I want to work on silence. And absence. And nothing. The lack of. Just space. And air. That moment when the last note has rung, the last line has been delivered, the last movement has been executed. Just before the audience breaks out in applause or boos. That moment of anticipation. Of holding your breath. Your senses, exalted and wired. All ears. That moment. Exactly that moment.

What do we hear when there’s nothing to listen to?
What do we listen to when there’s nothing to hear?

I do know that silence does not exist. Or that, if it does, it cannot be recorded. Or that, if it could be, it cannot be played back, or heard or re-experienced in the same way.

Even deaf, you never hear nothing. There is always something.

I don’t see silence as the lack of sound. The absence of. But as the space between sounds. The space in between sound. The breath between notes. The movement between strings. The distance between keys. And the time it takes, quite simply, to get from one to the next.

Nevertheless I want to go look for silence. To record it. And fail. And try again. And fail again. And try better. And fail better. The intensity of failure. The intention. Of failure. And what it will make me find instead.

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