Liquid Architecture is an Australian organisation for artists working with sound. LA investigates the sounds themselves, but also the ideas communicated about, and the meaning of, sound and listening.
Our program stages encounters and creates spaces for sonic experience, and critical reflection on sonority and systems of sonic affect. To do this, we host experiences at the intersection of contemporary art and experimental music, supporting artists to produce performances and concerts, exhibitions, talks, reading groups, workshops and recordings in art spaces, music venues and other sites.
Liquid Architecture is curatorially driven and our methodology embraces research, collaborations and imaginations. We want to echo beyond local conversations, problems, debates and questions, to reverberate across media and disciplines, and so to sound out new discourses about the audible world, and beyond.
We acknowledge Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people as the first sovereign owners of this unceded country. We pay our respects to their Elders, past, present and becoming.
PO Box 12315
Liquid Architecture (LA) is committed to protecting the privacy and security of personal information obtained and stored about its audience or clientele, including users of this website.
We understand and appreciate that our audience or clientele and users of this website are concerned about their privacy and the confidentiality and security of any information that may be provided to us.
This policy applies when liquid architecture determines what information will be collected or disclosed, or how any information will be processed.
We take a broad understanding of what constitutes ‘personal information’. We understand ‘personal information’ to include any information relating to an identified or identifiable natural person. An identifiable natural person is one who can be identified, directly or indirectly, in particular by reference to an identifier such as a name, an identification number, location data, an online identifier or to one or more factors specific to the physical, physiological, genetic, mental, economic, cultural or social identity of that natural person.
We may update this policy from time to time by publishing the new version on our website.
THE TYPES OF PERSONAL INFORMATION LA COLLECTS
The following are examples of the types of personal information that may be collected by the organisation.
- Contact information including email address, phone number, names, gender, organisation, role.
- Connection information including linkages and referrals between people.
- Financial information including amounts paid to LA, donated to LA, or received by LA.
- When you visit our website, our server maintains an access log that includes the following information: the visitor’s IP address, the date and time of the visit to the site, the pages accessed and documents downloaded, the previous site visited, and the type of browser used.
- When you visit our website, cookies are installed on your device that provides information to Google Analytics to give us statistical information about our visitors.
HOW PERSONAL INFORMATION IS COLLECTED
LA collects personal information in a variety of different ways depending on the type of contact that is made with the organisation. We collect personal information both from individuals directly and from third parties.
- Subscribing to LA’s e-newsletter via the website, in-person or other means.
- Registering for LA’s programs of events (eg. performances, workshops, lectures)
- Purchasing a ticket for LA’s programs of events via a ticketing system (eg Eventbrite)
- Making an online enquiry.
- Making an individual donation to LA.
- Becoming a sponsor.
- Submitting a proposal to LA.
- Providing written feedback to LA.
- Through agreements with programming partners to add addresses to our mailing lists.
- Images of persons might be collected during documentation of an LA performance.
- If you become a LA Associate, Volunteer or Board Member.
LA may also collect personal information over the phone, in person or by electronic correspondence in order to undertake its regular administrative operations.
WHY PERSONAL INFORMATION IS COLLECTED
LA collects personal information in order to service the needs of its staff, audience and partnerships. This information is only used with your consent. Your personal information may be retained and used for the following purposes:
- For communicating about upcoming programs and services offered by LA and its partners.
- For documenting LA performances and events.
- To make recommendations to web-site visitors about other services that LA offers that may be of interest.
- To communicate to LA audiences on behalf of other arts or government organisations offering information regarding their products.
- To communicate with staff, artists, associates, volunteers, or Board Members.
- Notifying changes of program details.
- To market upcoming events.
- For market research purposes.
- To market online services.
All details are kept secure at all times and any individual may request their information is not used for direct marketing, research or any other purpose.
DISCLOSURE OF PERSONAL INFORMATION
LA will not sell, lend, disclose, or give personal information of its audience or clientele to external individuals or organisations without first obtaining the customer’s consent.
LA may, however, disclose your personal information or financial data (information exchanged in transactions relating to donations, ticket purchasing or any other product sold):
- To our insurer or legal advisors for the purpose of obtaining insurance coverage, obtaining professional advice, and managing risks.
- To our payment services providers or financial institutions. LA will share transaction data only to the extent necessary for processing, refunding, or dealing with queries about payments.
- In a situation where such disclosure is necessary for compliance with a legal obligation that LA is subject to, or in order to protect the vital interests of a person.
LA will not disclosure personal information to recipients in another jurisdiction unless that jurisdiction has a privacy regime at least as equally protective as Australia. LA will always ask for specific consent before disclosing personal information to a recipient in another jurisdiction.
PERSONAL INFORMATION ACCURACY
LA is committed to ensuring all personal information it collects is accurate, complete and up-to-date. However, the accuracy of this personal information to a large extent depends on the information provided by its clients. LA asks that all clients:
- Advise us if you become aware of any errors in your personal information.
- Advise of any changes in their personal details, such as address, email address and phone number.
At any time, any person has the right:
- To know what personal information LA holds about them and how it has been used.
- To correct or alter any personal information LA holds about them.
- To have the personal information about them erased.
- To withdraw consent for the collection, retention, disclosure, use or processing of personal information.
- To make a request or inquiry, write to firstname.lastname@example.org
The LA website contains links to other sites. LA is not responsible for the privacy practices of other sites. LA encourages users when they leave the site to read the privacy statements of each and every web site that collects personal information. This privacy statement applies solely to the activities of LA.
OUR DATA SECURITY POLICY
LA takes steps to prevent the personal information it holds from misuse, loss, interference or unauthorised access. Personal information is never stored in cloud servers.
LA will also destroy or de-identify personal information when it is no longer needed, or when requested.
Gerard Crewdson: Serpent Songs / Windshadows
For SOUND SERIES 2018, Gerard Crewdson presents site-specific acoustic sound sculptures. The centrepiece of the exhibition is a natural horn, nearly 5 metres long, made from a single hollow tube (like a didgeridoo) and played with a mouthpiece (like a Swiss alphorn). The horn resembles a ‘serpent’ – not only the creature – but also the instrument of that name which was the predecessor of the modern-day tuba.
Low brass instruments have traditionally been associated with raising the voices of the dead in both Western and non-Western cultures. These are the ‘serpent songs’ of the title but also the ‘windshadows’ – a compound word taken from a Paul Celan poem, Weiss Und Leicht / White and Light. This might be read as a wind of shades, of ghosts, blowing over the genocidal landscape of post WWII Europe. BLINDSIDE stands upon stolen, never ceded Wurundjeri land – a genocidal landscape with its own wind of shades, of ghosts, of voices lost or never heard.
Daily Performances by Gerard Crewdson
Fri. 22, and Sat. 23, June
Tue. 26–Sat. 30, June
Thu. 5, and Fri. 6, July
Sat. 7, July with Anthony Riddell
SERPENT SONGS /WIND SHADOWS
From Blindside’s website I have learnt that Melbourne stands upon stolen never ceded Wurundjeri land. This exhibition tries to respond to those words in their full force and meaning. I have read them through the lens of my own relationship with more familiar stolen lands-of the Eora nation in and around Sydney. Each work relates to the ground beneath our feet but begins and ends with silence-the not quite “Cageian” silence that always surrounds us.
The “Galileo Drums” and “Rice Wheel” can be turned to sound with small objects falling to earth either as quantum events or granular cascades. The “Serpent Horn” is difficult to play but is more designed to activate the viewer’s aural imagination so that they might hear lost ghostly voices on the fringe of silence. The “Cinema of Poor” is born from the experience of prolonged and actual poverty upon stolen lands and tells the story of a grave robber with live music. The Galileo Drums and Rice Wheel also link back distantly to a lost world of sound I once knew-the world of sound inhabited by a wheelchair bound blind man living in a government run group home on Sydney’s northern shore.
I was employed to care for Alan and other people with disabilities while completing a degree at Sydney College of the Arts. I continued this work post- graduation. Alan was constantly alert to the tiniest nuance of sound and its different spatial locations. He was always open and curious to experience new sounds but could also hear familiar sounds always in their original freshness. One night Alan was injured while being handled by staff-falling face first to the ground. Because of his intellectual disability he could not say what had happened. The staff reported it as an accident but on subsequent occasions Alan complained to me of being bullied by those same staff. I raised concerns with management about how Alan and the other residents were being mistreated.
The previous year I had been troubled by mysteriously violent dreams-such as a vision of standing at the edge of an abyss and being prodded in the back by a crowd of shadowy faceless strangers.
The dreams were premonitions. Overnight I was barred from my workplace and declared unfit for employment, unless I submitted to a psychiatric examination by a government appointed doctor –a catch 22-for the doctor had been hired to confirm my permanent, incurable unfitness ever to work again.
I refused and was suspended without pay and driven inexorably over the course of a year into destitution and homelessness.
Just before I reached this point, I met Isabel Coe-a lifelong Aboriginal activist and co-founder of the Aboriginal tent embassy. She invited me into a smoking ceremony on the dry earth of a park in Balmain, just off from the main shopping street. She and her people had reoccupied Cockatoo Island in Sydney Harbour. I later attended court as a supporter as they battled my employer- the Crown in the Right of NSW. I remember the instant rage of a supreme court judge when the Aboriginal flag was unfurled along the back wall of the court.
At the same time I was in a grossly uneven fight with the same shape shifting/ accountability-dodging monster and in the same hostile courts. This battle dragged on for eight years of homelessness and poverty during which time I forged an intimate visceral, unmediated relationship with stolen lands of the Eora. Sometimes I slept on the hard surfaces of the CBD –kept awake by the city’s ceaseless hum and street light glare. Other times I would shift to the grassy surface of the parks where the air was fresher but the risks of being beaten up greater . I would closely clutch to my side my most precious possession-a King trombone in its case. My favourite place was near a lonely stretch of beach south of Port Kembla. The skin of my trombone is pockmarked with the air’s salty spray. Towards the end of my ordeal, I was welcomed into a young community of Sydney musicians exploring collaborative improvisation and composition. Their approach to sound and intense listening reminded me of Alan’s sound world of the blind.
This community and parallel communities in Aotearoa /New Zealand were literal life- savers for me.
They helped me survive my ordeal on the stolen lands. Others have not survived. In the abyss on the ground you learn of so many stories of terrible injustice perpetrated by the state- always against the most vulnerable and defenceless. Their voices are the shadow winds that blow across the land-winds of shades, of ghosts. (“Windshadows” from the Paul Celan poem “Weiss und Leicht” /”White and Light” –evoking the haunted genocidal landscape of post war Europe). The serpent horn with its darkened ashen skin invites their voices into this space so that they might have a hearing.
There are people in this land too frightened to look at the ground beneath them. I saw this in Sydney one hot January day in 2009. I had returned to New Zealand and was briefly back in Australia. It was a mid- week lunch hour . Pedestrians teemed along the footpaths. I was dashing to a post office across from the Queen Victoria building. A young Aboriginal woman was sitting on the ground by a pedestrian crossing, quietly at work on a tiny radiant dot painting. There was a cup for donations next to her but it was empty. The crowd flowed past and around her without stopping or even looking down. They had rendered her invisible I placed some coins in her cup. On my return from the from the post office I sat down on the ground beside her. She was as welcoming as Isabel Coe had been under the trees of Balmain. I felt perfectly at home with her as the indifferent world rushed on by above us.
Gerard Crewdson 13/6/18
We acknowledge the Wurundjeri, Boonwurrung, Taungurong, Dja Dja Wurrung and the Wathaurung people of the Kulin Nation as the custodians of the land in which this event takes place, and we recognise that sovereignty was never ceded. We pay our respects to their Elders, past, present and emerging.