Name: Craig Shepard
Nationality: American
Occupation: Composer, trombonist, sound artist
Recent release: Craig Shepard's new album On Foot: Aubervilliers, a set of 3 CDs of Parisian field recordings, is out october 11th via On Foot.
Recommendations: Pauline Oliveros' Software for People is a great place to begin. Paul Maudale When Listening Comes Alive, https://www.ubuweb.com/

If you enjoyed this Craig Shepard interview and would like to stay up to date with his music, visit his page on the Wandelweiser website. More information can also be found onthe On Foot homepage.
 


When I listen to music, I see shapes, objects and colours. What happens in your body when you're listening? Do you listen with your eyes open or closed?

Through various mind-body practices, I've learned to tune into physical sensations. When I listen to music, the sound vibrates different parts of my body: sometimes the head, the sternum, the solar plexus, and the shoulders. Some of these are in turn connected to what many people call emotions.

When I composed the piano drone pieces “December,” and “Thomas,” I sat at the piano, played some chords, and tuned in to my body—I could literally feel when it was right.

How do listening with headphones and listening through a stereo system change your experience of sound and music?

I listen primarily while driving or when lying down with my head between the speakers. There's some music I can't listen to on headphones, and others which I find thrilling.

There are some singer-songwriters who almost whisper into the microphone and it sounds like they are singing in my skull.

Tell me about some of the albums or artists that you love specifically for their sound, please.

Recently, Robert Fripp's “Pie Jesu,“ (Metropol Orkest) and Mozart's collected sacred works conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt.



Fripp's soundscapes have a way of being both sound, melody, and a kind of sea-rhythm at the same time. With the Harnoncourt set, performed on period instruments, the works blossom. The parts are so clear and the whole balanced and gorgeous.

Do you experience strong emotional responses towards certain sounds? If so, what kind of sounds are these and do you have an explanation about the reasons for these responses?

When I did a blindfolded soundwalk, I kept turning towards the sound of children playing. It turns out many people turn to the sound of children playing.

There can be sounds which feel highly irritating to us and then there are others we could gladly listen to for hours. Do you have examples for either one or both of these?

I wince at the sound of the screech of subway cars going around a corner.

I've always loved the sound of snowflakes coming to rest on the ground, especially at night.

Are there everyday places, spaces, or devices which intrigue you by the way they sound? Which are these?

The sound of refrigerators has always comforted me.

There are moments in the evenings after the work of the day is complete and the world quiets down. When the fridge comes on, I have a real sense of home.

Have you ever been in spaces with extreme sonic characteristics, such as anechoic chambers or caves? What was the experience like?

I visited a deep underground bunker in the Jura Mountains in Switzerland. There were hundreds of yards of concrete tunnels 6' tall x 6' wide, and whispers echoed and echoed along the concrete.

Despite being entirely cut off from the world without any windows, I felt completely exposed.

What are among your favorite spaces to record and play your music?

I love performing outdoors. I can always hear, however faintly, automobile traffic somewhere in the distance. The fundamental pitch slides between low Ab and Bb – close to the fundamental pitch of Bb brass instruments. As a brass player, there is a connection with the landscape through these pitches.

This became an essential part of “Trumpet City,” where 40 or more trumpets perform outdoors.



Do music and sound feel “material” to you? Does working with sound feel like you're sculpting or shaping something?

In On Foot: Aubervilliers, I made 24 field recordings. As I listened to them afterwards, it seemed there was a complete soundscape within each one.

Without editing, I removed those parts of the field recording which were not the soundscape, revealing a composition. It was something like wood-carving.

How important is sound for our overall well-being and in how far do you feel the "acoustic health" of a society or environment is reflective of its overall health?

Since I moved from Brooklyn, New York to the wooded hills of Western Massachusetts, I spend time every day sitting outside and listening. I've found a deep relaxation and a sense of peace I never found in the city.

Sound, song, and rhythm are all around us, from animal noises to the waves of the ocean. What, if any, are some of the most moving experiences you've had with these non-human-made sounds?

Two recent experiences from my home:

One evening, I was awoken in the middle of the night by a loud rustling and grunting right outside my window. It was too big to be a bobcat or a coyote. I then heard a second pair of grunts. I found myself peering into the darkness, fully alert, quivering. I had never been that close to black bears before!

I sat on the porch, and watched the total eclipse. It was cloudy, so I didn't see the full eclipse. But a half around around the full darkness, all the birds and animals stopped. Nothing moved. Complete natural stillness.

Many animals communicate through sound. Based either on experience or intuition, do you feel as though interspecies communication is possible and important? Is there a creative element to it, would you say?

Absolutely! On Laurel Island in Connecticut, the owner's have a dog named Blu. When I play the trumpet, especially glissandos between concert B and concert Ab, Blu sings with me. We howl together a duet of sliding tones. A great deal of fun.

Tinnitus and developing hyperacusis are very real risks for anyone working with sound. Do you take precautions in this regard and if you're suffering from these or similar issues – how do you cope with them?

Earplugs are a must for me when going to loud concerts, traveling on the subway, and playing in loud bands.

We can surround us with sound every second of the day. The great pianist Glenn Gould even considered this the ultimate delight. How do you see that yourself and what importance does silence hold?

I've encountered two flavors of stillness: together with others, and alone. When being with others without speaking with the mouth, the eyes, or the hands, sometimes, a presence enters in, a stillness.

Alone, this stillness is more elusive, and is much more related to how I direct my attention. I can check out with thinking, worries, plans, and chores. When I am able to stop, and open my senses to everything that is around me, I have a chance of entering this stillness. Listening is a great way to do it.

I often use Pauline Oliveros' exercise of listening to the farthest sound I can hear, then to one near, and then direct my attention to all the sounds as a field.

Seth S. Horowitz called hearing the “universal sense” and emphasised that it was more precise and faster than any of our other senses, including vision. How would our world be different if we paid less attention to looks and listened more instead?

We would certainly have better sounding pop stars!

I think there would also be better relationships – when we really stop and listen to each other, we pick up a lot of information beyond the meaning of the words.