The Transient Curation of Internet Experiments

A murmuration of starlings
Why make art no one can see? Ever since we ran the radio station for Southbank’s Overture Weekend inside the Hayward Gallery, I’ve been playing two webpages at once as occasional experiments in sound mashing (had to cover for a programe maker who was late and I’d none of my music with me). the incidental nature works well if you know the music, but sometimes a lucky dip into a genre, or bizarre adjective that’s been sused to tag a track can work too, e.g. “japanese 60s psy” and “field recording.” Sometimes though, it’s an audio-visual jam, like this video-track mash that works particularly well. Try it. An exercise in transient curation.

Stream this Beak album for free, with this deliciously personal video of a murumuration of starlings (with the sound off, starting at 0.22″). The reason I love it is that no one knows why the starlings – traditionally considered a prophetic bird in British folklore –  ritually do this awe-inspiring dance, much in the way some of these transient works are privately understood, and privately enjoyed. Beak, who are in Bristol, murmur as they sing over the twisting, fluttering music – almost keeping the meanings close, private, just for themselves.

Overture Radio, Southbank
Recently the BBC posted an article called Why Make Art No-one Can See? 
Several artists around the world are making a feature of this  “movement nascondere”, but while they remain clearly archived and even shown in galleries, there are many who’s work remains immediately transient, and even more contiguous and lo-fi.