F R A M E W O R K S
© Gary Bryson
1995
F R A M E W O R K S
PLAY TAPE: STEVE CUT 1
IN: This is the sound you don’t want to hear...
FX: Glass glissando,
FX: Wood splintering, creaking, cracking
(fades to glass cacophony mix. Hold under)
NARRATOR: Let me try to explain this.
VOICE: (deep in mix) Listeners are advised that all programmes are composed of
aural compo....
FX: Glass crash reverb
ROBYN:And breaking into the frame of the program, FrameWorks, an exploration
of frames and framing. Frames of reference, frames of mind, time-frames,
picture-frames and the frames around spectacles. Frames personal and public,
rococo and baroque. Frames given and received, carved and pastiglio, gilded or
graffitoed. The symbolic frameworks by which meaning is created and distorted,
by which change is managed and contained.
FX: Wood splinters, creaks
ROBYN: Listeners are advised that this programme is composed entirely of aural
compo, a highly malleable material which can be worked when warm to accurately
recreate the lines and ornamental features of any desired original. At the time of
listening, a gesso composed of chalk and rabbit skin glue has been applied, and the
gilding process has begun.
FX: Burnishing
FrameWorks was designed and constructed by dum de dum de, and features the
voices of dah dah dah and dah dah dah...
(Tape speed varies, Robyn’s voiceslows to stop)
FX: Static
FX: Classic FM apology tape (interrupted by)
ANNOUNCER: FrameWorks! Six pieces for radio on the margins of visibility!
Part four, Border Incident!
FX: Desert Wind (Hold under)
NARRATOR:Let me try to explain this.
You paused in the doorway for just a moment. The sunlight picked at your hair and
shoulder, the side of your face, the grain of your skin. Behind you, dappled
brushstrokes, greens and yellows, terracotta. A cat, basking on the wall.
The rectangular precision of the doorway. Holding the moment.
You hesitated, swaying between two worlds. I saw a strength in your eyes that
surprised me. And then the door slammed and you were gone.
Wait. Run that back a moment.
(desert wind reverses)
The doorway shudders, the door opens quickly inwards, your arm follows, you turn
towards me. Your hand reaches in to grasp the handle as the door swings gently to
a stop.
(desert wind stops)
Freeze frame.
The cat has made herself scarce, as cats will. A cat will not be possessed. But there
you are, framed by the doorway. That look in your eyes. No tears. I look carefully
but I can no longer see myself reflected.
Listen. You have no choice.
FX: Static
ANNOUNCER:Frame-Works. Six pieces for radio on the margins of visibility.
Paragraph 18, Section B2. An Act of Enclosure
FX: Frame-making atmos
PLAY TAPE: STEVE CUT 2
IN: There are two sorts of frames...
OUT: ...distress, antique them (fade).
(Hold frame-making atmos under)
NARRATOR: There are things which puzzle me. The different you before being
framed by that final doorway. The different me. The other frames around our life that
now lie empty, stacked in dusty piles, broken. Our memories are poisoned by the
present.
PLAY TAPE: STEVE CUT 3
IN: Measure up...
OUT: ...that’s the guillotine (fades).
DUR: 33”
FX: Guillotine
NARRATOR: Let me try to explain this.
FX: Clockwork (hold under)
NARRATOR: What I wanted was nothing more or less than the harmonious
conjoining of raw edges. Mitred right angles and hard nails. Burnished gold leaf
over flat gesso. The bounded world, defined, ordered, under control. You can
breathe in there, you can sit back and drift off. Easy.
Beyond that, things to avoid; the periphery, the margins, the things you can’t see,
the dark, difficult things that make no sense. Things that fly off unrestrained.
Disconnections that make you laugh, make you wonder, make you hurt.
You see? The doorway matters.
(clockwork rhythm fluctuates)
A frame, I said once, quoting someone, is “A dry quadrilateral plunging into the
hazard’s of nature’s diffuseness”. You liked that. Nature’s diffuseness. Messing
about in the garden, half-finished renovations. Leaving the top off the toothpaste
tube.
Let’s plunge in together, you said. We’re both in this.
(clockwork rhythm speeds up)
But we’re not. We’re in different pictures. I’m framing you and you’re framing me.
We fear the madness that lies in unframed moments.
FX: Mitre saw
ANNOUNCER: Frame-Works. Six pieces for radio on the margins of visibility. Act 3,
Scene 1. Beyond The Square
FX: Stapler rhythm
FX: Frame-making atmos
PLAY TAPE: STEVE CUT 4
IN: The v-nailer shoots...
OUT: ...cutting and joining of a frame. DUR: 1’.07”
FX: Bass rhythm/voice sustain (hold under)
NARRATOR: We frame our thoughts. Frames of mind, habits of thought.
What are you thinking, standing in the doorway? That look in your eyes. There’s time
to reconsider. Are you reconsidering? Changing your mind? Seeing things in a
different light? Thinking beyond the square? Go on, rescue us both from the oblivion
of the doorway.
But no, you’re thinking about the cat. What feline quality allows her to escape your
fate? The claws of instinct. Sinew, muscle, nerves, fur. Ears, eyes, nose, tail. The cat
is her own frame. She can’t be framed, she can’t frame others. She doesn’t need to
think laterally, she is already and always beyond the square. One step ahead.
FX: Glass crash reverb
We think we’re special, but our minds are just bits and bytes, a practical joke. The
last thing an animal needs is self-awareness. Hemmed in four-square by frames custom-built and off-the-shelf, handed down through generations. Awarded, earned,
stolen, disguised as something else. The frame as fashion statement. We watch
ourselves being watched. We’d all be better off as cats. That’s what I think.
What are you thinking about, now?
It doesn’t matter. Thinking gets us into all kinds of trouble. I think of you, you think
of me, I think of you thinking of me, we spiral down together into a neat rectangle
that contains roses, tickets to the theatre, offers of marriage.
But you’re not thinking that at all.
FX: Bass rhythm/voice sustain
(collapses into rumble) (hold under)
PLAY TAPE: COLLECTED VOICES MIX
NARRATOR: I can’t hear myself think!
(silent pause)
Are you still listening?
FX: Tinkle bells
The colours are beginning to change around you, and your hair looks longer than I remember. Let’s try another approach.
ANNOUNCER: Frame-Works. Six pieces for radio on the margins of visibility. Scene
5, take 32. The Field of Looks.
FX: Tinkle-Bell interlude
FX: Art Gallery atmos (hold under)
NARRATOR: A rare visit to the art gallery. We’d been arguing about some piece of
abstract frippery. You can’t frame an abstraction, you said. You can’t put an outside
around an inside that doesn’t have an outside. You can’t enclose the future.
(gallery atmos up - cross-fade to)
FX: Clucking clock rhythm (hold under)
You were wearing your spectacles. The ones you never wear because you don’t want
anyone to know you wear spectacles. The tortoiseshell oberlins that make you look
oh so smart.
I said I thought the frames were more interesting than the pictures. You laughed,
and our eyes met, the fire in yours magnified, my crooked smile reflecting back.
Take off your glasses, I said. Rub your eyes a little. Stop thinking, start looking.
Stop looking, you said. Start seeing.
A theory of vision, framed by spectacles. Corbusier frames, horn rims, tortoise shell. Lognettes and aviator glasses meet carnivale, fiesta, mardi-gras. Love, death and
crucifixion.
FX: Party whistle
(art gallery atmos out)
In The Metropolitan Museum in New York, they have the largest collection of picture
frames in the world. They hang them on the wall, just the frames. Empty.
FX: Frame-making atmos (hold under)
Windows of sober walnut, gilded oak. Baroque mouldings, laurel leaves, flannel
flowers. Scallops, flowering vines, delicate filigrees and wild rococo statements.
PLAY TAPE: STEVE CUT 5
IN: There are two forms of gilding...
OUT: ...they really are chalk and cheese.
DUR: 1.23
NARRATOR: Time does not have wings.
(Frame-making atmos stops)
ANNOUNCER: (subdued) Frame-Works. Six pieces for radio on the margins of
visibility. Volume 3. The Fifth Edge.
FX: Glass drifting interlude (hold under)
NARRATOR: (distant, dreamy) You paused in the doorway for just a moment.
(I stopped in the doorway.)
You hesitated, swaying between two worlds. (I waited for you to speak).
PLAY TAPE: STEVE CUT 5
IN: You put a good frame...
OUT: ...pretty bloody good actually.
DUR: 19”
NARRATOR: Time does not have wings. It crawls across dusty surfaces. It hides in
the dark. It feeds on fear. We tame it with watches and calendars and endless
clockwork trickery. Bells and bundy clocks, fitness and face-lifts.
You look different now, standing in your frame. More relaxed. I can’t be sure. The
light has lost its sharpness, it falls softly on your hair, your face, your skin. Softly,
poised between light and shade, you cast your glance. Softly, I receive it, an arc of transmission, a measure of meaning.
But it’s too late. In your gaze, I'm forever framed by this doorway. A permanently
startled look. Unkempt hair. A sarcastic goodbye wave. This, is how you will
remember me.
I hear your car driving off. I open the door. The cat appears, purring.
(Glass drifting interlude cross-fades to)
FX: Glass cacophony up and out
FX: Person leaving studio and shutting door