Northwords Now

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Extract from Birds/Humans/Machines/Dolphins

by Genevieve Carver

METHOD STATEMENT

Objectives

Make meaning of blubber and bone.

Render each creature more itself than it knows how. Give purpose to porpoise, definition to dolphin.

Survey Design

Be go-between, medium, shapeshifter. Play fast and loose with the data. A translator with an agenda is an explosive thing.

Sampling Locations

Moray West – out past the gas graveyards, the oil-rig mausoleums.  Out to where the gales are caught in wide white arms and thrown down ducts with electric gusto.

Moray East, where the monopods line up like ancient stone rows, the nacelles tremble with progress.

Beatrice, who dreams in watts and shakes the sandbank in her sleep.

Sampling Periods

Every time someone says ‘slack tide’

When the cloud lifts, the unforgiving grey allows

When terns wear the Westerlies like Flamenco dresses

When flukes smack the ocean’s skin like revellers collapsing on the dancefloor

In between coffee breaks

Methods         

Sea swimming

Tongue clicking

Self-aware anthropomorphism

Notebooks with marine-themed covers

Blue ink

Hydrophone

I hear what you don’t – minke whale fog-horn – hammer of haddock’s swim bladder – alto dolphin –

and what you can’t – dog-whistle sonar - soprano dolphin – higher than Minnie Riperton – than tinnitus / puppy yelp / baby wail –

I lock the notes inside me – like childhood – pass them on – like lullabies – melody flowing through umbilical cable –

Spectrogram

/ a picture of sound /

/ a rainbow of music /

/ a ribbon of echoes /

/ dolphin whistles are blue mountains /

/ over bedrock of boat noise /

/ meadow of swell-grind /

/ pixels of frequencies /

/ noisy as oil paint /

/ Kandinsky’s dream /

/ a dance about architecture /

/ a technicolour melody /

/ harmonic reflections /

/ shimmering on the sonic lake /

~ echolocation click ~

this is the sound

of listening

the language of call

and response

rippling through

whole body

leaving like a streamer

           

returning like trumpets

from the gallery

in the knave

musical map vibrating

in guitar-belly head

softened by pillows

of held breath

ocean as orchestral score

                                    seaweed as tangle

           

of earworms squirming

questioning

probing

                                    searching

the song in the mirror

 

fathoming

                       

foraging

the voice in the cave

~ buzz ~

those quickening clicks

rhythmic as drumrolls

are in fact blood-howls

zeroing in on a target

charging like a pack

of sea-hounds coursing

sometimes its food –

lithe muscle of salmon caught

by timpani crash of clicks

sometimes it’s a plaything –

a porpoise to bludgeon

to stone-cold blubber

or one of our own –

a podless calf to harry to shreds

of skin and broken bone

you’ve read the smile all wrong

the bully-smirk of apex boss

ambassadors of ASBO Britain

the poster of us leaping

with the motivational quote

should read

Live

Laugh

Fuck Shit Up

~ whistle ~

            hello

or         I miss you

or         go left

or         I’m here

or         I’m myself, my own dolphin and no other

or         I’m tired

or         go away

or         let’s play

or         dare you to rub your belly on the beach

or         do you ever feel like an empty razor clam?

or         good one

or         nice flippers

or         do you ever dream of swimming in air?

or         do you surface gasping, rock-scars searing your flanks?

or         I like you

or         here come the shore-walkers, finless and stiff

or         the cloud-beasts grazing the hill, so graceful when they leap!

or         eat my slipstream

or         my blowhole’s clogged with storm scud

or         salmon steak!

or         mine!

or         it’s like the legends say, above the surface only silence

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