STARLING: music with birds

Over the past year or two, I’ve been driven to create work relating to birds. Visuals where birds and their flight is made of text and, lately, lots of music engaging with birdsong in various ways.

There’s a long tradition of humans responding in usic to birdsong. I have books of music for recorder or flute that purports to be based on birdsong or that is music to play to birds. The 20th century composer Messaien wrote lots of fascinating music inspired by birdsong. Of course, many flutes sound quite a bit like aspects of passerine songs. I’m expecially intrigued by the non-pitched elements: the noisy clicks, clucks, hissing and so on of birdsong as well as the microtonal aspect—birds aren’t restricted to a 12-note tempered scale.

Why am I/are humans in general so moved by birdsong? It’s complex and varied. It reminds us of human song and often, human instruments such as flute or oboe. There’s something existential that we can relate to in how birds call out or call to each other, in a way, for example, we don’t feel comopared to the sounds of cicadas or mosquitos. That feels more environmental. We relate to birds. They fly. A million mirror neurons go off when we experience birds in a way they don’t with flies or lizards. Do we have hollow bones and feathers? Do we wish we had hollow bones and feathers? Birds are in our world and somehow exist in a parallel world. As if they exist in another coincident dimension (I mean other than the more 3-dimensional world they fly in.) They are part of our dream, myths, stories. I imagine the inside of my mouth is the shape of a songbird.

Here’s a video where I play alto recorder (modified by digital processing through Max/MSP) along with a recording of starlings.