The cry of a cicada is a symbol of summer in Japan. Japanese people realize that the end of summer is approaching because the kind of cicada which is singing changed. I recorded this soundscape around the pond of Osaka University of Arts.

I began working on “Irene Electric” in the summer of 2011, the day before hurricane Irene hit New York City. I was living one block up from the East River at the time, in what was designated a Red (danger) Zone. The air was buzzing with tension: electrical energy, media hype and genuine anxiety from the people around me. I was paralysed with fear. Just over a year later, I spent six weeks in the rain forest on Mount Makiling in the Philippines. I was living in a small wooden hut without a kitchen. Instead, I cooked outside. The heat and humidity were overwhelming. My leather shoes were eaten away by mould within a couple of weeks. I was advised to keep my electric goods stored in plastic bags for protection. Storms were regular, violent and exciting. It seemed the rainforest, the people living there, the buildings they constructed and the clothes they wore, everything was adapted to the inevitability of change and decay. The children I was working with at the Philippine High School for the Arts seemed to love their mountain home. Their vivid imaginations were driven by the mysteries of the dark rainforest, which completely surrounded them. The English they spoke was lyrical and complex, with roots as convoluted as the vegetation of the forest. In contrast to New York City, the energy here felt transformative, mobile, grounded and timeless. For the tape part of “Irene Electric”, I worked closely with the young students at the Philippine High School for the Arts. My aim was both to make the most of the unique lyricism of their spoken English, as well as to get material that would, through its grammatical structures, content, and mode of delivery, express the hyped energy of New York City, in contrast to the power of organic processes that dominated my time in the Philippines. The violin’s role in ”Irene Electric” is not only as a participant in the stories told by the children of PHSA, but also as a mutable, wooden object from which sounds are produced under conditions of extreme duress.