Track-list:
Waiting for Clothes to Dry (Makoto Oshiro)
Waiting at the Doctor's Office (Merey Şenocak)
Waiting in a Schnelltest Queue (Makoto Oshiro)
Waiting for the Train (Juan Pablo de Lucca)
Waiting in the Boarding Pass Queue (Merey Şenocak)
Waiting on the Line for the Bank (Merey Şenocak)
Waiting for the Garbage Pick-up (Makoto Oshiro)
Waiting for Poosh to Wake-up (Simina Oprescu)
Composition for the Waiting / a wasted radio piece is curated by Merey Senocak, creating a metaphor on 'waiting' meanwhile the act is transformed into an archive of manoeuvres and sounds inside the waiting spaces. Collaborating with them and internalizing them, they become places of 'listening'.
Thinking on the social and individual aspects of the phenomenon, we ask ourselves how can 'waste' of time turn into fruitful moments?
References:
The text is waiting to be written,
He repeated,
Wanted to be repeated,
Boooouunnnce ...
(Juan Pablo de Lucca)
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Space is a place filled with meaning. Every space and place is a waiting space.
As I am waiting into a quiet place makes to hear my thoughts louder. Therefore the room is very loud.
"If we would have to imagine a world of perfectly conditioned and broadly standardised simulations of spaces, of multiplexed feel-good and feel-bad worlds, composed of various spatial simulations like "phenotopes" (perceptual spaces), "ergotopes" (labouring and exercising spaces), "aggelotopes" (communication spaces), "chariotopes" (entertainment spaces), "polemotopes" (conflict spaces), "erototopes" (erotic spaces), "uterotopes" (breeding spaces), "nootopes" (spaces of thought),
"alethotopes" (spaces of knowledge), "scandalotopes" (spaces of excitement), "technotopes" (spaces offeasibility), and "chirotopes" (spaces of management).
They would be full of fancy spatial magic and poetry, full of resonances confirming their facticity and meaningfulness, and their implementations would
appear to be perfectly rational. However, as simulations of spaces, they wouldn't
be perfect if they would allow any outside perspective. After all, that is how perfect simulations work, isn't it?"
(Exerpted and rephrased from All about space - vol 3, beyond the Object - ALICE by Simina Oprescu)
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What in the world am I waiting for? Nothing is clear to me. It's all just hazy. But I am waiting.
Am I waiting for someone or something to serve? No. Am I waiting for my lover? No, I am not. A frieand? No way. Money? Never. A ghost? God no.
What am I waiting for then?
(Exerpted and rephrased from Osamu Dazai's "Matsu(待つ)". by Makoto Oshiro)
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Time flies stick to honey with their ethereal legs and hairy bellies. Honey, also called time. Time is sticky. Draws you in, or out of itself, yourself.
Time is the substance 'we' are made of. So the flies, and the larvas, the fruit and the honey, the soil it was bread on, all made with and in time.
The buzz, the slurp, and the tick-tok. All the movements my mouth has made. Is on time.
(Merey Senocak)
