Donghoon Gang, a Frankfurt-based South Korean artist and composer, has released a new album titled 4.6m/s. This album is inspired by Yeondeunggut–an annual ritual summoned to the God of wind that takes place in early February in Gangʼs hometown, Jeju Island, in South Korea. In the spirit of the God believed to protect the wellness of the island and sow seeds for a fruitful spring, islanders pray, hoping for the peacefully calm sea surrounding the island during the two-week duration of the ceremony.

The title of the album, 4.6m/s, is the average wind speed on the day the God of wind arrives on the island for over the past thirty years. Each track was written and presented in the order of the traditional ceremony procedures: Calling, Telling, Seeding and Playing – all of which are symbolic gestures of welcoming the wind deity and sending her back to her origin. Every component in the album is created in mixtures of field recordings and collaborative fulfillment with traditional instrumentalists and shamans based on the island. All the tracks are also incorporated with ambient sounds, spoken words and musique concrète, generating a variety of aural and texture affections at different parts of each sequence.

Released on December 10, 2022

Edition of 200

One side (22ʼ16”)
1. Calling (06ʼ50”)
2. Telling (09ʼ38”)
3. Seeding (03ʼ26”)
4. Playing (02ʼ22”)

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Entitled “Mixtape”, this catalogue brings together works by Dominique Hurth from 2008 to 2020. It comprises one text booklet with contributions by Daniela Cascella, Sonja Lau and the artist herself; one image booklet with 136 images from installation shots of Hurth’s work and one audio-tape (45-min each side) with recordings, music and sound material inherent to the research behind the works. The chosen format reflects on her interest in object-biography, technology and its history.

“We listened to historical recordings and futurist sounds, to tracks taking in everything from minimal wave and Detroit techno to hip-hop and chansons. We listened to the voices of the first speaking dolls that sounded like little monsters, to the voices of Sarah Bernhardt and Serge Gainsbourg as he burned a 500 Franc note on French TV. To Clarice Lispector as she lit a cigarette while being asked why she continued to write. We listened to music created in laboratories, music that was sent into outer space. We listened to lyrics and then languages and voices w couldn’t understand. Machine-generated sounds. Sounds created on celluloid. James Joyce reciting four pages of Finnegans Wake to Charles Ogden in the late 1920s. We listened to advertisements for vocoders and to music with vocoders as the primary transmitter of voice and the main musical instrument. We listened to France Gall singing — or rather, screaming — into the microphone at the Eurovisio Song Contest at the age of nineteen about being a doll made of wax and a doll made of sound. To a litany of okays sung by The Destroyer in a song by the Residents. To the breathing of Pauline Oliveros’s accordion. To the Holy Ghost in the Machine. To Minnie Riperton’s voice in the background, to atonal music, and to computer-generated hand claps. Electronic communication with the dead.
Jazz.
A countdown to zero. We listened to beats.

The several hours of sound that we listened to eventually became two side of forty-five minutes each — Side A and Side B. Condensed and edited in this way, this mixtape actually conceals and contains several other mixtapes, recalling all the other tracks that burst out of the edges of the magnetic band.” (”Mixtape(s)”, D. Hurth, 2020)

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Side A: Koenraad Ecker / Side B: The Pitch

C60 Cassette
Edition of 200

€9.50

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