in memoriam
steve roden (1964-2023)
I am lucky enough to have been able to call Steve Roden my friend since 1998. I reached out to him after hearing his self-released 3” CD series created purely with the sounds made with modernist designs by Eames and Nelson (and later Bertoia). So much rivetting sound coaxed from singular objects, “non-musical” objects.
I shared my work with him and found we had a mutual interest in quiet small sounds and mid 20th century design. After that, we began to have frequent and long phone conversations. Steve was friendly, funny, and possessed a wealth of information on art, design, music, culture, vintage kids’ food packaging . Always fascinating and always with a smile. You could feel his smile even on the phone.
Every visit to LA meant seeing Steve… He and his wife Sari were two of the reasons my husband and I later moved to Los Angeles. We knew we would have great friends to greet us.
Steve was a brilliant sound artist, visual artist, sculptor, installation artist. But beyond that he was one of the most honest, sincere, and kind people I have known. The scope of his work is astounding. He loved to create, it brought him joy. The complexities of his work are beguiling. He was always creating, always making, and always playing.
His work has touched so many.
His influence significant in so any ways.
Without Steve there may not have been my label LINE.
Would anyone have coined the term ‘lowercase’, if not Steve? He was very supportive of LINE and I feel honored to have been able to publish his works.
I still ask myself, “what would Steve think of this” when listening to works for LINE.
The final years of his life he succumbed to Alzheimer’s which took him from us far too soon. It is a disease that kills slowly and painfully. This allowed me some space to grieve but did not prepare me for the shock of his passing.
One of the last times I saw Steve was before the pandemic, as my husband and I had lunch at Steve and Sari’s house. A final memory of him is watching him at his front door smiling and waving goodbye.
One of my biggest regrets is that Steve and I never collaborated on an album together. We had planned on it, talked about it. And now we never will.
As I think of Steve and listen to his work today, as always, I think of kindness and joy.
The joy of listening, the joy he had creating these works, and the kindness and humility with which he presented them to the world. Small sonic experiences of great power. His simple suggestion to all: “listen…”
Many condolences to Sari, and the rest of his family, and also to those who’s eyes and ears were drawn to his infinitely fascinating world.
I will miss him dearly.
Richard Chartier
EXPLORE+LISTEN:
www.inbetweennoise.com
steveroden.bandcamp.com/music
