stopGOstop: field recordings, sound collage, and sound art

Over the past month and a half, I’ve been working on an archive project—digging up and remastering radio work I was involved in from 2004–2006. I’ll be re-releasing select episodes as a part of this podcast. If you are interested, you can follow the progress of the archive here. The first release is Episode 10, one of the more straightforward early shows, where Richard, Philip, and I showed up at the station with bags of records and a computer, mixing around a theme for an hour. Blurb: Field recordings, weathered songs, and distant whale calls drift and collide, forming a sonic choir of ocean life, with sounds real, recorded, fabricated and imaginary. Performed by Richard Holland, Philip von Zweck and John Wanzel. Nautical Night  originally aired on August 8, 2004 live to air on WLUW 88.7 Chicago. Blind Spot (2004-2006): a weekly live experimental radio program exploring sound collage, performance, music, improvisation, and field recordings as a broadcast form.

Vim, Vigor and Vitality (or Arrangements Are in Hand or is it Self-Hypnosis) drifts between assertion and reassurance. A slow pulse moves underneath the piece, joined by the low, sustained presence of a cello. Voices surface in fragments, pause, and return, circling the British takeover of the Falkland Islands—not as a lesson in history, but as an echo that refuses to settle.

As the air cools, the water does not freeze all at once—it slows. Heat rises from the surface and meets the cold air above, creating a thin fog that drifts like breath. Small crystals begin to form in the moving water, collecting gradually. The sound thickens and settles, turning motion into stillness, one note at a time. Notes feel heavy and deliberate, low and steady, as they stretch and pull against themselves. Tension, then ease back, never rushing. Softly widening the space and letting the tones linger. And in the end, a drumline, to bring in the New Year. Thank you for listening.

Episode 205 of the stopGOstop podcast. Voices from day five of Apollo 11, moments of contemplation, and manipulated sounds. I attempted to upload this on the bus this morning, and the episode was corrupted. The data has been cleaned, and is now yours for the listening.

Last week we watched the 1983 made for tv movie The Day After. This weeks, a new piece consisting of sound collage, field recording and sonic composition.

Part four of a new composition.

A new composition of field recordings and a few notes. (part 3)

A new composition of field recordings and a few notes. (part 2)

A new composition of field recordings and a few notes.

A summertime groove for this holiday weekend, or as close to one as I can make.

A reflective flute, the slow moving, the low bass rattles, the echoes, repeating, the slow draw of a bow over a cello. A time of great potential.

Thinking back, talking a walk, and moving stones between pockets, stopGOstop is proud to present episode 197, Left to Right – Right to Left. One rock shifts to the left, one rock shifts to the right. Still I walk, still I move them, there’s been times… A multivoice monologue.

I woke up some years ago… and I ain’t sure I ever went back to sleep. Time got slippery. Lost its shape. Like water in your hands—no matter how tight you squeeze, it runs down the cracks, leaves you cold and wondering what you were trying to hold in the first place. Episode 196: Tending to. A monologue, a soundscape, a continuation of a story, and a story unrelated to anything. A dream, a conversation, a wind in the night.

Episode 195, To remember summer. Not the first summer on a calendar, but the first summer in feeling. The one that seemed to stretch on forever. The one that felt full of joy, play, and discovery. Maybe it was real. Maybe it’s just a mix of memories, TV shows, and time. The clatter and rush of a roller coaster, the soft conversation of the crowd, the sounds and thrill of being a kid again. The guitar drifts in and out, soft and slow, sometimes bright, sometimes hazy. The comfort of sunglasses. Glowing. No ending, no big moment. Just the warmth of the sun. The episode features a binaural field recording of Santa Monica Pier, recorded in 2018, and processed guitar.

It starts with just a few notes, a hum of a choir—soft, hesitant—and moves gently, the wind blowing in the distance, low, dark waves of sound roll through, like deep ocean currents under the surface. The calm is broken, light tapping, distant and unclear. Ocean waves roll in and out, soft and steady in the background, mixing with the low hum of a worn-out machine. Voices! The crowd erupts with joy! Neon buzzes faintly in the dark, footsteps, around the corner. stopGOstop is proud to present episode 194 of the podcast, From.

Lunar Orbiter 4 Image of the Moon, NASA We return to the story of Jonas and Kellen, now millions of miles apart, sending messages to each other. A team in the endless emptiness, patching together their space stations, and finding more than they expect. Changes, rewritten, modified. THE START OF EVERYTHING.

It starts with a spark. A small thing, barely there. Just a flicker of heat, of energy, but it’s enough. Enough to ignite the mix of air and fuel waiting in the chamber. Enough to turn that tiny explosion into movement. Moving, moving, always moving, progress has a price. stopGOstop presents The Ones That Pay, a monologue series delving into labor, industry, and history. A mechanic contemplates machines (Ep. 192), a bank teller follows the journey of money (Ep. 191), a bartender observes the night unfold (Ep. 190), a waitress moves through her routine (Ep. 189), and a driver drifts along endless highways (Ep. 188)—each navigating the rhythms of work, motion, and time.

The work moves through my hands, at the end of the day they are empty. Who leaves here feeling insecure, the push and pull of deposits and debts, paycheck by paycheck, the machine hums, a life behind glass, counting, always counting. stopGOstop present The Ones That Pay, a series of monologues exploring labor, industry, and history. A mechanic reflects on machines (ep. 192), a bank teller traces the life of money(ep. 191), a bartender watches the night unfold (ep 190), a waitress moves through routine(ep 189), and a driver drifts through highways (ep. 188)—each navigating the rhythms of work, motion, and time.

When your past is too painful, you do what you can to carry it without letting it drown you. A life behind the counter, a life full of listening to others. stopGOstop present The Ones That Pay, a series of monologues exploring labor, industry, and history. A mechanic reflects on machines (ep. 192), a bank teller traces the life of money(ep. 191), a bartender watches the night unfold (ep 190), a waitress moves through routine(ep 189), and a driver drifts through highways (ep. 188)—each navigating the rhythms of work, motion, and time.

You pour a cup of coffee, you hand it to them and then its there’s. The neon hums, the coffee drips, a women turns a sugar packet in her hands. On a piece of paper in a court house somewhere the world shifts. You can’t just ignore things forever, but isn’t that what we do. stopGOstop present The Ones That Pay, a series of monologues exploring labor, industry, and history. A mechanic reflects on machines (ep. 192), a bank teller traces the life of money(ep. 191), a bartender watches the night unfold (ep 190), a waitress moves through routine(ep 189), and a driver drifts through highways (ep. 188)—each navigating the rhythms of work, motion, and time.

A voice in the dark, a man on a drive, the static of the radio… a diner at the edge of a highway, a cup of coffee. Driving, driving, always driving. When the moment becomes just another memory. The road hums. stopGOstop present The Ones That Pay, a series of monologues exploring labor, industry, and history. A mechanic reflects on machines (ep. 192), a bank teller traces the life of money(ep. 191), a bartender watches the night unfold (ep 190), a waitress moves through routine(ep 189), and a driver drifts through highways (ep. 188)—each navigating the rhythms of work, motion, and time.

Tonight’s tale begins in the quiet hum of a clockmaker’s shop. A place where broken gears and forgotten hours find their second chance. But as you’ll soon discover, not all clocks are made to tell time. Some are built to trap it, twist it, or—if you’re not careful—bring it to a stop altogether. So, take a deep breath and listen closely. The gears are turning, and the seconds are slipping away. Welcome to episode 187 of the stopGOstop podcast: “A Thousand Promises.”

And then, there was the light. The fleeting, fragile light. A flicker at the edge of a memory, a dying sun at the end of a long shift. Ah, yes, the light—so stubborn, so fleeting, and yet it lingers in the cracks, doesn’t it? It reminds us that even in the moments we feel most lost, there’s a glow waiting for us. Not to save us, no—salvation is a luxury for another story—but to guide us. Just far enough to see what lies ahead and no farther. This week on the podcast, a conversation on a bus that leads into the flickering edge. The stopGOstop podcast is produced by John Wanzel.

Lunar Orbiter 4 Image of the Moon, NASA beyond the known, beyond the realms of Earth and its tethered horizons, maybe even beyond your comfort zone, to the silent reaches of the cosmos, stopGOstop is proud to present YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE END OF THE ROAD. This is a story of two brothers, twins, bound by more than blood and who have chosen to be divided by the vastness of the galaxy—a tale of explorers, like of old. A tale of dreamers being sent out into the night without the security of home, without knowing if they would ever return. and with this journey and the weight of human fragility squarely on their shoulders. Kellan and Jonas, they are builders of light, architects of hope, sent to opposite ends of creation to build and maintain space ports to anchor humanity’s presence in the darkest of voids. Hey now hey now, don’t dream its over.

I have been sitting here, longer than I can say.It started as just a pause to my day, but slowly, I stayed seated.the bugs at my window seem to be trying to reach the jade plants just inside.as I try to breathe the air.just outside. the light changes, my eyes adjust.the winds shift.I can see it in the trees.maybe tomorrow I will stand on the deck, but today.today I will watch the sun awake from here.an interlude.

The sixth and final episode of the Immeasurable limited series. History, nature, thoughts, stories: What does it mean to be human if not to make choices? What will you choose to see? To hear? Are you focused on the clouds? The trees? The things that pass quickly, or the things that last? Immeasurable is a loosely connected series of episodes that weaves together eclectic narratives—ranging from a subjective history of buses to a serene listing of trees found in Chicago and even the curious banter of Zoom calls. Each episode is an amalgamation of stories, ideas, and voices, creating a tapestry that can be experienced in order or shuffled for a new perspective each time. Written and produced by John Wanzel, Immeasurable is brought to life by the newest Automata, a state-of-the-art text-to-voice generator.

Okay, on this episode. In this episode, we are going to talk about investments. Investments in time, space, always time and space, but also things like earth and water. And don’t forget about investments in things and things. And, of course, liquidity markets. Or is it market liquidity? Or is it, I don’t know. yes. Episode 183 of the stopGOstop podcast and the fifth episode in the Immeasurable podcast mini-series. Immeasurable is a loosely connected series of episodes that weaves together eclectic narratives—ranging from a subjective history of buses to a serene listing of trees found in Chicago and even the curious banter of Zoom calls. Each episode is an amalgamation of stories, ideas, and voices, creating a tapestry that can be experienced in order or shuffled for a new perspective each time. Written and produced by John Wanzel, Immeasurable is brought to life by the newest Automata, a state-of-the-art text-to-voice generator.

Episode 182. This is the fourth episode in the Immeasurable mini-series. Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally Immeasurable is a loosely connected series of episodes that weaves together eclectic narratives—ranging from a subjective history of buses to a serene listing of trees found in Chicago and even the curious banter of Zoom calls. Each episode is an amalgamation of stories, ideas, and voices, creating a tapestry that can be experienced in order or shuffled for a new perspective each time. Written and produced by John Wanzel, Immeasurable is brought to life by the newest Automata, a state-of-the-art text-to-voice generator.

Episode 181, Growth, is an experimental fiction featuring the history of the bus, the art of Gilles Aillaud, the influences of walking with Charles Dickens, and much, much more! This is the third episode in the Immeasurable podcast mini-series. Immeasurable is a loosely connected series of episodes that weaves together eclectic narratives—ranging from a subjective history of buses to a serene listing of trees found in Chicago and even the curious banter of Zoom calls. Each episode is an amalgamation of stories, ideas, and voices, creating a tapestry that can be experienced in order or shuffled for a new perspective each time. Written and produced by John Wanzel, Immeasurable is brought to life by the newest Automata, a state-of-the-art text-to-voice generator.

Benefits: Dear future humans; for many, this isn’t the plan; tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow; episode 180. Benefits is the second episode in the Immeasurable podcast mini-series. Immeasurable is a loosely connected series of episodes that weaves together eclectic narratives—ranging from a subjective history of buses to a serene listing of trees found in Chicago and even the curious banter of Zoom calls. Each episode is an amalgamation of stories, ideas, and voices, creating a tapestry that can be experienced in order or shuffled for a new perspective each time. Written and produced by John Wanzel, Immeasurable is brought to life by the newest Automata, a state-of-the-art text-to-voice generator.

Conversations and interactions while waiting for the bus, talking to a colleague on Zoom, chatting with a stranger at the bar, and with the voices in the dark. A narrative in parts, made whole. stopGOstop is proud to present episode 179, Exchange. Exchange is the first episode in the Immeasurable podcast mini-series. Immeasurable is a loosely connected series of episodes that weaves together eclectic narratives—ranging from a subjective history of buses to a serene listing of trees found in Chicago and even the curious banter of Zoom calls. Each episode is an amalgamation of stories, ideas, and voices, creating a tapestry that can be experienced in order or shuffled for a new perspective each time. Written and produced by John Wanzel, Immeasurable is brought to life by the newest Automata, a state-of-the-art text-to-voice generator.

stopGOstop is proud to present episode 178: 2° F winds out of the west, a new composition for cello, piano, percussion and recording. (Some might have gotten a re-podcast of episode 171 on 1/24, a clerical error, please enjoy)

Concrete blocks, a bit of feedback, a slow melody, erosion, moving, turning to a beat to move forward, sitting and thinking about the future. A recycling of some of the sonic elements from 103 of the podcast, Unknown Movement Underground, originally uploaded in July of 2018. Sine waves rearranged for sample instruments, field recordings are replaced by a drum machine.

Looking at the bark of a tree– nothing seems to be moving, the tree is moving slower than I can see, I listen for its sound, I hear episode 176, a new composition for a small ensemble and binaural field recording of traffic.

The water flows north this morning. The sun, it seems to be moving slower over the lake, gaining altitude, finding its way through the clouds. The birds, mostly geese, sparrows, and pigeons today… I wonder if they see what I see. Do they marvel at the sun, the clouds, and the reflective light on the lake? Their brains are made of the same gray stuff as mine; why wouldn’t their mind be able to remember what they ate yesterday, remember the nice bird feeder, the couple that stared at them through the window? Maybe they get bored with the games we use to try and measure their intellect and see no use in them. They go and dream of bird art and bird poetry instead of taking the bird S.A.T. Either way, the morning is beautiful. We judge our past, to or at a distance, at what our ancestors too often turned a blind eye to, so too, future concepts in weather will not recover what we already have done; truth be told, if we were serious about climate change we would ban jet aircraft, by that I mean, truth is always easier looking towards the past or future, but not towards the now. Either way, the morning is beautiful. stopGOstop is proud to present episode 175, Song of Water, Sparrows, and Light, a new piece for manipulated sine waves and sample library orchestra.

Looking inward — the waves moving, the mind murmurs in melody, this morning there was a glimmer, then at noon a glow; as I move, I hear episode 173, a new composition for a small ensemble.

So, yeah. I had a dream last night that I was composing a new piece for episode 171 of the stopGOstop podcast. This is unusual for me; my dream life is, well, limited. My nightly walks through my subconscious mind are, kind of boring.

A wandering conversation of swirling chaos, or just too much to understand, too far away from how things are thought of today. A swirling thought, does this interfere with my life today? Does it change how I change my clothes? How do I treat those I know or will ever meet?

Three wandering monologues about snow, the day of the week, and more and more and more. Featuring computer voices, artificially enhanced writing, a binaural recording of a drum line, and computer-controlled instruments.

When you think about where you live, what do you see in your head? When you talk to yourself on a spaceship, too far away to communicate, what do you talk about?

stopGOstop and Idaho Street Workshop are proud to present: Christmas has been ruined… or something like that. A semi-narrative story about beepers, the before, and the thin film between life and work. Featuring marimbas, a pipe organ, a field recording, and much much more.

Looking out towards the horizon– the waves moving, the wind murmurs in melody, this morning there was a glimmer, then at noon a purple glow, as I look out now, I hear episode 166, a new composition for a small ensemble.

A field recording of Lake Michigan, interweaving chromatic scales, and arpeggios, episode 165 of the podcast features a new composition for a small ensemble (or rather a computer pretending to be a small ensemble). The piece was partly inspired by several bike rides I took this weekend, from Evanston to a nature preserve near South Shore Cultural Center(Chicago). The weather was near perfect for bike riding, 70 degrees, with a slight wind. But the waves were rough, tossing and turning from every direction. The piece takes its first note, middle C, from the book I finished this weekend, Orfeo, by Richard Powers. The title also appears in the novel, as the lyrics for an experimental piece Peter Els, the composer/DIY microbiologist in the novel, sees at a coffee house. He identifies it as Reich. Wittgenstein. Proverb. To paraphrase Els from later in the novel, I will never have anything to break; everything is already broken and glued back together in a mosaic of pretty bits…

stopGOstop and Idaho Street Workshop are proud to present: Thunderstruck, or how I stopped listening and learned to love the end of the world. Featuring field recordings as well as reflections about the weather, high fidelity recordings, war, and much much more.

A new sound collage featuring rotary dial telephones, counting, Sadie Hawkins, Charles Darwin, and much much more!

A new composition (I will/might update the description in a couple of weeks, but in short, sometimes a conversation can make circles and birds more interesting than before).

A new composition for watching the snow melt, or watching the ice float on the Lake, or to calm the mind as it awaits the future. Always remember, composer Milton Feldman worked at his family’s business (manufacturing children’s coats) until he was forty-four, so work tomorrow isn’t going to be that bad. This piece is the second in a series of works inspired by walking/biking around Evanston, IL; featuring computerized Tuba, Contrabass, Timpani, and a number of other semi-symphonic and sinewave instruments.

Lime Disease, Concussions, the Anthropocene and Sunn O))), with a number of synthesizers. A new sound collage about the brain, body, and environment.