Having been peripherally aware of the book (it was one of those on my ‘I need to read that at some point’ list, but not one I had yet managed to make time for), the invitation to write a review was an opportune one. First, it would give me the impetus to actually read the text, and second it presented a further opportunity: to engage some of my postgraduate students in critical review. I am fortunate enough to convene an MSc degree in Sound Design and Audiovisual Practices at the University of Glasgow that draws a very diverse, open-minded and critically engaged cohort of students. The 2019/20 cohort of students had to contend with not only lengthy strike action but also the COVID-19 pandemic, and they have managed to do so with grace and skill, embracing online engagement effectively and naturally through a range of additional activities outside of what we would normally do in class. This review offered the opportunity to work collaboratively on approaching a text from the diverse perspectives not only as lecturer and postgraduate student but also as artists and practitioners at various stages of our careers. Consequently, this review is a reflection of the perspectives of four of these students, with much of the discussion coming directly from them, alongside my own responses to the text.
The rationale for approaching the review in this way was twofold. First, it was an important and rare pedagogic opportunity, affording Master’s students the opportunity to develop a professional critical voice and to view that voice as valid. Second, as both an artist and an academic, it is important to me not only that this review be approached from my own personal perspective – how it might impact on both my creative and my teaching practice – but also that the review consider its relevance, legibility and value to the kind of student cohort who are most likely to encounter it.
Continuing from this notion of relevance and legibility, I will begin this discussion by stating that this is book that knows exactly what it is and what it is doing. The authors set out their store in clear terms, from the outset of the preface to the coda on otoacoustic emissions, and what might seem like a relatively opaque and idiosyncratic topic area from the title of the volume is effectively disambiguated as the text progresses – I might add, very eloquently. Chapter one, ‘Phantasmagenics’, begins this disambiguation through setting out the conceptual, philosophical and perceptual basis against which the book and its subject matter unfolds, through clarifying how perception in this context is understood by the authors and how this is applied to the works and concepts explored. Unlike much of the rest of the volume, this chapter deals not specifically with the compositional works or processes of the authors, but with laying the groundwork for the text and holding up conceptual and contextual lenses through which the remainder of the discussion can be viewed.
Reviewer: Kenneth Clark
Chapter 2, ‘Inducing the Phantasmatic’, contains many thought-provoking concepts which give the reader cause for reflection on potential strategies to be adopted in one’s own compositions. Notable for me are: ‘Information … exists mainly in the regions of change – i.e. edges’ (p. 69), and ‘the brain is a prediction or inference engine … interesting in the sense that such a lack of inherent meaning would make pareidolic activity almost unavoidable in listeners who would otherwise subside (sic) on a diet of more clearly structured music’ (p. 77). These are but two of a comprehensive range of observations in Barbara Ellison’s analysis of ‘sonic phantom’ inference which I feel can be applied more broadly to maintain listener interest.
The text is crammed with references to works where the techniques being discussed may be observed. However, the sheer number of examples to which the reader is pointed, some of which demonstrate the techniques more successfully than others, would provide a major challenge for any reader to pursue without disrupting the flow of the argument. Many are also challenging for the reader to locate; for example, from traditional African and East European cultures. It is a pity, given the observations by the group’s leader on the duration/density of events (p. 59), that it is difficult to appreciate the Waco Girls’ performance of Satie’s Vexations. However, the majority of the references succeed in bringing alive the techniques discussed, especially the work of Croiners and [The User] in the section on ‘looped music’ based on non-musical sounds; Ashley’s composition Wolfman in the section on noise and Niblock’s Harm illustrating his ‘drone aesthetic’ (p. 56) in the discussion on persistence. Many references may be unfamiliar – for example, Diana Deutsch’s Scale Illusion, the work of Brian Gysin and Henri Chopin – and it was refreshing to see genres covered such as Metal, Drone and Krautrock; an indication of the comprehensive nature of the research.
The length of the discussion on one particular technique, hocketing, is overlong. I feel it would have been helpful to include a reference to successful examples of the technique such as Michael Gordon’s Timbre earlier in this section. Indeed, by the end I felt that I was beginning to understand why musicologist William Dalglish might well struggle in defending the technique against claims of being ‘a technique of purely subordinate import’ (p. 70). I also found the section on Accentuation to be shorter and weaker than the others, particularly given how the techniques described can be so subtle yet so effective – it is certainly a fundamental process yetalmost seems added as an afterthought.
I felt that there were potentially excessive attempts to elevate the phrase ‘sonic phantoms’ as frequently as possible during the chapter, perhaps unnecessarily given the title and focus of the volume. As a consequence, the text can come across as a little forced and stilted, for example ‘uncertainties, illusions and hence sonic phantoms’ (p. 55) and ‘ideal ground for sonic phantoms to arise’ (p. 65). It may be solely a question of stylistic preference, but I found the frequent references throughout to Ellison’s own work, global research practice and implementation of each of technique to be a little distracting (e.g., pp. 64–65, 68, 75, 80) particularly as section 2.2 ‘Realms of Sonic Phantasmatic Experience’ and the following chapters are dedicated to her own implementation.
Reviewer: Olivier Julien
Chapter 3, ‘Phantasia Instrumentalis: The Realm of the Instrument’, commences by describing in detail Ellison’s processes and the material, structural and situational preparations that ring true to her influences in creating Harp Phantoms; from the Fluxus artists of the 60’s through to the contemporary work of Zeena Parkin in New York’s downtown scene. Ellison’s engagement with Cagean preparations liquifies any preconceived notions of what I imagined the Harp capable and coupled with the text the audio fragments on her website can be wonderfully tactile and unrestrained. These sonic segments are penetrative and invasive in the best way, and the resulting ‘aural images’ feel like they have escaped and cut ties with their source.
Though Ellison’s repetitions and rituals use modularity to effect structure, the text unfolds in a linearity that invites; I find Ellison to be at her most exciting when in the midst of conceptual speculation through the Dissanayake’s ‘artification of objects’ using these ritual tools ‘to increase the possibility of unanticipated and personally revelatory results’ while continuing her counter cultural lines of love for the aleatoric ‘it is precisely the impossibility of complete accuracy, that often makes for very interesting results’.
The writing and subject matter galvanise through wonderful examples of Ugandan and Inuit Katajjaq music, with subsequent chapters working to vehicle phenomenological concepts such as segregation theory, Gestalt theory and audio streaming concepts that ultimately serve to parallel and flesh out her harp’s sonic bones. Although certainly displaying the potential pedagogic breadth at hand I’m left feeling certain sections, on occasion, could benefit from being more concise to fuel curiosity; a somewhat pervasive reinstatement of processes and their relevance to the conceptual ties slow the text.
Unusual Ellison’s work may not be, but of great contemporary interest, certainly. Captivating academic work exists, for me, in a necessary temporal junction where the past persists in its influence. With this in mind I think of Duchamp, stating that in a hundred years the artist would be reduced to someone who just points and tells us what to look at. If this is the case, then where is Ellison pointing? Through our techno-induced inertia, the occident seems to have an insatiable contemporary appetite for myth, magic and ritual. Upon first hearing the title Sonic Phantoms the same intrigue was invoked now as first coursed through me when previously reading K. Punk’s London After the Rave or first engaging with Gavin Harrison’s Rhythmic Illusions series as a teenager; however, ten years has passed since I first encountered ghosts, illusion and science as séance, and this has subsequently left me wanting more. What are the political ramifications and potencies of leaving the perceptual plain and transcending out? And why, most importantly, does it continue to rear its head above the parapet? Through our use of ‘field’ study, global cultures have shown how sonic illusions and phantoms can function as central to a multiplicity of cultural uses around the world, from healing to religious ceremonies, invocation of the spirits, competition, mimicry of nature and access to liminal and heightened states. Perhaps it is our turn to take note.
Reviewer: Lewis Collie
In chapter 4, ‘Phantasma Materialis: The Realm of the Object’, Ellison focuses on the development of her Drawing Phantoms series and contextualises her work in a comprehensive cross-disciplinary discussion of topics concerning apophenia, automatism, ritualism and trance induction; examining the cultural understandings of these practices and phenomena within the arts, the occult and modern psychology. The subjective nature of these phenomena, and their manifestation at an experiential level of understanding which operates independently from the linguistic, creates a risk that discussion surrounding them may become confusingly abstract; Ellison’s account is excellent in its clarity and ability to articulate their broad importance beyond her own work.
Ellison assimilates many sources in her history of trance and apophenia; without constructing a tedious list it is difficult to overstate the breadth of unique perspectives woven together from different cultures, artistic practices and theorists. As a result, her writing crafts a sense of the great cultural significance that these phenomena have held pervasively throughout human history. Despite making clear that in her own work it is ritual, the occult and spiritualism that is of most interest, her discussion is unbiased towards this end and provides compelling reasons for those of other inclinations to explore the subjects at hand. Though the contextual discussion feels largely like a historic overview, any lack of depth in the account of one practice or associated belief is made up for by the vast wealth of written resources and example media for further exploration.
Following the genesis and metamorphosis of Drawing Phantoms is incredibly instructive and encouraging. In employing widely available materials and working with unpractised performers, Ellison demonstrates the accessibility of her practices and these compelling phenomena to all. The emphasis placed on the commonplace nature of trance states in daily life, discussed as perceptual narrowing as a route to dissociation, presents an invitation to the reader to practically explore trance and rebukes any notion that trance states are of an exclusive kind unattainable by those disconnected from the religious or cultural practices they are often associated with.
Reading this chapter was a great pleasure, the contextual discussion was broad yet consistently congruent with Ellison’s developing artistic interests. As a reader with a degree of familiarity with the topics at hand, I felt left with many exciting threads to follow up on.
Reviewer: Elizabeth Horseman
Chapter 5, ‘Phantasma Humana: The Realm of the Voice’, functions as a first-person exploration of Ellison’s compositional approaches to the human voice. Through consideration of a series of works developed under the collective title of Vocal Phantoms, Ellison investigates various musical encounters and points of sonic interest which led her to create the works in Vocal Phantoms before turning focus to the compositions themselves.
Throughout the chapter Ellison navigates a cross-referential network of anthropological, ethnomusicological and musicological considerations. Opening with an account of Ellison’s visit to the Iqaluit community on Baffin island, the chapter explores cultural and performative implications of local Inuit throat singing technique Katajjaq, drawing reference to a diverse collection of related musical forms and practices. Touching on the significance of ‘audial and visual feedback’ in creating various auditory illusions, with allusions to Chion, Deutsche and the McGurk effect, the chapter uses its case studies to support an investigation of vocal ambiguity. The result is a refreshingly decolonised study of compositional techniques that utilise forms of hocketing and short repeated motifs to generate sonic phantoms in the listener’s perception.
From the perspective of a postgraduate student in the field of sound art, the chapter is something of a holy grail: an engagingly written text, full of myriad starting points for individual inquiry into composition and sound theory, along with examples of concrete methodology that may function as inspiration for personal compositional exercises. The writing itself is accessible and the structure of the text is well considered, although the curious reader may find themselves frequently stopping to look up artists or studies referenced in the work – of which there are many. The accompanying sonic excerpts on Ellison’s website also help to inform the reader’s understanding of ‘vocal phantoms’ described, whilst somewhat addressing the ever-present issue of writing on the subject of sound for a reader who has not heard the sounds in question.
Any readers who might hope from the chapter’s title for a more comprehensive exploration of vocal composition or ‘vocal phantoms’ may be disappointed; the section keeps its focus specifically on the realm of sounds related to Katajjaq, along with associated themes of fragmentation, semantic satiation and the illusory sounds achieved through these ends. However, this focus allows for a more linear train of inquiry to emerge in Ellison’s consideration of her own work, serving as an interesting autoethnographic study of Ellison’s compositional experience. Ellison illustrates thoughtful creative practice through incorporating listening theory into approach and methodology, and has produced a valuably multifaceted text for any student looking to expand their knowledge of sound theory, musical practice, and compositional approaches.
Reviewer: Louise Harris
In chapter six, ‘Phantasma Naturalis: The Realm of Nature’, Ellison dissects the compositional series Natural Phantoms, relating the processes therein to listening and recording experiences in nature and notions of natural polyphony through layering, interlocking and transitions of materials. As with the previous chapters of the book, the examples given provide a concrete exemplification of the concepts explored through the chapter, though unlike other chapters I found the engagement with specific works here a little cursory and tangential, and would have welcomed more detailed discussion of the processes involved in these compositions.
The final coda, on otoacoustic emissions, provides a brief snapshot into artists and practices that have made use of these specific kinds of sonic phantoms, and provides a relatively comprehensive overview of the usual suspects in this field from Amacher to Kirkegaard while pointing to key textual and contextual references. While undoubtedly an interesting addition to the main body of the text, I had hoped that the coda might serve to bring together and reflect on the ideas explored in the volume as a whole and indeed this feels somewhat lacking here; for a text that is so clearly structured and whose argument unfolds progressively throughout, some amount of reflection on that journey and its ultimate destination would be very welcome.
Nonetheless, this is a text that will, I believe, prove to be of ongoing value to those interested in the sonic practices it explores and the ideas it develops. As a pedagogical resource, particularly for those of us engaged in practice-based, research-led teaching, it is very rich, providing a model of effectively exploring creative practice through rigorous, detailed, critical enquiry that is relatively rare to encounter. Indeed, as can be seen from the preceding discussion, and from how positively my current MSc cohort are responding to the text, it is one whose approach has broad resonance and application both within and outside of its specific disciplinary area.
With regards to how the book might engage readers of this journal, although orientated around a specific practice and some of the central conceptual, and technical/practical, concerns therein, there is much here that should be of interest to those engaged in the broader field of sound-based music and composition. The initial chapter, in which the authors most clearly set out the theoretical and conceptual basis for the work, will be of most immediate interest to those seeking to relate the volume to the musicology of sound-based music more broadly, but the chapters as a whole, and the topics they explore, have much to contribute to an ongoing dialogue on practice-based research in composition with recorded sound.
