Operator Calculus, Co.

An Oakfield practice

Oakfield Press

Essays, experimental music & visual culture.

Oakfield Press brings together David Kirby’s publishing projects: Channels of Communication, an essay publication concerned with communication, technology, and aesthetic experience; and HOMOPHONI, an experimental net-label focused on electro-acoustic improvisation & composition with supplemental visual archive of historical advertising & technological imagery.

An ornate piano with carved legs and a decorated music stand.
An engraved piano. Printing specimen No. 3936, circa 1892. MacKellar, Smiths & Jordan Co., Philadelphia. Source

Essays & criticism

Channels of Communication

Communication, technology & aesthetic experience

Read Channels of Communication

From the Oakfield Gazette

The Message to the Medium

Channels of Communication was conceived in the spirit of the old communications trade press, when the instruments, ambitions and occasional follies of an industry were subjects worthy of public examination. Its motto, The Message to the Medium, is both a reversal and a challenge.

An engraved hand pressing the buttons of a small device.
Hand pressing buttons. Printing specimen No. 4110, circa 1892. MacKellar, Smiths & Jordan Co., Philadelphia. Source

An interface makes assumptions about human behavior. A protocol determines who may participate. A commercial arrangement may decide whose words are heard and whose disappear. These decisions are seldom merely technical, and their consequences deserve more attention than the customary announcements of progress afford them.

Through this journal I wish to celebrate good engineering, question prevailing orthodoxies and hold the architects of our communications systems to account. Moreover, I wish to hold myself to account.

Authorship and collaboration

The emergence of artificial intelligence presents another collection of interesting problems. What becomes of authorship when a machine is no longer merely an instrument, but a collaborator? Can the exchange between human and artificial minds produce new forms of reflection, or even a kind of shared metacognition? Walter Benjamin’s questions concerning art in the age of mechanical reproduction acquire renewed significance when the machinery begins to participate in the creative act itself.

An interface makes assumptions about human behavior. A protocol determines who may participate.

It is my opinion that AI-generated doesn’t necessarily mean inauthentic, no more than typewriter-generated or quill-generated. These instruments have never been indifferent participants in the work. The typewriter imposes its own alphabet, arrangement and rhythm upon the writer; the quill and printing press impose different constraints. Each has altered the nature of expression and our understanding of authorship.

Artificial intelligence enlarges the nature and extent of this participation, but it does not invent it. The question is how these new instruments influence what we make, and how much of the creative act we choose to entrust to them. Collaborative work in concert with a skilled human writer can produce works of extraordinary authenticity. It really is up to the operator, not merely the technology.

This is not to say that instruments should escape examination. Their design, limitations and underlying assumptions are worthy subjects of criticism. But we ought to distinguish between a fault in the instrument, a fault in its operation and a fault in the work itself. The mere employment of a technology is not evidence against the resulting work.

Truly, every medium produces mostly slop. I remember in the early days we dreaded September, when incoming Stanford & Princeton freshmen would discover Usenet, then proceed to violate every established convention of netiquette. And in September of 1993 AOL began offering Usenet access to its subscribers which really opened the slopgates. From then on we said that September never ended, calling it Eternal September.

Essays as experiments

These are questions I hope to explore through essays and experiments with the publications themselves. The Poetics of J-Space, for example, considers presence, silence, and memory in digital environments while asking whether the structure of an essay might allow its reader to experience something of the argument it advances.

The medium, after all, ought to be allowed a reply.

Read in the Gazette: The Message to the Medium

Independent record label

HOMOPHONI

Electroacoustic improvisation & composition

Explore the HOMOPHONI catalog

From the Oakfield Gazette

From the record counter to a digital label

For nearly a decade, beginning in the late 1990s, I moonlighted at Disc-Go-Round Cumberland in Atlanta. It was one of the happiest periods of my life. I loved the place and I loved the people. The customers were there to relax so you saw folks at their best: tipsy on a lunch break, jazzed on a date, or red-eyed & tripping on a listening station. It was an agreeable arrangement. The other nice part was that you got to listen to music all day. I attempted to listen to a new album every hour for eight hours a day which was ear-opening. We had over ten thousand titles and they were weird titles, which attracted customers from all over town. Everyone from T-Pain to Deerhunter to Patti LaBelle shopped in our store. They came because of the owner Pete, who knew and knows more about music than anyone. So the best part about Disc-Go-Round was definitely Pete, and it was through Pete that I developed my taste for the obscure and my love of sharing music with others.

Bell’s modified microphone, with a listening tube connected to its labeled chamber.
Bell’s modified microphone, 1881. An archival illustration. Scientific American Supplement, No. 288, 1881. Source

A digital imprint

I had long entertained the idea of starting a record label though the expense of manufacturing and distributing physical records put the enterprise well beyond my means. By the early 2000s, however, something remarkable was happening. We were listening to more music discovered through Napster than we were pulling from the shelves. I remember being especially taken with Greg Davis publishing field recordings on his website, and later with CON-V, which demonstrated that an independent digital imprint could retain all the familiar dignity of a record label: album artwork, liner notes, catalog numbers, and carefully considered releases. The record could survive without the physical object.

HOMOPHONI emerged from this period of experimentation. What began as a modest experiment gradually became a catalog of work by musicians whose ideas, sensibilities, and peculiar approaches to sound I admired.

A catalog of unusual music

The music itself is not especially difficult to describe, though it can be difficult to classify: electroacoustic improvisation and composition, ranging from the wild and abrasive to the delicate, contemplative, and occasionally sublime. The catalog contains work by artists I have encountered, performed alongside, corresponded with, or simply held in considerable esteem. There has never been much of a commercial proposition behind it. I love albums, I love discovering unusual music, and I take great pleasure in helping other people discover it. These days the site is dormant but I never rule out hearing something I want to share.

In many respects, HOMOPHONI is simply a continuation of those happy years behind the record counter, except that now nobody needs to buy anything.

Read in the Gazette: From the record counter to a digital label

Tumblr collection

A Visual Archive

A collection of technological optimism

Browse the visual archive

HOMOPHONI is also the name of a rather different undertaking: a Tumblr I began in 2012, collecting images from old advertisements for computers, hi-fi equipment, magnetic recording apparatus, and other technological marvels. I have a particular affection for the idyllic worlds these advertisements depict, populated by attractive, cheerful people in immaculate surroundings, apparently enjoying perfect harmony with their machines. Removed from their original commercial context, the pictures become something rather stranger: little portraits of the futures we once imagined for ourselves.

Over the years the collection has grown to many hundreds of images, gathered from forgotten magazines, catalogs, and promotional literature. What interests me is not merely the machinery, though I am certainly fond of it, but the peculiar optimism with which it was presented. Here are technologies portrayed not as sources of anxiety or distraction, but as instruments of leisure, prosperity, sophistication, and domestic bliss. The advertisements tell us as much about the aspirations of their makers as they do about the products being sold.

To my considerable surprise, the pictures traveled. Dozens of posts accumulated more than ten thousand notes and reblogs apiece, and images from the collection began appearing in advertisements and even Netflix productions. HOMOPHONI became one small tributary in a much larger stream of visual culture, as countless people collected, circulated, and reinterpreted the commercial imagery of previous generations. Out of this bubbling stew emerged new aesthetic languages, including vaporwave, in which yesterday’s visions of tomorrow became the raw materials of contemporary art.

There is something wonderfully circular about this process. Images originally manufactured to sell technological progress are rediscovered decades later, stripped of their commercial purpose, and put to work expressing an entirely different set of cultural sensibilities. The advertisements have outlived the machines, the companies, and sometimes even the ideas of progress they were meant to represent.

At some point Cory Doctorow bestowed upon HOMOPHONI an imaginary lifetime achievement award on Twitter. I have since lost the citation and have no particular desire to return to the premises in search of it. Nevertheless, I remain very fond of the distinction.

The collection continues to serve as a modest museum of technological optimism, preserved in its most peculiar and frequently beautiful forms.

Working together

Questions about writing, publishing, or recordings?

Tell David what you’re working on, the help you need, and any relevant timing or constraints.