One Inch Equals 25 Miles : Prose Generates Music

Heaven is a hand. Lord where no other besides. Great and to be feared are all idols. Stretched out to the firmament to command the formed. For my self alone I declare praise for there can be no mediator between demons. Believe that and shudder. Those who say in their hearts there is good do deeds and look down to see if there are any who are wise. For what can be known is plain to them ever since the invention of nature and philosophy, invisible though they have been and are seen through. This will happen. From the skies in blazing foam those who do not obey, not even one shall fall short of the wages. Mankind is destined to face nothing known. What cannot be revealed. And the days of our span soon gone and we fly away. Boast about what a day may bring. You cannot know what appears for a little while then vanishes. Our needs, our tires, everyone believes while we are born. Governments of all kinds, called wonderful counselor, will save your household. Come you who are burdened and give ear. I ride alone on the only escalator. Let my voice open unto you. Truth and lies come through me, born of sin, and through you, slave to eternity. I say you must eat the righteous. Bring your own dust back with you. Watch your step and wave to all foreigners while from the lake of torment you ascend. Retrieve the life, not through religion or salvation, but to make our world more elegant and convincing. Two men in the field. One descends and takes up a bride and surely the most distressing of human history would not want to be living during the shocking outcome. Many professing diligent washing will have disassociated. I tell you a mystery: hydrochloric acid melts iron but not the surface of this delicate lacquer bowl I hold in my hands. Accordingly we will not all sleep but we will be rearranged. When things begin to disappear, you will see the current generation rushing for the nearest subway station. I say wait for a second salvation. Arrive late at the summer of don't. Spend your eternity now so as to improve our destiny. Where there you be deliver this moment.

Frontispiece. Melody Sumner Carnahan, "Repent," from One Inch Equals 25 Miles [9]. Bassoonist Sam Rhodes based his solo on this story as part of the Out of Context ensemble's "conducted improvisation" performance of the book.

© Burning Books

Sound samples related to the discussion are available at <www.highmayhem.org/OOC-oneinch>.

In the collaborative effort described here, my intention was to ignite a collective interplay between my latest book of stories, One Inch Equals 25 Miles[1] (Frontispiece), and Dino J.A. Deane's "conducted improvisation" ensemble Out of Context (OOC) for a real-time live musical composition [2]. We hoped to merge music, vocals, electronics and words in a way that would spark further narrative and musical collaborations.

In most of my collaborations with musicians and composers over the past 20 years, voice has been primary. With some, however, the music takes over. All play upon my words in different ways that I enjoy [3]. One Inch Equals 25 Miles, as broadly interpreted by OOC, presented words and music in an unusual balance. The ensemble includes 10 performers with diverse backgrounds in music and theater [4]. OOC is dedicated to live conducted improvisation based on 28 hand signals that can be directed to one or several musicians or the entire group. The signs do not convey verbal directions but are "pictographs" that allow for multiple interpretations. As Deane describes it: "After the first decision, starting the piece, I make no choices. The ensemble makes them for me. The music is revealed to the audience at the same time it is revealed to us. Nobody knows where it's going. We all—players, conductor, audience—get there at the same time" [5].

Deane's method is gestural. So is mine. After hearing OOC play for the...