Efimero
Mar 26, 07:16 PM
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"I have never experienced Día de los Muertos in Oaxaca firsthand, but I have always been inspired by the spirit of this ritualistic celebration. A day of gathering—of families, friends, and ancestors—where the entire community comes together to share food, music, memories, and stories, surrounded by vibrant colors of flowers and costumes. This holiday seems to me a beautiful and consoling way to engage with death, to mourn the departed, and to reflect on the transience of life.
"The field recording captures voices, likely of people gathered in a cemetery. These are joyful sounds. Their density suggests a large crowd of all ages coming together. By applying filtering techniques, I extracted pitches and harmonies from these recordings. As a symbol of ephemerality, I chose the conch shell: an instrument with sacred and ancient associations—with the sea, with the call to prayer, with the underworld, the moon, fertility, and the wind god Ehécatl, who had the power to breathe life into a void. Its haunting sound echoes what Patrick Johansson describes as the primordial blast of the world produced in the underworld by Quetzalcóatl, heralding the creation of humankind.
"The extracted pitches and harmonies led me to my existing piece for six conch shells and bass drum, Songs from Rhiannon. [Listen here: https://on.soundcloud.com/JUQX4EzhPDYctXKE6]
"An excerpt of this piece appears after the full field recording. The conch shells continue, transpose, extend, and amplify the voices we hear. They sing a song that transports us to an unearthly space—dark, yet embracing.
"Efímero begins with a female voice reading calaveras, a poetic form written specifically for Día de los Muertos. These verses humorously critique the living while reminding them of their mortality. The recitation transitions to the voice of a young girl expressing wonder and joy, calling the names of the seven archangels as she marvels at the colors, sounds, and scents surrounding the gathered crowd. Her perspective is not from our world. She speaks of the beauty of life but also of her struggle with its fleeting nature—her life was so short.
"The calaveras are read in Spanish by Ainoa Padrón Ortiz. The short text that follows, in Spanish and German, is read by her daughter, Sofía Fuhrmann Padrón.
The conch shells are played by Christine Chapman, Bruce Collings, Bob Koertshuis, Melvyn Poore, Markus Schwind, and the composer Marco Blaauw. The bass drum is played by Dirk Rothbrust.
"It was a great pleasure to work on this project. Listening to the sounds of Oaxaca, to the voices of people gathered for this beautiful tradition, made me feel as if I were there. My ears traveled all the way to Mexico, allowing me to reflect on my own annual traditions, cultural celebrations, and ways of connecting with the dead."
Day of the dead at Oaxaca cemetery reimagined by Marco Blaauw.
———————
This sound is part of the Sonic Heritage project, exploring the sounds of the world’s most famous sights.
Find out more and explore the whole project: https://www.citiesandmemory.com/heritage
"The field recording captures voices, likely of people gathered in a cemetery. These are joyful sounds. Their density suggests a large crowd of all ages coming together. By applying filtering techniques, I extracted pitches and harmonies from these recordings. As a symbol of ephemerality, I chose the conch shell: an instrument with sacred and ancient associations—with the sea, with the call to prayer, with the underworld, the moon, fertility, and the wind god Ehécatl, who had the power to breathe life into a void. Its haunting sound echoes what Patrick Johansson describes as the primordial blast of the world produced in the underworld by Quetzalcóatl, heralding the creation of humankind.
"The extracted pitches and harmonies led me to my existing piece for six conch shells and bass drum, Songs from Rhiannon. [Listen here: https://on.soundcloud.com/JUQX4EzhPDYctXKE6]
"An excerpt of this piece appears after the full field recording. The conch shells continue, transpose, extend, and amplify the voices we hear. They sing a song that transports us to an unearthly space—dark, yet embracing.
"Efímero begins with a female voice reading calaveras, a poetic form written specifically for Día de los Muertos. These verses humorously critique the living while reminding them of their mortality. The recitation transitions to the voice of a young girl expressing wonder and joy, calling the names of the seven archangels as she marvels at the colors, sounds, and scents surrounding the gathered crowd. Her perspective is not from our world. She speaks of the beauty of life but also of her struggle with its fleeting nature—her life was so short.
"The calaveras are read in Spanish by Ainoa Padrón Ortiz. The short text that follows, in Spanish and German, is read by her daughter, Sofía Fuhrmann Padrón.
The conch shells are played by Christine Chapman, Bruce Collings, Bob Koertshuis, Melvyn Poore, Markus Schwind, and the composer Marco Blaauw. The bass drum is played by Dirk Rothbrust.
"It was a great pleasure to work on this project. Listening to the sounds of Oaxaca, to the voices of people gathered for this beautiful tradition, made me feel as if I were there. My ears traveled all the way to Mexico, allowing me to reflect on my own annual traditions, cultural celebrations, and ways of connecting with the dead."
Day of the dead at Oaxaca cemetery reimagined by Marco Blaauw.
———————
This sound is part of the Sonic Heritage project, exploring the sounds of the world’s most famous sights.
Find out more and explore the whole project: https://www.citiesandmemory.com/heritage