It’s the way that the waves go from so gentle and calm to thunderous and crashing. They represent everything in so many ways – the ebb and flow of life itself, maybe even the cycle of universes. Maybe because I used to be a fish, maybe because my mummy’s tummy is full of seawater. Whatever it is, it’s primal.
4. Beethoven String Quartet op. 132 Movement III
If it’s played at half the speed of the above performance and with the right space and understanding of Ludders, this movement (at least the beginning), is om, the sound of the universe. It’s music to die to.
Several composers have had a go at writing this down. Messiaen was a notable one. Nice try Olivier, but no chance. I love the complexity and simplicity of birdsong. I love how you never know what it will do but always know how it will sound.
2. Wind In Trees
“A tree doesn’t judge. It doesn’t criticize your clothes, or bring up poor viewing figures if you politely refuse to sign an autograph for its sister-in-law who’s recovering from an operation; a tree won’t pull a face.” ~ Alan Partridge
I like the sound of wind through trees. It’s like a leafy fugue. Chaos in order. Order in chaos.
Not the hit track by folk duo Simon and Garfunkel, which is not silent at all, but just good old fashion silence. Golden. It’s the sound of being, and lack of thought. The space that allows everything to be, the silence that allows sound. Having mild tinnitus I cannot experience true silence. That’s a shame. But I like my tinnitussy version just fine.