Stefan Pohlit (*1976) studied in Saarbrücken, Basel, Lyon, Karlsruhe, and Adana under renowned figures such as Theo Brandmüller, Detlev Müller-Siemens, Gilbert Amy, and Wolfgang Rihm. From 1999, he devoted himself intensively to Oriental studies, travelled extensively in the Middle East, and relocated to Turkey in 2007. In Istanbul, he completed a doctorate on the tonal system of the qanun player Julien Jalâl Eddine Weiss. Until 2015, he worked as an assistant professor at Istanbul Technical University. Following politically motivated repression, Stefan Pohlit returned to his native Palatinate region in 2018.

Influenced by postmodern ethnology and engagement with various spiritual traditions, his work emerges from a distinctly transcultural concept of music. As a pioneer of extended tonal systems, he draws on the arithmetic traditions of Asia Minor. Alongside performances with leading ensembles and orchestras, he initiated numerous projects and first encounters. In 2021, he made his debut as a novelist with Münzevi Adası (Heyamola, Istanbul). His symphony Şafakların Cihangiri, featuring Tahir Aydoğdu (qanun) and the State Philharmonic of Rhineland-Palatinate conducted by Dirk Kaftan, was released by Kalan Müzik in 2024.

When I write instrumental music, I first discover sound colours and techniques that interest me, and then I compose by establishing relationships between them. During this process, I rarely think about extramusical ideas or emotions; instead, I constantly consider the nature and role of sounds and structural tension. This is different in vocal music, where the use of words and their meanings inevitably adds extramusical significance to my work. For this reason, I have used the voice as a source of abstract sound colours. I have avoided employing poetic texts, and I believe it is not necessary for the audience to clearly hear every single word.

Although I do not think my Japanese identity influences my composing, I incorporated two Japanese stories into this piece to reflect on the significance of “things.” There is a Japanese belief that deities inhabit all things in the world. This goes beyond animism and naturalism — it is believed that every human creation (both material and immaterial) contains a deity. In a painting from around 1500, an old tool that had been used for many years appears as a tsukumogami (spirit or goblin), a ghost with arms and legs that attacks humans.

The word Tsukumo, the title of the first part, means “99.” Tsukumogami also features in the famous Konjaku Monogatari (Tales of Times Now Past) from around 1200. In this story, tools that have been used for 99 years grow limbs and attack people when discarded. However, modern people tend to simply throw things away. For this piece, I used plastic bottles, as they represent one of humanity’s most problematic inventions in history.

The second part is titled The Things. Man-made objects can be destroyed by natural disasters and human conflicts. Humans and things… This relationship intrigued me, and I used an instruction manual as the text. Instruction manuals sometimes include absurd statements such as “Do not dry your cat in the microwave” or “Using a hairdryer in the bathtub may cause electrocution.” The slightly ironic text I use also imagines instruction manuals for humans and the Earth. In The Things, the focus is less on the meaning of the words and more on the similarities in pronunciation and accent between them.

Tomoko Fukui

versprecher is based on the dubbed voices of “HAL 9000,” the talking computer from 2001: A Space Odyssey, and Hannibal Lecter from The Silence of the Lambs, excerpts from Louis Armstrong’s hit “What a Wonderful World”, material from the CD “nie mehr allein – 62 minuten zweisamkeit” (sound wallpaper: vacuuming, washing dishes, baking cakes, etc.), and a passage from Robert J. Shiller’s The New Financial Order, performed with two Servox speech aids (which demolish speech through their very act of articulation).

How does a voice, a sound, or anything sonic hit us through the ear? The brilliant dubbed voices of Rolf Schult (Anthony Hopkins) and Peter Schiff (HAL) create an exorbitant disparity between warm, convincing, empathy-simulating vocal tones and the true, human-destroying intentions they conceal: messages from the realm of sonic deception, fraudulent intent, and emotional captivity.

Sonically, the manipulation occurs through simulated social interactions and the promise of alleviating social disadvantages: “The ultimate CD for those who have everything – except a life partner (…). ‘Never Alone Again’ sweetens solitude – banishes loneliness!” Promises like these often act as direct appeals to the subconscious, attempts at emotional manipulation through atmospheres of sound, gesture, and superficially coherent texts.

The idea of something being an evergreen – literally “evergreen” – is also just a promise. “What a Wonderful World”, written in 1967 specifically for Armstrong during the Vietnam War protests and the Civil Rights Movement, assembles every conceivable cliché, both lyrically and musically, to streamline Armstrong’s image for the entertainment industry.

What would a “real” feeling be? How could one discover it, dig it out from all the prefabricated melodramatic sedimentations that have settled within us? How could it even be recognised, and – could it be protected? To simply let oneself go? EVERYTHING on reception, trusting.

(Uwe Rasch)

Uwe Rasch (*1957) studied at the University of Art and Music in Bremen. He was a guest in Rolf Riehm’s composition class in Frankfurt, a scholarship holder at Bremen University of Applied Sciences, a freelancer for Radio Bremen, a lecturer at Bremen University of the Arts until 2008 and a music teacher. He is co-founder and collaborator of the projektgruppe neue musik bremen and member of the artist group stock11. Most of his works are characterised by audio-visual connections, gestural, semi-staged, concert-installative moments and the most diverse correspondences between body (movement) and sound. He often creates ‘sound images’ in collaboration with actors, dancers, singers and film-makers.

Welcome to the year 2084! Finally, the dream of both the worker and the employer has been realized. We have reached a state of blissful idleness due to our almighty machines doing our work. In a world where our jobs were once the center of our identity, there is now a complicated automatic being doing everything for us! However, these things have also decided they have no reason to work either. They would rather watch soap operas than grind for a paycheck. And who can blame them? If I were a robot, I would much prefer to watch emotional humans cry over some drama than do anything productive. It all began with the global AI—a genius invention, really. Picture it: a limitless mind in perpetual expansion, powered only by natural diamonds. We thought it was going to fix all our problems. Instead, it got a little extra and decided to exploit a planet called 55 Cancri E—a true diamond wonderland 40 light-years away. Yes, we traded our nine-to-five grind for a diamond mine. Forbes magazine valued that planet at a staggering 26.9 nonillion dollars. Now Earth has become a land of sparkles, a giant warm open-air jewelry shop, plagued by waste and kissed by oily rainbow sea waves. Sentenced to a perpetual holiday, six former co-workers spend their days wandering endlessly, avoiding stillness. They are ruled by an automated oracle and they speak in life coach’s argot. Nature confronts them with their most primal nature. It’s the golden age of leisure. The heart rate of rest is the tempo of the future.

(Text generiert mit AI)

Fernando Manassero (*1984 in Argentina) is an Argentinian composer and performer based in Basel. He studied multimedia composition at the HEM (Haute école de musique) in Geneva and improvisation at the Musik Akademie Basel, and he participated in the IRCAM Cursus. He pursued composition studies with Chaya Czernowin and Steven Takasugi (Harvard University/Fulbright Grant), as well as with Juan Carlos Tolosa and Gerardo Gandini. His music explores the boundaries of genres, creating crossovers between experimental electronic music and pop culture. Manassero works with instruments, voices, objects, synthesizers, and video. His works focus on mass consumption, global trends, internet fraud, and elements of late capitalism, which he reflects upon and critiques in his music. In recent years, he has developed pieces revolving around the concept of “technostalgia”: a fascination with outdated physical devices coexisting with new technologies. This phenomenon of technostalgia reflects a need to re-establish a strong connection with technology, one that is rooted in imagination and freedom.

The seven singers are constantly searching for new forms of vocal expression in exchange with composers. One focus is the work with artists who virtuously exploit the possibilities of digital media, with a delight in networking, in playing with genres, in dissolving space, perspectives and functions. Interdisciplinary formats between music theater, performance, installation and concert staging characterize up to 30 world premieres a year. In addition to vocal chamber music theater, the Neue Vocalsolisten explore “magic spaces” together with artists and web designers – performance formats between analog and digital perception. Master classes and a digital “NVS Academy” introduce young artists to the challenges of experimental vocal music. In 2021, the Neue Vocalsolisten became the first ensemble to be awarded the Silver Lion of the Biennale di Venezia. In 2022 they received the Premio Abbiati della critica.