Two things in the world seem to be only once
Biennale College Musica
Wyldie Bracewell
Two things in the world seem to be only once is a labyrinth. Combining sounds from Venice and Vancouver, it weaves together a detailed world of insides and outsides, publics and privates. It is host to many things: found recordings, field recordings, an accordion, the sound of walking in two cities, the sound of holes and drainpipes and many more things. A labyrinth is not a maze but a single pathway guiding you toward a centre, circuitously. Inside a labyrinth, everything is repeated many times (and Two things in the world seem to be only once is a labyrinth, a detailed world of insides and outsides, privates and publics. This labyrinth is host to many things, including recordings from Venice’s Labirinto Borges – dedicated to a writer of labyrinths, Jorge Luis Borges – found recordings, field recordings and many more things. A labyrinth, like Venice, is a pathway pulling you toward a centre, or multiple centres, circuitously. Once inside a labyrinth, everything is repeated many times ((and Two things in the world seem to be only once is a labyrinth. This labyrinth is home to many things, including something monstrous. A labyrinth is not a maze, but a single pathway pulling you toward nothing, infinitely. Here, everything is repeated many times (((“but two things in the world seem to be only once” lamented the minotaur, Asterion, housed within Borges’s labyrinth: “above, the intricate sun; below, Asterion”))).