Why am I making music? Why do I perform on stage?
It’s almost impossible to answer these questions in one word. I enjoy telling stories, creating fantastic, surreal worlds, inviting anyone to join me in my dreamscapes, making audiences dance in their imagination (or for real), feeling the sound vibrating through my body, and creating emotions. Also, I want to listen, and I want to be heard. It’s a privilege being able to connect with strangers without the help of words, but through music alone.
A while ago, I had a very special audience in Caleta ChaΓ±aral de Aceituna in northern Chile. It was January in the little fisher village at the Pacific Ocean. The sun was burning down on the sandy desert and a harsh wind was blowing from the sea. Every here and there, Guanacos were looking for the last dry grass among the dunes, constantly watching their surroundings. Nature feels raw and untamed with giant sea stars feasting on snails and sea lion carcasses rotting on the rocky beach. Drinking water is rare and a preciuos good. Consequently, our campsite is equipped with dry compost toilets and showers with hot water are available only between certain hours during the day. But why did we come here?
We came to Caleta ChaΓ±aral because in this particular area of the Humboldt current, many different kinds of whales stop for feeding. We couldn’t pass on the chance of watching whales closely from a boat while in Chile. And let me tell you, it is incredible to hear and see a blow next to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about these huge mammals after our tour and I kept hearing them breathe in my head day and night like a haunting melody. The next morning, I rushed out of our tent and ran after Gonzalo, campsite host and whale boat captain, who was already on his way to the next whale tour. I asked him to record some of the blows with our little audio recorder. First, he was quite startled about my request, but after I explained myself, he happily agreed to take it with him. When he arrived back from the whale watching tour, a crazy little idea evolved inside me. So, I seized my once in a lifetime chance and talked to him and his partner Gaspar about a possible collaboration, where music and nature meet.
And there we are a few days later again on Gonzalo’s boat, but this time without anybody else but with my bass clarinet and Sebastian’s filming equipment. Usually for whale watching you keep your eyes out to catch a blow and then rush the boat towards it, so you might get a chance to look at the whale. But this time, we just went to the area where they might be and started the experiment. I played on my bass clarinet sitting down and putting the bell on the floor to use the boat as a resonating body. And you probably won’t believe me, but the fin whales heard my music and approached the boat curious about the weird sounds I was creating. It felt amazing and very special being able to call them and somehow communicate with them. The little crew was also mesmerized. One of the ecologists told me with tears in her eyes that she had never experienced something like that even though she is watching whales every day.
The same night, Gaspar, campsite host and poet, invited the local community to come listen to a concert of mine at the campsite. With almost 50 people in the audience, it probably was my biggest concert in Chile. People had all sorts of different backgrounds from studying ecotourism, to former fishermen manoeuvring whale watching boats, to a farmer growing tulips north of Santiago for export, to name just a few. But everyone was very open minded and interested in my music and my work with composers around the world. They also asked me if I had studied whale sounds intensely before going on the boat with my bass clarinet. I had to admit that I didn’t study them at all, as the whole cooperation was so spontaneous. But I know now that I want to come again with more time to focus solely on this and play for the whales and improvise for and with them.
