Abstract
The Great Fences of Australia project of Jon Rose and Hollis Taylor finds the duo crisscrossing the continent in pursuit of their instruments. They draw on bass and cello bows to reveal the sonic properties of diverse fences, including the iconic Rabbit-Proof and Dingo Fences. Their bowed fence explorations are the result of a collision among the biophony, the geophony, and the anthrophony, as evidenced by five transcriptions from their many road trips. The sonic complexity of fences is echoed in the rich metaphors that they suggest. Outback landscapes may be experienced as awestruck splendor as well as read for historical signs, both ancient and modern. Following on this, the duo joins the landscape as documenters, facilitators, and catalysts—as sonic cartographers sounding the land, the lives, and the politics of the Australian outback.
I thank Jon Rose for his assistance in the preparation of this manuscript.
Disclosure Statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.
Notes
[1] See, for instance, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUARc6ufZAk. Also see https://vimeo.com/7809333; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-BAqDGtQPY; and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1V5zFGZnGo.
[2] ‘Jon Rose is the Jascha Heifetz of fence music’ (David Harrington, Kronos Quartet, on ABC Radio National's The Music Show, 9 January 2010; see http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/musicshow/kronos-quartet-and-jon-rose/3096888).
[3] See Taylor (Citation2007, pp. 99–142).
[4] See also Farina (Citation2014).
[5] Tim Ingold observes that ‘landscape’ is multi-sensorial in nature and can accommodate our sonic encounters. For him, ‘soundscape’ objectifies sound rather than treating it as experiential. His argument, however, fails to convincingly grapple with the overwhelming visual connotation that accompanies the word ‘landscape’. At issue is ultimately not the word but the habit behind it, and our habit is to favor seeing over hearing and looking over listening (Ingold, Citation2007).
[6] A decade after our initial trips, some towns are now proposing the tourist bait ‘Dog Fence ends here’.
[7] Architect Robin Boyd described the national urge toward needless embellishment as ‘featurism’ in his classic book, The Australian Ugliness (Boyd, Citation1960).