The Panacousticon, by Caroline Wilkins (2016)

[I begin with a dialogue between the object-beings, the eavesdropper and the performers]:

Closet, Curtain, Table, Door, Costume: [husky, dry, whispering voices]
We remember, we contain the memory of all that has happened here; the fear, hatred, anxiety, excitement of you, Eavesdropper! You snatched your breath here, imbibing our closed space with your presence, leaving traces on our fabric; your sweat, heat and chill touched us, making us cling to your skin or shiver in empathy. The turmoil, trouble, conspiracy and seduction of your babbling words. Performers, invaded our space, soaked our fibres, entered our resonant bodies, vibrated in our still vacuum! Words spiked us, attacked and confounded the air around us. We were invaded by your hasty body, Eavesdropper and by the discoverer snatching into us in a moment of angry turbulence. Hamlet’s knife cutting, tearing through the material of our body as it reached you, Polonius!

Eavesdropper: [slightly muffled voices]
 You hid me, gave me a screen of protection. You let those deadly secrets I wanted to hear seep through your neutral object-body, your solid reassuring presence. But I was stifled by the lack of air, your dusty fabric concealing my body. Stale, chilly, damp, dank, musty closet! I breathed in the moist, woody smell of a table, or a door behind which I was leaning. I saw the dirt and dust beside me on the floor under the table, feeling like an animal waiting for scraps of knowledge. Costumes, you took on the role of your appearance with my help and let me hide inside your skin. I hoped your fine layers of fabric would keep me from discovery… I was hot, sweating feverishly under this disguise, this mask of pretence.

Performers: Eavesdropper, we can’t hear you properly! Speak up! We were not aware of you or the object-beings concealing you. Except, perhaps, on some occasions, for one of us…
— And then oh, how I feared your discovery, Polonius!
Oh, how I enjoyed provoking you, Orgon!
Both of us were split in two at that moment, hearing the ‘echo’ of our conversations as they sounded in your confined space; imagining the effect they would have.
Me, I was amongst the other performers in Much Ado, playing a double role. I kept my wits about me in this nerve-racking situation, praying that no spontaneous gesture or word on my part would give me away whilst I enjoyed the spoils of gossip and intrigue relayed by my unsuspecting companions.

[The focus shifts now to a different set of eavesdroppers and performers who are concerned with the ‘talking bust’]:

Talking Bust:  [resonant]
My mouth is an echo chamber of thoughts. They bounce off the inner walls of my hollow metal cavity. You think perhaps that they are coming from a divine presence, as if I represented a messenger, a medium of God, lined up with my companions along the wall of this museum entrance.
On the other hand my presence is ambiguous in that courtly setting. No one would suspect its double role. My ‘mouth’ and ‘ears’ are one long tunnel that bores through the cavities of this building in a spiral formation, and reaches the surface of a wall below. I have no control over what I ‘hear’ and ‘tell’ when you approach me, Eavesdropper. I involuntarily eavesdrop on you, Performers, in your courtyard, transmitting your voices through my empty vehicle to you, Eavesdropper.
You pass before me in the room upstairs, in the museum entrance, perhaps not knowing that I can ‘speak’…Listen! Come nearer!

Eavesdropper:  I’m interested in what you have to say, Talking Bust, conveying much-awaited and valuable secrets to me as I stand before you in anticipation. I know who you are, Performers! Rogues of conspiracy!
But walking through the museum entrance, on the other hand, I’m confounded as you spring into speech and dare not remain in front of you out of fear. You seem to watch me as I move along this corridor, waiting to judge my presence and sharing your thoughts with each successive statue, perhaps…

Performers: [much echo, as in large spacious hall]
We were caught in the act but not all of our conversations were ill-intended, Eavesdropper! We were powerless victims of you.
However the museum gave us another role. There we were anonymous voices and taken for omnipotent beings carrying messages from God. Only our inventor knew of us.

[The Talking Bust continues, entering into a dialogue with uncanny forms of Automata and Beings of the supernatural world such as the Ghost, the Ancient Gods and the Angel]:


Talking Bust: [resonant]
I am a construction of our Jesuit inventor, made for a divine purpose in his Museum. My mechanism is complex and based on a profound knowledge of acoustics, mathematics and optical illusion.

Automaton: [mechanical, rasping, creaking, metallic voice]
From his knowledge of natural magic my deeply religious master, Albertus Magnus, made me, a talking, moving automaton, and I remained faithful to my task.  Your maker, Talking Bust, drew inspiration from the knowledge of my construction many years before.
I was a predecessor to Magnus’ invention, a mythological creature that could also speak, and was given this power by the use of alchemy. We were creations of the Early Greek imagination, realised in material form. We were sometimes built to scare our enemies by our enormous size and quasi-human likeness.
As miniature figurines we defy death and show mortals the meaning of purgatory: an endless cycle of pain and torment which we, of course, do not feel, but which we oblige them to feel in our place. We defy time, always being caught in the vicious circle of the present. We were deliberately constructed by our clever inventors to strike fear into our feeble human audience.

Ghost:[deep, resonant voice, plaintive, tired, full of despair]
I am a restless spirit. Wrong has been done to me. I am plagued by memories of evil-doings that fell upon me, and find myself in the turmoil of purgatory. I was eavesdropping all along, listening to the twists and turns of lies and intrigue that ensued. I was forced to take on a visible form in order to speak to you, the Performers, in Gertrude’s closet. My voice rises from the despair of my unjust murder.
[windswept angel’s voice] I am aware of all that has gone before me in history, like you, Object-Beings, with your material memories, but am helpless to intervene, not possessing a mortal form.
[Gods, very resonant] We, as the ancient ’gods’, give signs to you Performers, you mere mortals caught in time and action. You, who believe in us and follow accordingly, fear any divine consequences of contradiction.


[The supernatural eavesdroppers enter into dialogue with others in mortal form]:

Eavesdroppers from the supernatural world: [resonant, authoritative]
We listen in from the vantage point of beyond, exerting our powers through apparitions and signs to indicate our judgement on what we have heard from you, Performers! Thus we have an advantage over you, mortal Eavesdroppers.

Eavesdropper onstage: [muffled voices]
I agree. This situation is unbearably claustrophobic, frightening and thrilling at the same time. I have potential power over you, Performers, manipulating your silly intrigues to my advantage. But oh, if discovered in the act I am demoralised, disgraced, set upon and killed! My power is no more!

Hidden Surveyor Spy: [echo of large room, authoritative voice]
Ha! My position is safe. I am alerted by my servants and accomplices from the court and thus informed as to the identity of these rogue Performers. But perhaps sometimes I’ll just lend an ear idly to their otherwise anonymous, unwitting conversations out of pure amusement and indulge my unique powers.

Eavesdropping public / audience: [whispered echo]
We wander through Kircher’s entrance passage to his Museum in awe, observed by these vacant but all-seeing metal heads, each resting on a podium, one after the other, in a row along the side of the corridor. They catch us with a word as we pass by, forcing us to stop in fear and surprise.
— We, the silent witnesses to events onstage, inwardly resound in response to the moods, discoveries, worries and amusing situations that befall you, Performers. Sometimes we can’t help but let out a sigh, a cry, a laugh, a muffled giggle, or a sharp breath of anticipation which you no doubt hear. Our feeling, our thinking, communicates itself through our eyes, ears and sometimes our voices, all of which you must be aware across this empty but heavily-laden space that separates us. Our privilege as passive eavesdroppers is tempered by an almost unbearable empathy or loathing towards you as we identify with one character or another, each caught up in a web of deeds and consequences.

[On this note we must let the Performers speak for themselves]s:

Onstage Performers: We are together at last, the two of us, confiding quietly and rapidly between us or disputing loudly the truth of what we know, or going through our private ritual as a group, expounding our secret knowledge and thoughts.
[quietly aside] However, one of us is also in a double role, knowing full well that there is a hidden Eavesdropper in our midst. We play on our seductive powers in full knowledge of the effect that this will have on you, Eavesdropper! We worry that the situation will get out of hand as tempers flare — that you will reveal your presence by a noise, a shout!

Onstage Performer-Eavesdroppers: Lucky for you! We have to play a double role as both and so are infinitely more vulnerable to exposure, only a veil of material hiding our real identity.

Performers as Public: Not aware of any such intrigue, except perhaps amongst ourselves, we talk incessantly in the noisy, vast hall of this building. Polite interjections rendered at full volume are deliberately interspersed, however, with lowered voices conveying important news, the latter thus being effectively disguised by a surrounding babble.

[What the audience would have to say to these victims of eavesdropping remains the last word]:

Surveyor Spy: Ha! Your lowered tones still reach me! My ears are used to such confusion. I am a single, secretive audience doubling as an Eavesdropper. My motives are to manipulate and control events through the verbal information you pass on to me.

Museum Audience:  [hushed voices] We are reverent to your utterances, O omnipotence, and listen attentively to your divine messages through these miraculous presences!

Theatre Audience: We remain passive in our reception of knowledge and information imparted to us. We read Plato and ‘hear’ his revelations of Socrates’ thoughts in our mind’s ear. We feel addressed as part of the chorus in Greek theatre. The playwrights have included us in their world, not addressing us by name but making the play’s reality come to life through our necessary presence as a ‘sounding-board’.

[At this point we, as supplementary audience caught in the cross-fire of labyrinthine dialogues, emerge with ringing ears from the dark space of the echo chambers.]

With W/Ringing Ears, working script, by Caroline Wilkins & Leona Jones (2020)

 

> Overture <

Drip drip drop drop

Eaves drip drip drip drop er eaves drop er eavesdropper eavesdropper eavesdropper eavesdropper eavesdropper eavesdropper eavesdropper Eavesdroppers eavesdroppers

 

> Claustrophobia <

remember         contain the memory    fear    hatred     anxiety     excitement     snatch breath     taste space     leave trace like sweat-heat chill-touch     cling to skin  shiver-in      drip-in     conspiracy     troubling - seduction     words    drop-in words      babbling space     soak fibres     vibrate vacuum     words      words  - spike    attack   confound     moments of deadly turbulence

 

> Fearfulness <

screens of protection      words    seep through      reassuring presence    damp breath in /              chilly         musty      breathe in       dank words on the floor     waiting    scraps of knowledge     moist    under the table       hide inside skin    fine             layers        keep mask of pretence

 

> Intrigue <

can’t hear       speak up      fear discovery      enjoy  provoking      split in two at that moment      hear echoes of conversations       sound-in confine-in space      nerve-racking double role     no spontaneous gesture no spoils of gossip         intrigue-in

         

> Vacuum <

mouth - an echo chamber of thoughts     ears - bounce off inner walls of involuntary presence       a messenger    a medium     lined up along a double role       one long tunnel         boring through cavities     spiralling to a wall

     

< Transmission > < Transmutation >

voices approach      listen    nearer   spring into speech     transmit    share thoughts     pass on each successive perhaps     pass on  caught in the act     anonymous voices     powerless victims     omnipotent beings        carrying messages - a construction    complex mechanisms of acoustics mathematics and optics -     illusions   -     natural magic    -      alchemy

 

< Automata >

creations of imagination     speak and give power               enormous creatures and miniature figurines     defy time     in endless circles of cycles of now   present     helpless to intervene restless spirits      plagued by apparitions

      

< Surveyors >

eavesdroppers     listening to twists and turns     lies and intrigues         speak     catch in time and action      listen        from the vantage point of beyond        lend an ear      idly      anonymously       claustrophobically     all-listening heads    one after another    one row     after another     row after row      capture - with a word

 

< Consequential > < Babelbabble >

let loose a sigh witnesses     resound in response           a cry     a laugh    a sharp breath of anticipation      feelings    thoughts    eyes ears and voices      heavily-laden spaces that separate       quietly and rapidly captured in webs of consequences      disputing truth loudly      secret knowledge      a double role      tempers flare     a noise a shout     a thin mask of doubled material        incessant talk       noisy      vast       interjections        at full volume       interspersed      a surrounding babble        lowered voices             lowered tones      confusion            secretive

 

< Coda >

audiences doubling as Eavesdroppers      controlling through utterances         parts in the chorus         listen-in attentively       thoughts in minds’ ears 

Contextualisation

‘In the fast-changing world of social media, it is imperative to have a text that changes with the times.’ (Mosco 2019)

With W/Ringing Ears emerges from The Panacousticon, a performative response in the form of a script by Caroline Wilkins (2016) to an essay by Freddie Rokem (2015) on eavesdropping in classical theatre. Rokem took as his point of departure eavesdropping scenes from plays, coupling them with philosophical discourse. This moment of convergence between philosophy and performance practice prompted Wilkins’s response with regard to an act that occupies an acoustic space, one that deliberately includes a figurative phrase within its title. A natural consequence of the script manifested itself during 2020 in the form of vocal recordings, which then led co-authors Wilkins and Jones to explore non-narrative ways of presenting the spoken word as an audio equivalent to digital literature. Thematically, this method of working rebounds on the subject matter itself, eavesdropping being a practice that deals with a chain of hearsay passed from one source to the next and modified each time, something that has now evolved into a highly sophisticated means of (mis-) information.

Digital literature is a relatively new medium, one in which literature is defined in the broadest way possible (Electronic Literature Organization 2021; see also Rowberry 2018, Rinehart 2006). The boundaries of its methodological approach are porous, overlapping with those of established literature, cinema, visual art, poetry, video games to mention but a few.  There’s no standard form, no current canon, no criteria apart from digital technology being used to both create, present and interact with the work.  All this is its strength and its difficulty.  Now seems a fine opportunity to embrace the experimental and develop an audio work that follows such principles.  Digital literature fragments words, hurls them around cyberspace as a succession of noughts and ones, undermines the expected (and fictional) linearity.  We wanted to treat spoken word in the same way and create a fluid audio montage in the head of the listener.  Navigation is open and performative; (w)reader becomes collaborator. Choosing a personal path via hyperlinks through the fragment headings offered mirrors the meandering effort needed during practice research enquiries.  We’re living in exciting/fearful times. Times to question ways of doing and being. Times to find different possibilities, try things out, discover what happens.

Parallel thematic and formal references have also occurred in recent years. In 2008 an ongoing investigation into contemporary forms of eavesdropping was held at the Ian Potter Museum of Art, Australia (2018). It took the same historical starting point as Wilkins’s original representation, namely an acoustic surveillance system invented by Athanasius Kircher in the 1600s, the purpose of which was to ‘spy’ on conversations and verbal intrigues taking place within the public space of the court.  Placed in a contemporary context of audio surveillance by means of digital devices, the concerns of curators Joel Stern and James Parker reflect on the politico-legal problems of such a widely-practiced action that has continued well into our century. Historically speaking it became a minor public order offence in Great Britain during the 1700s. 

A further reference for this work emerges in the form of a arts-based practice initiated by Rebecca Collins and Joanna Linsley entitled Stolen Voices (Collins and Linsley 2019a, 2019b). The project asks a fundamental question, one that also reflects Wilkins and Jones’ starting point: ‘What is the relationship between a listener and what is heard?’ Whilst Collins and Linsley's Stolen Voices explores an expanded eavesdropping practice to investigate a fictional unknown event, our questions form the basis of an abstract soundscape, one that examines the lazy binary of active speaking and passive listening.

Listening is now regarded as an art form in itself, a burgeoning field within and beyond sound art, with practitioners such as Pauline Oliveros, Hildegaard Westerkamp, Lawrence Abu Hamdan and the collaborative group Ultra-red, and researchers such as Angus Carlyle, Pia Palme and Salome Voegelin exemplifying the diversity within this expanding field.  Listening itself is being understood as a holistic act, a back and forth between listeners, rebounding in the wider sociopolitical context.

The global reactions to the Covid-19 pandemic involved a rush on-line, substituting so much previously gained from live gatherings and personal experience.  The pressure has been on to virtually listen to and watch each other even more than previously, foregrounding surveillance, the corporate, divisions and connections. 

How can an individual ‘wring out’ their ears in order to avoid being rendered inert by overload?

 

In With W/Ringing Ears two voices (uttering speech and using extended vocal technique) are heard intermediating between a received world of mechanical sonic reproduction and that of personal utterances based on direct experience. (The work intends framing our twenty-first century Info-storm as worldwide mass overt and covert ‘eavesdroppings’—defined as acts that occupy an acoustic space of sorts.) These soundscapes are sculpted from a collaborative text in which language and form take different shapes.  Acts of thinking out loud take place, entering into direct confrontation with what is simultaneously being heard and said. This un/manipulated material is mixed to create colour and texture, sense and non-sense.  Voices rebound around a labyrinth of sound, creating a complex series of abstract patterns that goes beyond syntactical meaning and enters into a compressed space of vertical time.

Shifting back and forth between the tragic-comic aspects of eavesdropping, With W/Ringing Ears brings fictive protagonists together as characters that rebound from each others’ dramaturgical positions. Caught in this multitude of dialogues that fire back and forth, a potential live audience becomes witness—as an additional eavesdropper—to the various scenarios, creating a version of events that depends both on location and people’s own personal experience.

 

 

Works Cited

Collins, Rebecca, and Johanna Linsley. 2019a. “Stolen Voices Is a Slowly Unfolding Eavesdrop on the East Coast of the UK.” Arts 8 (4): 140. https://doi.org/10.3390/arts8040140

———. 2019b. ‘Stolen Voices.’ ASAP Journal, October 3. Accessed 1 December 2021. https://asapjournal.com/stolen-voices-rebecca-collins-and-johanna-linsley/

Electronic Literature Organization. 2021. “Our Role.” Accessed 1 June 2022. https://eliterature.org/what-is-e-lit/

Ian Potter Museum of Art. 2018. EAVESDROPPING, curated by James Parker and Joel Stern.  Melbourne: Ian Potter Museum of Art. https://eavesdropping.exposed/

Mosco, Vincent. 2019. The Smart City in a Digital World. UK: Emerald Publishing.

Rinehart, Richard. 2006. “A System of Formal Notation for the Scoring of Digital and Variable Media Art.” https://archive.bampfa.berkeley.edu/about/formalnotation.pdf

Rowberry, Simon Peter. 2018. “Continuous, not discrete: The mutual influence of digital and physical literature.” Convergence 26 (2): 319-332. https://doi.org/10.1177/1354856518755049  

Rokem, Freddie. 2015. “The Processes of Eavesdropping: Where Tragedy, Comedy and Philosophy Converge.” Performance Philosophy 1: 109–18. https://doi.org/10.21476/PP.2015.1120  

Wilkins, Caroline. 2016. “The Panacousticon: By Way of Echo to Freddie Rokem.” Performance Philosophy 2 (1): 5–22. https://doi.org/10.21476/PP.2016.2179  

Abstract

This work emerges from The Panacousticon, a performative response in the form of a script by Caroline Wilkins (2016, 109-118) to an original essay by Freddie Rokem on eavesdropping in classical theatre (2015). As a sequel it has developed into a co-authored digital work in collaboration with multi-media artist Leona Jones.

With W/Ringing Ears draws a link between the Panacousticon, a listening device invented in the 1600s by philosopher Athanasius Kircher, and both analogue and digital tools of surveillance emerging over the last two centuries, presented in the form of images of eavesdropping. It comprises a re-worked audio script based on the original and excerpts from sound recordings made from this new material. Emerging from the images is a contextual provocation on hearsay and virtual (mis-)information assailing our ears at this time of pandemic crisis, as well as the re-appearance of the original play script by Wilkins.

The oral event of philosophising rebounds from the aural one. The acts of speaking and listening lead to the act of philosophising. Thus an initial experience of immediacy develops into a joint audio-phonic work, an acoustic act, a live encounter between performance and philosophy.

Biographies

Leona Jones
An inter-disciplinary practitioner centred on Word/Sound as event/performance, Leona uses spatiality, audio and field recordings as well as text as she seeks to highlight physicality, location and context, considering them crucial to inter-relationships between maker/word/world. Her commitment to inclusivity, collaboration, research and intuition means she questions definitions, unnoticed boundaries and assumptions. Leona gained a Masters in Performance Writing from Dartington/Falmouth University, and her work has been supported by Arts Councils UK as well as individual organisations and galleries. Soundcloud.

Caroline Wilkins
Independent Composer/Performer/Researcher Dr. Caroline Wilkins completed a practice-based PhD in Sound Theatre at Brunel University in 2012. She has presented at international conferences including ARTECH (Guimares), IFTR Congress (Munich), Sibelius Academy (Helsinki) and Caen University (Normandy). Publications online and in journals include Perspectives of New Music (2013), Studies in Musical Theatre / International Journal of the Performing Arts & Digital Media / Journal of Interdisciplinary Vocal Studies (2012–18) with Intellect Books, and Performance Philosophy 2 (1) (2016). She presented at the Performance Philosophy Biennial Conference 2019, Amsterdam, in conjunction with artist Leona Jones.

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Collins, Rebecca, and Johanna Linsley. 2019. “Stolen Voices Is a Slowly Unfolding Eavesdrop on the East Coast of the UK.” Arts 8 (4): 140. https://doi.org/10.3390/arts8040140

———. ‘Stolen Voices’, ASAP Journal, October 3. Accessed 1 December 2021. https://asapjournal.com/stolen-voices-rebecca-collins-and-johanna-linsley/

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Images used from free stock image sites https://www.pexels.com, https://unsplash.com/images/stock/royalty-free, https://pixabay.com/, and by Leona Jones