A Diary of Whispered Truths is a tool for creating images like the one above, which would be all very well and groovy, but as you paint, it sings. Well, in my case it coughs out rugged reams of chorduroy, unfashionable and about as smooth as sandpaper bog roll. It can make quite a racket. A Diary is controlled with mouse and keyboard, with the former ‘conducting’ the on-screen activity and the latter providing percussive punctuations. I did not conduct the images and sounds below. My compositions are much more erratic, experimental and ahead of their time.
It’s a brilliant example of this type of toy and when I read that I can input entire texts – literature, my favourite RPS features, a United Utilities bill – and see/hear the results, I was in danger of losing sleep. It’s hypnotic, to me at least. I should probably make it known that during my university years I was obsessed with music visualisation, which sounds like a short-hand wink-wink way to say that I was toasted off my brain on acid.
That would have put me at university in the sixties though, seventies at a pinch, and I’m not that old. When I say I was into music visualisation, I mean I was sitting supping my umpteenth lager and watching waveforms shimmer on my screen in time to This Is Hardcore.
This is my sort of thing, is the point, and if you’re not excited by the idea of seeing the complete poetic works of Thomas Hardy (dare I try the novels) translated into light and sound, you might not think it’s worth three quid. You’d be wrong. I struggle to find a pint of lager for three quid these days.
Seen (and heard) at Kill Screen.