It’s more than a week since Hymn to London Bridge.  Yesterday was the first showing at the Thames Festival of Bevis Bowden's film of the performance, and this tight deadline meant we had to go straight into putting the film together the moment the event had finished and the theremin was packed away.  The irony of doing a 24 hour performance and then having to listen to the whole of it again, immediately, was not lost on me.  It reminded me a bit of that couple who videoed their front garden every day while they were at work, and then watched the video every evening in real time, hoping to catch the neighbour flytipping.  A self-perpetuated loop of unreality.

Despite feeling quite tired I couldn’t be any happier with how it all turned out.  The technology worked perfectly, especially the Soundbeam muting system; you really did feel the presence of the passing pedestrians above as the blips of silence occurred, and the character of the piece developed exactly as I’d hoped it would throughout the day.

In the middle of the night the theremin drones were almost continuous.  There was one 30 minute spell where no one walked across the bridge at all. These early hours of Thursday morning were very beautiful, a real memory to be cherished.  It was a warm, very still night, the river glassy.  I built up a rather beautiful, simple loop that I was happy to let run, unaltered, for the couple of hours until dawn.  I felt a genuine connection with the few solitary people who cut the sensor beam.

The dawn was really quite something.  It crept up on us quite slowly, and still no one was around.  Here's a view of dawn, looking towards HMS Belfast and Norman Foster's City Hall, next to where the film was shown last night.

Click here to be taken to the extremely exciting page where you'll be able to listen to the Hymn to London Bridge Thereminathon © live throughout the 24 hour performance, communicate with me, and even watch some of the event from time to time. As it happens.

Functions will be turned on just before the event starts.

From The Guardian, Friday 27th August

Armed only with a theremin, Nick Franglen is hymning London's commuters, and they'll be helping - whether they know it or not.

Next Thursday, I am going to be playing a theremin under London Bridge for 24 hours. I will be starting and ending at midnight, in a slowly developing collaboration with the thousands of pedestrians who cross the bridge. I'll be situated on the walkway beneath the arches, feeding the output of the theremin into a series of loop and effect pedals to create continuous, complex washes of sound that will be audible on the walkway around me. Pedestrians crossing the bridge above will unwittingly affect this output: as they pass by, they will cut a hidden beam on the bridge that will momentarily mute the music I'm making, a little blip of silence imprinted by each passing pedestrian throughout the 24 hours.

At some point in the mid-90's I went to a big music gear trade show in Los Angeles.  Erroneously walking up one of the dead ends, where they put the acoustic foam and insulated cable ties manufacturers, I came across, stone me, Bob Moog at a stand no bigger than a 6ft square.  On his own with a theremin.  I knew that he had been making theremins, having just seen the (essential) Theremin documentary in which he features heavily, but it really did come as a surprise to see him there.  We got talking, and even played his theremin together with headphones on.  I really should add that to my CV.  

When I got back to the UK I ordered a theremin from his company in North Carolina.  They are now 'fully assembled with a beautiful ash cabinet', but not back then - it came as a partial self-assembly kit, a bit of soldering, that kind of thing.  I sprayed it silver metallic so it would look all space age, but I did it quite badly so it also looks a bit car on its third respray.  I've never screwed the lid down because the insides are slightly out of alignment so the power cable doesn't fit where the hole is.  It's number 100 or something so I guess they had only just started making them.

When I had my photos taken on Monday the wind blew it out of my hand, and it fell apart on London Bridge.  I've got it back together again, but I hope that's not a bad omen.  I was meant to be playing a custom built theremin made by Fred Mundell of Fundamental Designs, but unfortunately he suffered an injury so couldn't finish the instrument.  I hope that's not a bad omen too.  

It surprises me that some people don't know what a theremin is.  This film should make it clear.

I had my photo taken yesterday during the evening rush hour on London Bridge, for the Guardian article that's coming out on Friday.  It was very bright and extremely windy - Felix the photographer was worried his flash would blow away.  For a few of the shots I sat, cross legged, in the stream of commuters with a theremin in my lap.  Someone passing said "there you go, mate", and put 20p on the theremin.  You couldn't make it up - I'm still laughing about it.  I tried calling after him but he'd gone, as had the real street guy who'd had his cup out a bit further up, earlier on.  I've still got the 20p, I'll pass it on to a more deserving cause.  At a friend's suggestion:  I may be knocking up a board saying "not homeless, not hungry" for next week.

It's the first time I've been back to London Bridge in several weeks, it's all feeling very imminent.  There are still loose ends, I guess we'll have to sort those out on the fly.  For quite a long time I checked out the space where I'm going to be playing for quite a long time.  The moon was out over Tower Bridge when I left.

I first came across composer Edward Williams when I was asked by the fishing-and-oh-so-much-more website Caught By The River to review his excellent music for the 70's BBC series Life On Earth, released for the first time last year on Trunk Records.  While I researched that review I was surprised to discover that he'd invented the Soundbeam, the electronic instrument played without touch in a similar way to a theremin.  (When I say 'researched', what I really mean is 'read in the press release'.)  I'd played a Soundbeam some years ago - a music therapist friend had one - and thought then about trying something out with it, but that idea faded away.  It was its reappearance into my consciousness that triggered the London Bridge event.  I wondered what it would be like to combine it with a theremin, a duet played entirely without touch, and everything just rolled from there.

I've not met Edward Williams - he wasn't at Soundbeam HQ when I went up there to see if this Bridge thing would work - but a couple of days ago I came across this interview with him, where he talks about inventing the Soundbeam.  I found the ending of this clip remarkably moving.  What a brilliant, lovely man.

(Click on the picture to be taken to the interview)

I'm excited to announce the upcoming performance of my Hymn To London Bridge, a duet for Theremin and Soundbeam, taking place on Thursday September 2nd 2010.  

I'll going to be playing a theremin under London Bridge for 24 hours, starting and ending at midnight.  I'll be feeding the output of the theremin through all my loop and effects pedals to create continuous, complex washes of sound that can be heard on the underbridge walkway around me.  Pedestrians crossing over the bridge above will unwittingly affect this output : as they pass by they will cut a hidden beam on the bridge that will momentarily mute the music I'm making.  This long form piece will slowly change character as it's affected by the flow of pedestrian traffic on the bridge - in the middle of the night it'll be almost continuous sound with only the occasional blip of silence as someone passes, and at rush hour it'll be a very percussive experience, or maybe even silent as the masses of commuters rush by.  That's the theory anyway.