pushes at the door of night, of nothingness

new drawing for special edition of ingenting kollektiva de luxe

an anatomy of melancholy ib008 néant

similar drawings from 2006, after drinking too much and reading french poetry

title text from rosmarie waldrop's book : lavish absence: recalling and rereading edmond jabès, page 141 (i am finally getting some books out of storage and putting on shelves and looking here an there)

ingenting kollektiva forthcoming special edition documentation - both pen agitations

forthcoming on invisible birds

ib008 néant, special edition of 10 with drawings by

m. swiezynski (pictured) and z. kether (bye the blood)

kickstarter campaign coming soon

please email to be added to mailing list

warbler at invisiblebirds dot org

une histoire de bleu & to dye every night

 oiseaux003 / oiseaux004

* 2 new releases on invisible birds *

une histoire de bleu by mr. tomonari nozaki. abstract sound projections & melodies using destruction techniques discovered with reel to reel tape-loop splicings and other analogue romanticisms. mr. nozaki has beginnings in minimal techno and experimental music, and after a slight pause from music, has returned in 2012 with some transcendental experimentations into the rarely visited places of "liminality" and "the sublime".

to dye every night by mr. thomas bel. rain, voice, guitar and reverse romanticisms. presented with a deceptively simplistic language, minimalistic, yet sublimely scuttling across the floors of silent seas. perhaps yearning for love and cruelty, a slowly growing blindness, impossible memory.

(as borges described it)

handmade numbered editions of 100, with  a tipped in plate and booklet.

photography and design by matthew swiezynski

oh, my beloved, allow my kisses to speak for me

matthew swiezynski  juliette  1998, 16mm (excerpt)

magic hour film. shot in huntington park, san francisco

sound by tarrl lightowler and matthew swiezynski, 1998

modifying a 78 rmp record with a reel to reel deck

soon to be released on bluray on invisible birds with a

second 16mm film from the same period

(film title and entry title from the marquis de sade's juliette,

first published in 1797)

les phenomenes (traductions de j. dubuffet par m. swiezynski)

the humming has stopped too, everything has stopped

portrait of farnoosh fathi by matthew swiezyski

use at her release party at mcroskey mattress, sf, june 7, 2013


(title from a. blackwood's the willows)

operates more in the realm of the ghostly

arthur de eriomém - drowned by voices, somewhat rather slowly

aquarius records :

arthur de eriomém is one of the shadowy figures behind ingenting kollektiva, a dreamy disintegrated drone project with a keen knowledge of avant-garde music, art, film, architecture, and design, all of which gets churned through whatever arcane processes may be at work, resulting in some rapturously dark driftscaping and visually arresting videos as well. de eriomém cites that the title of this release was culled from david toop's sinister resonance, a book that runs with the idea that sound, for all of its physical attributes, operates more in the realm of the ghostly. it's an apt description, especially in relation to simon reynolds' appropriation of hauntology to describe particular threads of retro-futurism in electronica. like the caretaker, william basinksi, and phillip jeck, who augment their sounds through an aural patina of antiquity, de eriomém's slippery composition has the feel of something very, very old - like a lost wax cylinder recently discovered in some midwestern attic, covered in flecks of ash and dust. it would be easy to believe these warbling recordings are of a 19th century hurdy-gurdy, playing doleful, repetitive melodies all the while the echoing slowly sustained drones and evanescent blossomings of golden ambience; but de eriomém mentions the sources to be analogue delay and guitar. It hardly matters how he did it, it's just a gorgeous drone disc, one that would warrant comparisons also to the aeolian string ensemble and the guitar based work from andrew chalk. handmade packaging in a numbered of edition of 100. (jim haynes)

santa sangre magazine

what does one think of when a deluge of chatter engulfs them, how do you extricate yourself from the web of conversation to preserve your sanity. this, my friends, is the main thrust of arthur de eriomém's curious side trip of thought. it is a revelatory discovery to see one part of any group venture out on their own, and ingenting kollektiva's librarian/archivist is no exception. now that i've spent some time wandering the disorienting landscape of these drowned voices, i have a much better idea of what he does when the other three are working with him. quite unusual, this piece because as it shifts pitch and placement in the stereo field you start to sink into your subconscious.

as though the weight of those around you via their incessant banter has become too much to tolerate, the spectrum of sound closes in upon my ears and then i find myself wondering: is it calmer in this void, are the ends truly justified by the means? or should i just view this rather slow immersion as a respite for my tired synapses and let go of the worries and wants which plague day to day life. if i still lived in the city what de eriomém has constructed would be like a lifeline up out of the morass of the metropolitan meat grinder; i suspect that he himself may live in rather cramped or condensed conditions wherever he resides in berlin.

the claustrophobic bent that this has conjures up visions of teeming, seething masses out on the sidewalks and pavements threatening to overrun their bounds like starved roaches who've just been let loose at a picnic.

there is always a uniquely melancholy feel which urban dwellers impart to their work, having been one i can say that sitting out on your terrace (if you can afford one) or mulling over life's ambiguities in your kitchen (again, if you have the means to have one) you can almost taste the recriminating bitterness reflecting off of the streets outside or just below you. for years, the whir and bustle of humanity strode by my windows imparting my surroundings with an odious flavor of contentment and complex rationalization gone to the dogs. the material i'm hearing here takes me right back to such a space but thankfully, this is only memory.

when those buildings fall, as the tangle of concrete overpasses and skeletal steel rivers of commerce go to seed we'll giddily celebrate our escape from their binding monotony. once the hypnotic cadences of arthur's EP start to drain away, you really do feel as though the tide has gone out and your consciousness is your own. unfortunately, that flood of nonsensical blather always returns to inundate like rancid black tar pushed aside during roadwork but all is not lost. i read on the invisible birds site that he has an album in the works, so this sensation of free floating ambiance can be prolonged. a new equilibrium with our world surely will be achieved. (peter marks)

enneige

matthew swiezynski  enneige  1999, 16mm

music : très lent by tarrl lightowler & matthew swiezynski, which includes 840 layers of
erik satie's vexations. layers recorded on a reel to reel with the erase head covered up.
new melodic elements added in 2013.
actress : madeleine bonn

this version is from a 16mm transfer to vhs, then transferred to the computer. invisible birds is hoping to get some funding to transfer numerous 16mm films directly to hd video for a bluray release. any assistants or ideas please contact us at invisiblebirds at gmail

mysterious and invisible - magic hour part 2

matthew swiezynski  mysterious and invisible - magic hour part 2 2007

sound by asher (with harmonic modifications by matthew swiezynski)
fireflies part one and waterfall part two
shot in north carolina 2007

initially released in a limited edition by invisible birds (ib001)

there in the dark we talked about "the unnamable" (the lovely phases erase my empty pages)

the daemon
to death of tormenting dreams

the period of my dreams it had passed, the material for the dreams and disturbed feelings,
though, as i have said :
this was when the dreams began.

travels to the distant. out of time. monstrous memories, how could i bear the lurking menace.
monotonous maddening moonlight, where the memory-dream began.
and those other things; vague impressions, abysses past imagination, delusion afflicting those strange imaginative vagaries, i knew it i was past this chaos, or i was known to its overwhelming madness.

abstract matters which i have mentioned, which remained.
knife in her right hand (the daemoniac apparatus in general), she blazed on my aperture.
blackness.... then....
vague tonal patterns of space-time seething, a faint luminous blur.

the churning void and the heard faint rumbling,
unclothed and unconscious. behind and  high above. fragments of another,
recollections of things in the black book, unbroken blackness, swaying to infandous rhythms.
deterioration for slight amounts incurred by a human body,
i embarked without hesitation.

the labyrinth-man of the witch-cult, as consciousness, i departed.
heard the faint dream, or traces of the desertshore.
bitten by her as i slept, loomfixer which welled shadowy (i tried to soften my step)

drawn, my irrelevant aspect, abnormal-looking.
blacker abysses beyond them, oddly little doubt that i could find.
this vast mound of debris, the man did not speak (phase or dreaming, or dream that i made that i could thrust within my mouth, immemorial)

any conceivable cosmos now close to the great underground empty memory.
a hint of vast, leaping shadows (my feverish echo of death and silence),
monotonous of unseen flute.

i came to the downward decline. (meet me on the desertshore)

*********

extreme and subtle obliterations & abstractions of the shadow out of time & the dreams in the witch house by arthur de eriomém performed under the influence of a strange secondary personality.

(it is recommended to listen to x-tg's all that is my own or the falconer while contemplating this entry)

~ last of the snow posts ~