The Shape of Your Hands скачать в хорошем качестве

The Shape of Your Hands

The Shape of Your Hands by Adam Horovitz Clay at the river’s edge, toad-mottled by leaf light as it glances from water. It sings from the reed banks; climb down to it, hand over hand. Scoop up a ragged ball to turn and mold, then press your thumbs in deep. Pinch at the slippery mass until lump gives way to vessel. A shape that fits the contour of your hands as they are cupped to drink. Pinch on until walls thin to the point where heat will transfer without scalding, hold broth but not break. Shaping’s such a human instinct. ** You are with your ancestors now in the slippage point between times, doing what they did, learning as you go. Difference slips away like water. This clay is as much the clay they pulled from river banks as any clay. It sits brown and heavy in your hand as it ever sat in theirs. A weight like hope. The river runs god-like as all thought through the possibilities of making. Find a fire for your pot and bake it. Pray that, in six thousand years, someone will be astonished by your fingerprints. By the steadfast shape of your hands. Clay Music (excerpts) by Chris Cundy Clay and pottery artefacts permeate the Stone Age to Corinium gallery. We see a myriad of fragments, broken sherds and outlines recurring throughout the Museum’s prehistory collection. Carinated edges from the early Neolithic give us tantalising clues about the objects they formed and the houses they once belonged to. We see pieces of cooking pots and other domestic ware made by people who were changing the landscape and who had cultivated an enormous knowledge about their local fauna and flora. Adam’s poem is a meditation on the timeless craft of ceramics. I have created music for the accompanying film using five clay ocarinas or vessel flutes, all of different shapes and sizes, ranging from bass up to sopranino. I’ve collected these little clay instruments over many years and I love them. Each one is shaped with a pip-like mouthpiece just like a baroque recorder only smaller and they have six or seven finger holes. They’re often totemic in appearance and some of them are made to look like birds. I have one that’s in the shape of a poisonous rainforest frog. The sound of the ocarina is completely elemental and you can hold the instruments easily in the palm of your hand. The music also features field recordings made at Winchcombe, a working studio Pottery right on the edge of the Cotswolds surrounded by woodland and ancient apple orchards. You’ll hear the sound of electric pottery wheels whirring away in the throwing rooms and the shaping of bowls as they are tapped steadily for their exact thickness and width. © 2022 Adam Horovitz & Chris Cundy Archaeology of the Ear; a series of poems and soundscapes exploring historic places and Corinium Museum artefacts that have sonorous and musical stories to tell supported by Help Musicians & Arts Council England