The word Eyjafjallajokull is a sound word. About half a year ago, it was present in the media for a long time, as the name for the volcano in Iceland. However, the name of the volcano was mostly avoided or pronounced with difficulty. For me, it was clear: this is the word for the unpronounceable.
The way the organ produces sound is, per se, fascinating. The huge pipes, the hammers, the wind machine. In a time when you can produce everything on a small laptop on the go, I was impressed by the huge mechanical instrument with its incredibly elaborate construction. Unthinkable in our times, when one is supposed to be as economical and efficient as possible. And yet, the organ sounds like no other instrument, whether acoustic or electronic, with or without electricity.
The focus of the musical work was the rhythm, or rather the pulse. I call it a "quasi-regular pulse": a pulse that is constantly shifted by noise. In many parts of the piece, I concentrated only on this element. Everything is reduced. Not many notes, long standing tenuto sounds as a contrast to the rhythmic layers, mechanical noises. The precision with which the score has been notated out with tiny rhythmic units serves as a means to create a constant tension. An organic tension in which uncertainty plays a role.
Excerpt of a live recording from Deutschlandfunks at the Kunst-Station Sankt Peter, Cologne | Organ: Dominik Susteck