the gradations of light
from sound to silence
“nocturnal” as a day release
as a necessary breath
between two sounds
in that moment of listening
which is possible
where the useless dissolves
r. d.
“writing about music is like dancing about architecture” - this saying has been around since
decades. we debated a lot about who first mentioned that: wasn’t it elvis costello? or thelonious
monk? laurie anderson maybe? or rather was it frank zappa in an old interview?
this matters little, I believe: whoever said that wished to emphasize the uselessness of translating
into words the musician’s work. I’m convinced he was going after some music press being more
and more focused on advertisers, whereas reporters and critics were unable to listen carefully to
the music.
this saying returned to my mind when listening roberto dani’s new work “nocturne”. an atypical
percussionist who dwells on silence and sound fragments rather than large blows and impact,
roberto resembles an expert mountaneering guide leading you on a hike: he teaches to appreciate
the imperceptible sound of heartbeats and breathing, and the thin noises of wind, steps, stones
and grass.
creating sound on sound as if he were laying stones on stones, gesture after gesture roberto
builds a cathedral of silence, embedding whispers and other almost unnoticeable noise with the
rubbing of his fingers. he moves around his astonishing sound sculptures as if dancing in the
dark.
marco pandin