Memory Theater

In many ways, the method by which we now compose and record music, is very much like the editing of film. Film editing takes the linear experience of real life and rearranges the sequence of events to construct a story line, and places things in specific contexts (“reel” life). This is much different from real-time performance, where there are no second chances, and the only option is to do it right the first time. You could film a theatrical event and later go back, rearrange the sequence of events, include a soundtrack and you’d have something completely different from the actual performance. By simply adding a sound to a visual event you can change its meaning. Placing one event before another changes the viewers interpretation of the moment. And in music, making recordings gives us the illusion of things taking place in one moment, but in fact could have taken place days, weeks or even years apart. 

[10/19/2026: This is exactly what's happening in the film (or documentary within a film) You Can See Everything. Audio and sound design hides in plain sight in a film like this and is having a huge effect on how you react and how you understand the characters].

In the mid to late 1960s, recording technology grew exponentially. When the Beatles started experimenting in the studio with the new 4-track machines and studio effects they suddenly had the ability to simulate environments and contexts in lots of creative ways. At the time this was seen as a solution to the problems associated with live performance (the primary one being the inability to be heard over screaming teenage girls, and secondarily the wealth of creative possibilities in the recording studio “vacuum”). With the expertise of composer/producer George Martin, who introduced the Beatles to the world of experimental music, they now had the option of playing with tape and effects, which had many similarities with the editing of film.

Memories and dreams are like edited films, although the “editing” that the brain does seems purely random--although there may be times when events are more than a mere coincidence. Most of us dream in fragments, and when we awake, assemble the fragments into a meaningful narrative, connecting the dots into an identifiable shape. We see them as a sign of something that might happen to us in our lives, and in many instances they in fact do.

It’s also a bit like an “optical illusion” where the brain perceives something that is not inherently there, but becomes an emergent property of simultaneous, overlapping events.

If you are familiar with the geometric paintings of Mondrian (Red, Yellow and Blue, 1921), you have noticed that where lines intersect, you see dots. As the eye and brain process the lines, this effect is automatically created by the brain.  Similarly with Memory Theater, the random contexts (lines) create a narrative (dots), and contrives a story, even though there really is no “story” per se.

[In the case of You Can See Everything, the viewer is intentionally confused by not being clear what the genre is. It's a very compelling feeling. This is what drew me to the works of W.G. Sebald. You're never sure what kind of book you're reading. Is it a history book, a travelogue, or just a novel?]

10/19/2002