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sound of circles
Produced by musician Liz Knowles, the sound of circles is a podcast series of “circular” reflections, gestures, sounds, and landscapes explored through the migration dance film project. These sonic maps spiral up through music, movement and filmmaking — weaving together Liz’s reflections on the films and her conversations with choreographer Sandy Silva and director Marlene Millar. In each episode, we present these resonances of circular motion — a journey of emergence.
music/sound design — excerpts of fiddle sounds, fiddle music and ambient sounds by Liz Knowles.
migration dance films — audio excerpts provided with permission by Migration Dance Film Productions.
audio post-production — Les Studios Bakery
1 – sound of circles
Musician Liz Knowles introduces sound of circles, a nine part cycle of reflections on the migration dance films.2 – container for curiosity
Art can be a container for our curiosity. Liz discusses those creative vessels with the migration dance film creators, Sandy Silva and Marlene Millar.read
poems
of navigation
of navigation
Together, hush standing, seaward facing with palms inward yet expectant, they are the paths to the corrosion, cleaves that each rhythm maker has come to heal in an act of unity.
Dance the union of the winds.
The spray has soft hooks: the ocean - the muscles an element of deep dark and cliffs mocking the innocents light.
Nothing of rock determines ways, only the roof of clouds dreamt in the run can choke the reality of their journey.
Dance the touch of water.
In the gloom the chaos unravels, and the dark speaks: Listen to the dark
the voices of ancestors whisper up
The weaves of crevice are mouths to pasts, the arteries to our tomorrows. Dance the union of ancestor to the unborn.
Is the horizon waiting? We will know soon enough.
Dance the distance – close the mystery. Jim Mackintosh
pilgrimage
pilgrimage
In movement, in genuflection of curved air they remember the bodies of children, closed eyes lit by notes of lost song
curved silent reflection curve again -
into vaulted space, shadows dance across trappings of failed religions, question bleached impressions of icons - remnants of a first forgiveness, a last confession, the second and last coming defined in
turned tone genuflection turn again -
into the morning where ash road patterns pass windmills brooding, like vacant crosses on the Appian Way but they dance forward through a sea of corn, centurion stalk-spears threatening, questioning
where do you take your rhythms? which of you is the leader? what truths do you hope to find?
The sun with all its power to gift life, deny days or quicken death, blesses motion repeated by the dancers, arouses the grain husk wind to lift dust to camouflage their hearts.
Keepers of movement - be our futures, remember us, embrace our past of
danced rhythmic inquisition dance again -
at the rise of the moon to guide feet on journeys deemed impossible in sun’s glare where rhythm must be light for footsteps, in darkness to outline gestures, the fusion of phosphorous and vaulted moon.
Dancers understand steps they choose, know where paths will take them, to where journeys demand breath, poise,
& silent space at its solemn velvet edge, to where feet stop memories dissolving one by one, eyes open, finding lost song, turning our pasts, one by one
turn again dancers & return to the path
for in tomorrow’s trinity, silent reflection, tone genuflection, rhythmic inquisition will return in movement again Jim Mackintosh