings purely as a collection of found sounds then this is a
thoroughly interesting CD. If though, as I am finding myself doing, we consider
the source of the sounds, and those chattering monkeys in cages in particular,
then a whole new set of considerations come into play regarding this disc. I
suspect Karel’s intentions may well have fallen somewhere in between the
two approaches, and I have certainly been made to think by this unusual,
unexpected album. (Richard Pinnell)
JUST OUTSIDE (JULY 2010)
Like the title says. I imagine we've all been in situations where the sound
environment is so overtly full and rich that we pause and linger, absorbing the
waves, wallowing in the mass of sound. I recall, long before I had any notion
of "field recordings", leaning against the engine housing of the Block Island
ferry, imbibing the deep, complex thrum, losing myself to the vibrations felt
through the metal. Generally, at least in discs that have happened my way,
musicians tend toward subtler territory, sounds that tinge the aural space
instead of saturating it. Not Karel.
The recordings here are unprocessed, taped in various scientific and medical
laboratories at Harvard, though I suspect they're often layered atop one another
(perhaps not!). I'm not sure what to say otherwise, except maybe to describe
them as possessing roughly the kind of hums and buzzes one encounters in
such environments, augmented with the bangs and clinks occasioned by
human activity and the odd voice. It's just there, much as it would be if you
were sitting in the room. I'll say, however, that I enjoy it immensely, love
sitting here, in my room, vicariously experiencing the sonic nature of those
spaces a couple hundred miles away. As in all fine projects of this general
nature, Karel coaxes the listener into perceptions and awareness (s)he wold
likely never have otherwise experienced, always a very valuable thing.
(Brian Olewnick)
Like the title says. I imagine we've all been in situations where the sound
environment is so overtly full and rich that we pause and linger, absorbing the
waves, wallowing in the mass of sound. I recall, long before I had any notion
of "field recordings", leaning against the engine housing of the Block Island
ferry, imbibing the deep, complex thrum, losing myself to the vibrations felt
through the metal. Generally, at least in discs that have happened my way,
musicians tend toward subtler territory, sounds that tinge the aural space
instead of saturating it. Not Karel.
The recordings here are unprocessed, taped in various scientific and medical
laboratories at Harvard, though I suspect they're often layered atop one another
(perhaps not!). I'm not sure what to say otherwise, except maybe to describe
them as possessing roughly the kind of hums and buzzes one encounters in
such environments, augmented with the bangs and clinks occasioned by
human activity and the odd voice. It's just there, much as it would be if you
were sitting in the room. I'll say, however, that I enjoy it immensely, love
sitting here, in my room, vicariously experiencing the sonic nature of those
spaces a couple hundred miles away. As in all fine projects of this general
nature, Karel coaxes the listener into perceptions and awareness (s)he wold
likely never have otherwise experienced, always a very valuable thing.
(Brian Olewnick)
