Part of my ongoing journey with slow practices is to explore not only how one can define Slow, whether in terms of pace or repetition or duration, but also the many ways that one can find to be Slow.
Since 2019, one of the ways I’ve found to be Slow is through the methods of Deep Listening developed by experimental musician and composer Pauline Oliveros. Her exercises and sonic meditations, done individually or in a group, open up space and time to concentrate, to focus, to pay attention–with intention, and to attune to one’s surroundings. This means listening with our ears and also with our bodies, where listening becomes a multisensory, fully embodied mode of engagement. Oliveros taught her students through the use of text-based scores—instructional prompts and creative writings that offer directives for listening.
Three years ago, I undertook a month-long daily practice of writing listening scores. I was experiencing a loss, and the daily attempts to communicate expansive, multisensory listening stories gave me an important focus. These September Scores: Invitations to Listen now exist as an art piece, an installation of prints and sound (take a listen!). I exhibited them for the first time in early 2023 when they were still fresh, and I am getting ready to exhibit them again soon. When I listen to the scores now with the distance of time, I notice elements of Slow in the speaker’s pace and cadence. But I am also reminded of the many avenues I sought out in these scores as ways to access Slow, through stitching fabric or folding paper, by writing a letter or walking a path.
An important part of Slow for me has involved collaboration, moving away from the single authorship prioritized by academia and instead investing time, attention, and relationship to thinking—and listening—together. It’s what we’re trying to do with this Slow Leadership collaboration, and it’s what Alison Mountz and her feminist geography colleagues promote in their co-written article, “For Slow Scholarship.” So it is through this lens that I think about a new book edited by Stephanie Loveless, A Year of Deep Listening, compiled in honor of what would have been Pauline Oliveros’ 90th birthday. The 365 scores in the book were contributed by dozens of artists, writers, and musicians; I’m thrilled that three of my scores are part of this volume. As I’ve spent time dipping in and out of the book these past months, what I find is that my fellow authors, too, are searching for many and varied ways to be Slow. We are all on this journey of Slow together—seeking, exploring, experimenting, collaborating, listening in as many ways as possible.
