Teenwolf’s dub of Sovroncourt’s “Listening to the Scream and Rebus With Wind Chimes”

This feature is Teenwolf’s dub of Sovroncourt’s conceptual sound-piece “Listening to the Scream and Rebus With Wind Chimes.” Please listen to Teenwolf’s dub and then listen to the song that inspired it. Thanks to everyone who’s participated in the project, and for your viewership. Enjoy!

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A note about ‘listening to the scream and rebus with wind chimes” and the Teenwolf dub:
The highly conceptual nature of both the original Sovroncourt version of the song and the Teenwolf dub make this one of my favorite collaborations in the Sovroncourt Ekphrastic Project. Part of the fun of a song like this is the work it takes to untangle the various references in the title as well as the auditory clues embedded in the song itself. For this reason I don’t want to reveal too much, but would like to direct the listener’s attention to the work of Robert Rauschenberg. Teenwolf says his “piece is a riff on the very process of creating.” Teenwolf has added layers of audio puns and references in order to “compound the synchro mythological energy” that Sovroncourt set into motion in the original. Happy unraveling.  – Jason Kaufman

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“Grumpy Cat’s Cat-thartic Afternoon”, by Alan Mathos

This feature is a humorous poem written by Alan Mathos, inspired by “Someone Else’s Life”, track 6 on the Waves and Wheels album. Please read Alan’s ekphrastic poem and then listen to the song that inspired it. Enjoy!

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A note from Alan Mathos about his poem:

“This is my ekphrastic piece for “Someone Else’s Life” by Sovroncourt. Hopefully, you’ll find it amusing. These could be alternative song lyrics, because they fit the general meter of the song. I was listening to it one day and the idea just came to me. Something about the tone of the song seems to fit perfectly with a certain iconic figure that has become popular in recent years.”

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Grumpy Cat’s Cat-thartic Afternoon

Grumpy Cat is the name I’ve worn
ever since the litter in which I was born
One of five clumps in the kitty litter box
raised with Rottweilers in the School of Hard Knocks.

My mama Sassafras
knows every tomcat in town
Now I’m related to half
of the bastards around.

And if my papa Boots
coulda heard worth a damn
he woulda noticed the sound
of that minivan.

Nothing cheers me much
Music rubs me wrong,
but coughing up a hairball gets me
through most love songs.

Only Cat Power can
make this cold heart stir
and that Euro singer Miss Kittin
can make me sorta start to purr.

You may be wonderin’
when I say I’m smilin’
Where is that sunshine, then
my black-eyed friend?

Just show me a bankrupt man,
a fire, or a pack of lies,
and you will see a gleam
begin to brighten up my eyes.

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“Swimming the Dam”, a letter from Llalan Fowler inspired by sovroncourt’s song of that title

This feature is a letter written by Llalan Fowler that was inspired by “Swimming the Dam, track 5 on the Waves and Wheels album. Please read Llalan’s ekphrastic piece and then listen to the song that inspired it. Enjoy!

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My old friend,

How are you? I’m hanging in there–thanks for your last letter. This time of year is always hard for me. It’s that “certain slant of light.” I know you know that. Remember the day we drove to the lake? That was around now — early fall. I wrote a poem about it the next day. This was back when I wrote poems. The leaves were turning and some were dropping already. One line described a yellow tree across the lake from us that unravelled like a sweater, its gold leaves spiralling down onto the motionless lake. The water was so still it reflected the colorful hills back at us. In my memory we sat on a pale tablecloth, though I can’t imagine either of us having one back then. You carried a picnic in plastic grocery bags up the levee to where it flattened out. You brought hummus and chips and little sealed sandwich baggies with vegetables you had cut up. I didn’t eat much. I was busy pretending I didn’t notice you reaching for my knee or my hand, and you were busy pretending not to notice me scooting away from you, bunching up the tablecloth around my folded legs until I was wedged in one corner, almost in the grass. The grass was still bright green even though the leaves were turning, the way it is in southern Ohio when school starts. So green I thought of rolling away down the grassy hill. Bugs hopped around my fingers and I wanted to cry. I was embarrassed to be in my socks with you. We weren’t in the poem, just the tree and the water, but the poem is long gone and here we are. Thank you for the pictures. Your daughter is beautiful. I wonder what you will tell her about me. Tell her about the sky that day, that ecstatic blue and the bright alive smell of dirt and water and leaves. Tell her about the yellow tree.


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