1 / 34
The physicality of sound, harmony, and rhythm has always been central to my musical thinking. Certain harmonies, for instance, seem to invite my body to open and expand, while others fold it inward. The initial impetus for this piece was to explore that connection between the human body and sound in a direct, embodied way.
At the center of the stage sits a solitary performer who never touches an instrument, but instead enacts a series of choreographed gestures in contrapuntal relationship to the surrounding music.
The piece begins as a play between alignment and misalignment: as the music rises, the body falls—until the two finally arrive in synchrony. As the piece unfolds, the performer’s attention turns outward. They fixate on something — imagined or real — and attempt to reach for it. They approach it with curiosity, affection, and eventually the desire to possess and control.
At times, the performer appears to control the music; at others, the music clearly disrupts or redirects their actions. Sometimes the music seems to conjure an external world the performer is perceiving; at other times, it feels like the sonic manifestation of their inner life. This shifting relationship reflects an ongoing tension: how do we, as individuals, perceive and interact with what lies beyond our control — whether in the world around us or within ourselves? Are we responding to reality, or projecting it? Are our actions truly our own, or is the inner world we take to be the source of our volition in fact an external force — a kind of parasite just outside our field of vision, pulling the strings?