Our Art

I’ve come to a point where I’m realizing that it has always been „art“ that is important to me. Not „my art“ or „other people’s art“, and not even art as a field. But simply the experience of art and what it does for us: that it creates an experience for our senses, that it pulls us into presence, that it makes us become aware of our consciousness, our aliveness. Hence my deep intuition that studying, creating, pondering and teaching art are all sides of the same multidimensional coin that is my life.

I sometimes get asked why I’m not releasing more work – after all I have the processes to generate a lot in a short time. But there is no rush to release as much new work as possible when so much great art is being created. Spotting the greatness in another person’s work can be just as valuable. Reflecting it back to them can be one of the greatest gifts. And letting those works and insights infuse our teaching will spread it to even more people.

Just like composing, to teach is to create an experience for others. Teaching my thinking and skills is composing-by-proxy, in the sense that others now carry my ideas with them, enhancing them with their own unique perspective, spreading them further than I alone could have. Generative composition.

In so many ways, „my art“ exists independently of me, and of whether I have created it – if I’m not having to take credit for it. Generosity.

That way, other people can create „my art“ as well. Your art is my art. But even my art is not truly mine. There just is art, and it awakens us to presence, to life.

That is all, and it is everything.

Biel, Switzerland, April 21, 2022

Sound Walks: On listening and shared silence

This week I had the opportunity to go on a sound walk with nineteen 16-18-year-old students as part of a weekly class I’m doing for Tönstör over the course of five weeks. It took us just a minute or two to find silence, and then the group moved for 15-20 minutes in full concentration. Students experienced a number of things – here are just a few thoughts we discussed afterwards:

1) The sonic richness and depth that is available if we just listen, be it natural or cultural in origin, be it accidental or intentionally designed. We heard how sounds come from all directions and distances, how sound moves around and above us, be it vehicles or seagulls. How sound is shaped by architecture and how we move between buildings, by the ground we walk on. How many unidentifiable sounds we are constantly hearing in urban settings, how they inform our imagination and orientation.

2) The astonishing quality of shared silence, made more easily accessible by walking together at a steady pace.

3) How utterly inexistent shared silence is in public culture, outside of sacred spaces and the rigid prescriptions of the concert hall. What is shared silence? Not a group of strangers on a subway, each immersed in their own thoughts, books or gadgets. But a group that sits or moves together with shared intention, opting not to speak but just to listen – to receive, and not to send. At one point, we passed a man with a leaf-blower who was clearing a small alley. He started talking to us and was so confused by our polite smiles and nods that he actually grabbed one student by the arm quite forcefully and asked if we were on a funeral march.

A profound experience, always available if we’re with trusted people. I urge you to explore it.

If you are in Switzerland, I’m planning to offer more sound walks in the future. It also looks like next spring I might be doing a multi-day course revolving around listening as part of a music festival. Get in touch if you want to join me for either or both, or subscribe here to receive updates.

Tobias

Composition Exercise #187

Think of a way you haven’t listened before, then listen that way.

 

[I’m giving an afternoon class on “Kann man Hören lernen? (Can we learn to listen?)” at the Swiss Chamber Music Festival Adelboden. The course takes place in Kandersteg, Switzerland on September 15th, 2-5pm. Info and registration here.]


Once or twice each month I share more thoughts, essays and materials related to the blog on my newsletter, which you can subscribe to here.