Alexander Talts is currently pursuing a masters degree in comparative literature at Södertörn University College, and has a background as a dance performer and choreographer. Alexander is also involved in 'folkbildning' through facilitating study circles about literature at Hägerstensåsens medborgarhus. https://www.instagram.com/alexandertalts/

At first, when I flipped a page of the notebook I am writing this on, it made a sound, like turning the thin pages of a hymnbook in church.


[quietly]: how does a space perform in such a way that it is conceived as sacral? After a while, such a sound was no longer possible. [in conversational volume]: it is how we perform our entering the space. Singing, music, speaking. [thinking]: performing thoughts in a manner that makes the delays and overlaps visible, but with a mask of spontaneity and authenticity. The thing is the attempt, at least. The pre-codex way of thinking but shaped as a treatise. The thing is the movement between pages in no particular order.


When we gather around an object, it becomes a thing. It moved, or was moved, forward, or at least towards us, seems like forward. And so, it shifted the room, yet still making visible the old room, that which was there before. There is this thing about a fabric being see-through sometimes and opaque other times. I heard silk fabric keeps you warm when it’s cold and cools you down when it’s warm. There is this thing that happens to a dress or a suit when you put on high heels. Walk the walk, talk the talk.


Breathing is said to be that which connects the insides of the body with the outside world. One moves their head, one is still. There is a threshold between breathing and sounding. Grunting, groaning, whimpering. There is the text, then there is the reading of it. Many, many different ways of reading. What is the thing with abnormally extended breaths? There are sounds, and many, many different ways to resonance.


There is a thing when you talk without moving your mouth. Face as one location on a map among others. The thing is: ventriloquism. But there must be another word, one that does not mean weird dolls and freudian uncanny. It is more like making the small space between movement and sound very big, very visible. Energy of the horse, breathing of sloth.


There is this thing about microphones. The microphone in itself bears a message. The message is something like: what you hear is not what is real. There is this thing when a sound can travel or appear disembodied. Mikros = small; phōnē = sound. What dictates the scale of sounds? Trying ways to receive a sound, as if it was the touch of a massage therapist, or the words of a clairvoyant.


There are a lot of cables behind this. Behind, under, beyond. There are two laptops; they are in charge of different things but they talk to each other. Digital clicking from the corner, strange buzzing from above. How is the experience of this thing mediated as an observation? How sticky will this thing be? How does this observation become a matter of fact? Retaining breaths for short moments, the ocular machine of recognition, the stillness in sitting still.


Flickering lights as when you walk past a house at night and the TV is on inside. What did the voice in the TV say again? There is this thing that happens to language when it is unintelligible. Static, ambiance, muttering. How do you speak in such a place? Tempo of a pre-recorded announcement, energy of a palimpsest.


Turning on the lights made the room visible.

BY ALEXANDER TALTS

Turning the lights off will make the room visible.