Hans Wollschläger, best known for translating Ulysses, but also Raymond Chandler, died this week, I see from the local rag. Wikipedia has him in German and English.

In connection with the G8 conference at Heiligendamm, the media have turned to the ever-fascinating topic of What is an interpreter?

The Süddeutsche Zeitung magazin today has a long article on the topic, fortunately available online.

And the German political TV channel Phoenix repeats a 30-minute film on interpreters called Die Flüsterer, both tonight at 21.45 and tomorrow at 18.45. This is well worth watching.

Both the film and the article comment on how odd it is that interpreters (at conferences like this) are treated as if they did not have an existence of their own.

Dolmetscher werden als Augenpaar im Raum nicht mitgerechnet und als reine Durchgangsstation der Wörter angesehen. »Wir sind das Schmieröl, das den Motor am Laufen hält«, sagte ein EU-Dolmetscher in einem Zeitungsinterview einmal; von dem langjährigen Russisch-Dolmetscher der US-Regierung Bill Hopkins stammt die Aussage: »Ich bin eine Leitung, sonst nichts.« Diese technischen Vergleiche haben ihren Grund. Denn Dolmetscher nehmen in den Gesprächen, die sie übersetzen, nicht die Position eines beteiligten Subjekts ein, sondern eher die eines reibungslos funktionierenden Mediums.

LATER NOTE: On the Übersetzerportal, Richard Schneider points out that there is a longer version available on DVD. In fact, I think this longer version was on TV two years ago – it included a trip to Africa.

You’re not really supposed to record or photograph in concert halls, but for seven years Christopher DeLaurenti recorded the sounds of people coughing and musicians warming up before and during concerts. He used a MiniDisc recorder and went forward to be closer to the orchestra warming up. You can buy the CD, or listen to three excerpts at the New York Times.

For Mr. DeLaurenti, 39, a Seattle-based “sound artist” and composer, the noises were art. Now, out of more than 50 hours of recording, he has compiled a CD of greatest hits. It is called “Favorite Intermissions: Music Before and Between Beethoven, Stravinsky, Holst,” the latest entry in humankind’s search for art in unexpected nooks.

It recalls my earlier entry:

The recording falls firmly in the conceptual tradition championed by John Cage, who turned randomness into a compositional tool. Witness his “Imaginary Landscape No. 4” for 12 radios, or “4’33,” ” in which a pianist sits silently at the keyboard for 4 minutes 33 seconds and ambient sounds become the performance.

(Via Boing Boing)