It’s been three-quarters of a year since my first article for Slowist about my ‘Waratah and Others’ piano and photography project. It has been an interesting nine months in many ways. I’ve made intermittent progress with the project, interspersed with various challenges, both personal and structural. Like most things in life, it hasn’t gone exactly to plan, but there have been silver linings, personal discoveries, and interesting side-tracks along the way.
The Great Lockdown of 2020 inspired chorister & pianist Louisa Billeter to undertake an epic piano project, recording a piano piece every day for a year and sharing the results each day on social media. This stunning effort led to a new project… combining Louisa’s interests of piano, photography and native Australian plants.
In this article we will learn of the path that led Louisa to ‘Waratah and others’ and look forward to an ongoing series of articles to accompany her on the journey as it unfolds, at its own perfect pace.
A while back, I put a sticker on my looper pedal that reads “I am stupid” (referring to the pedal). I can admit now, it was a pretty passive-aggressive move.
John Shapter, performing as Headzic is the ‘accidental musician’, developing his ambient music style through clinical practice and mindful therapies.
Such a sparsely populated environment as the Mojave desert has clearly been a huge influence on Harold Budd’s style, which contains classical and jazz elements, though probably hews more closely to the modern ambient template (Budd prefers the term ‘soft pedal’).
It is truly fascinating and an incredible privilege to witness the creation of art, to see the work offer itself to the artist, to see how the artist gives the work to the world, and how the work shapes the artist.
Jessica Mallock has entrusted us to view this journey in the development of her ‘Outbreaths’ series.
The third and final piece in this series of mindful poems from Debbie Lewis – ‘Stop’.
Six months ago, I was sat in my bedroom at my University in a deep depression. However, this felt completely different than the suffocating feeling I’d ever felt before, it felt peaceful. Like I was one with the universe, reality felt so slow. So, while blasting ‘K.’ By Cigarettes After Sex’, tears streaming down my face, I wrote the following…
The second in a series of three mindful poems from Debbie Lewis. More of the wonderful observation that we saw in ‘Down by the water’.
It was the early days of March and the UK had yet to go into lockdown as the coronavirus pandemic loomed ever larger.
This was the era of panic buying and supermarket shelves being stripped bare of goods including hand sanitiser and dried pasta. The streets of Manchester were tinged with a sense of impending doom, but no-one was quite sure what was coming…