I founded the label in 1994 at the age of twenty. Back then, I was a bit more involved in the post-industrial and noise subculture. Basically, the idea of creating a label was for me to have some sort of official vehicle which would let me get in touch with artists I was interested in, and having a label would allow me to approach artists different-ly and on another level than being just a concerned fan, because I would be able to offer something in return (e.g. the publishing of a record or edition).
In my opinion, culture shouldn’t be a one-way street and I didn’t want only to suck information but give something back to this culture, to work for it and get really involved. Back then, this was actually the only way to gain knowledge; you had to work hard to get information; things wouldn’t just come your way without you mak-ing a considerable effort. You really needed passion and curiosity, and patience. And to start to distribute records and editions yourself was a necessity when you started a label in those days. Trading your products with other labels was the norm and part of the culture. As I wrote before, this isn’t (or rather, wasn’t) a one-way street, but a more healthy “scene,” so different from today.
And over the years, my label changed along with my interests and curiosity. But the label (as an entity) continued to function as a vehicle for this. I often in my “career” approached artists I knew only very little about but was very interested in and eager to find out more. I would ask them to let me into their world and philosophy and would be able to offer something in return.
TOCHNIT ALEPH Daniel Löwenbrück tochnit-aleph.com
Based in Berlin, established in 1994
Dorothy Iannone, Hermann Nitsch, Christina Kubisch, Dieter Roth, Gerhard Rühm, Valeri Scherstjanoi, Roman Signer, Wolf Vostell, Artur Żmijewski…
In the face of technological over-consumption, and the constant evolution of data storage media, cassette tapes have emerged as a poor medium in terms of data manipulation but one that lasts. Cassettes produce a warm sound along with a background WHISPER that new technologies have attempted to eradicate completely (with the exception of digital emulation).
Cassettes enable us to respond to the fear of this “void” and make up for this lack of irregularities, errors and artifacts. It makes it possible to work with magnetic media, to sculpt this support, to reap the benefits of magnetic sound compression, referred to as the “glue effect,” which homogenizes a sound mix, and allows for a desired harmonic distortion.
They also have the advantage of being able to be exchanged hand to hand, thus creating a direct connection between the producer and the listener, as well as the creation of a physical artwork.
Continuing to use cassettes keeps alive a musical movement that fought to retain its independence (especially over the course of the 1980s).
The current obsession with coolness will not change anything when faced with the fear of silence and death. This medium is not just used by cool people.
Aymeric de Topol
MC According to Charlemagne, they were drawings of arrows, and there was also an audio installation on loud-speakers. He made it at a time when he was piloting planes. They were broadcasts, in real time, of air traffic controllers with music droning in the background.
JA It reminds me of a project by Diego Cortez which I exhibited, for which he had worked with a guy named Seth Tillet who had a gallery in Brooklyn. They created a performance piece in which they used a CB [radio] next to Ecart. They had taped the exchanges of truckers. It was sort of the same idea…
LS You did several broadcasts on John Duncan and Paul McCarthy’s [program] Close Radio with Ecart.
JA It was the time of alternative radio. We had done a series of live broadcasts of various lengths. Once we did a concert with Giuseppe Peri. Our best program was on a day we had gone rowing. We simply put the microphone on the boat, we didn’t speak. As a result, all you heard for an hour was the sound of the oars. I also did some things with Bleu LagunE, and performed a piece by Christian Marclay. There were many people doing this type of thing. We did an exhibition with Brion Gysin, which was part of a masterclass at the Colloque de Tanger. It took place at Ecart, part of it in the Salle Patiño where, at the time, the center for contemporary art was located. I was not the one doing the programming, but since they needed a space, we used the Ecart space. All this because I was close to an American who had been living in Villars, on the other side of the valley, who owned a bookstore called Am Here Books. He had scrapbooks by [William] Burroughs, and tons of totally bizarre books, as well as ti-tles by [George] Maciunas. Since this was of interest to me, we put together an exhibition on concrete poetry, and, consequently, audio versions of this type of thing. It was in the middle of the 1970s. [Henri]
Chopin had taken me to Gysin’s place, who, at the time was on his first deathbed. [Gysin] told me to go see him at Camden Hospital, since no one knew he was there. I did not know Gysin at the time. I went there and, on the top floor, there was this enormous cloud of smoke. He was constantly smoking joints! When I got there, he said,
“Hide everything!” It was very sweet, but he was dying… and three years later, I ran into him on the streets of Paris. He lived on for three years after his first death.