Liquid music vs liquid rhythm full#

To my ear, the sounds of the softest techniques convey a hyperreal intimacy, vulnerability and ephemerality, as they are usually rich with evidence of the delicate human action it took to produce them.

Liquid music vs liquid rhythm full#

When I was presented with this opportunity to create new work for a full orchestra, one of the things that excited me most was the chance to explore the very quietest end of the sonic spectrum. Is the state of dreaming always tranquil, or are dreams volatile, like waking life? Harmonies unravel, flex, ripple and relax like their visualized counterparts. Through careful tuning and timbral changes, I tried to let the musical sonorities melt like the sheets on screen. Using instruments built from orchestral sound sources (often quiet actions intensely magnified), I set about searching for what I had imagined. “During my first viewing of the visuals for On Blue, I heard music in the gestures I saw on screen. In an instant, we are newborns with no ties to anything.” Even the word 'blue' has lost its meaning. Dream and reality coexist, memories and conditionings fade.

The color blue was giving way to the morning gold. When first light reaches the eyes, there is a profound sense of clarity. An old cinema set was reanimated for the last performance. Perhaps our brains are hurriedly retreating their fragmented scenes, storing them in the shadows before consciousness emerges. Revisiting Blue was like re-observing and rearranging a dream before dawn. It's predictable yet brings tremendous change. As uncertainty becomes the norm, I treasure this phenomenon's consistency.

On Blue was inspired by the moments of awakening, of sunrise. “I reflect on the past years as we appear to have slept through the pandemic.