Popular Culture Review Vol. 15, No. 2 | Page 59

Melted Honey; Sax and Sex 55 their hearing transparently. Hearing hears right through itself, being preoccupied instead with what is heard, not with the project of hearing itself.^® Hearing, which must be deaf to itself if we are to hear habitually at all, leaves the site of the body to dwell in noise, and then brings that noise back to the hearer. Hearing necessitates a journey outbound from the body and into noise, from which it returns with its noisy treasures. But hearing is not alone in its project; touch is very heavily implicated in the way that players’ hearing extends itself beyond itself Touch cannot be separated from the hearing sense, because it is touching the instrument body that produces sound. Hands, fingers, mouths, and tongues that reach out to touch instruments during rehearsals are highly surveilled in the rehearsal moment, as each touch (a touch too light, a tongue flicking too hard) is monitored for its technical correctness, creating a divide between what is self and what is not. During performance experiences, bodies are, as Serres suggests, not experienced as subject organs or flesh parts that exist in distinctive separation from objects. Asking, ‘Svhat is a hand,” Serres answers himself, “It is not an organ, it is a faculty, a capacity for doing, for becoming a claw, or paw, weapon or compendium. It is a naked faculty. A faculty is not special, it is never specific, it is the possibility of doing something in general. . . our hands are that nakedness I find in gymnastics, that pure faculty, cleared up by exercise, by the asceticism of undifferentiating.”^^ Similarly, a band member’s hand or tongue or finger no longer exists as a hand or tongue or finger when it habitually takes hold of instrument, nor is the instrument simply an instrument. Serres continues, “The hand is no longer a hand when it has taken hold of the hammer, it is the hammer itself, it is no longer a hammer, it flies transparent, between the hammer and the nail, it disappears and dissolves, my own hand has long since taken flight in writing. The hand and thought, like one’s tongue, disappear in their determinations.”^^ During performances, the body similarly becomes sax, trumpet, trombone; the body becomes wholly instrumentalised. At the same performance moment in which hearing-sense occurs, touch-sense reaches out to dwell in that which is simultaneously touched and heard: the body of the instrument. As a sax man becomes “saxophonised” through extending his touch down through the instrument by wholly ignoring the point at which he and sax meet, the sax sounds produced through touch entice his hearing out of his body, and touch and hearing take flight together. While touch and hearing senses merge together to allow players to escape the sites of their own bodies, vision is conspicuously absent from the sensuous knot that characterises performance. Players are left metaphorically