Brooms
The simple is omnipresent, as advanced as modern technology, and it references education and complexity, rather than the primitive. Simplicity is more about enhancement than reduction, specifically in matters of the quotidian — the small significances which in their bare evidence easily remain unseen and unheard, unless they are encountered with attentiveness. How many melodies happen when water streams onto the sink? How many varieties of chants occur when the hand strikes the surface of paper sheets with graphite pencils? How many dancing pieces are heard outside Japanese temples when the grounds are swept with brooms?
Glass
In form of bottles, glass has been emulating music instruments for a long time. The surface of glass is often impenetrable as well as fragile. But in the right shape and dependent of the touch, it could multiply or constrain sound, beyond what is expected to be recognized as Music.
Paper, Cardboard
Something as simple, common and often unspectacular as pieces and rolls of paper allow a great variety of sounds and transport them in a very unique way. I like to think that they clearly show the volume and density found in what we hear, irrelevant of what we expect it to be or look like. And I like uncommon uses of the common.
Pianoforte
Several decades have been spent sitting in front of these magnificent ships. I like the heavier ones, the ones able to portray an earthquake. Those with keys that respond immediately to any sort of finger touch or movement and where the finger has some sharp character to battle against and with.
Around 1966 my parents placed a massive black upright piano in our living room and I was drawn to it every single day. Years later they bought an organ. I have no recollection at which time of the day I was learning and doing homework while getting grades with a 4.00 average in high school, but during one particular year my classes were from 1:00 pm until the early evening. Each weekday, while my siblings were in school and my parents at work, I did nothing in the morning hours, but to go from the piano to the organ to the piano to the organ, to the piano, until it was time to leave for my first class of the day.
Due to an experience that did not allow me to continue joyfully playing and performing concepts, in 2001 I began a pause. This pause is dissipating, twenty-four years later.
Sila Blume 