A creak. A squeak. A plop. A cough. Genuflection. In Utrecht's Pieterskerk, the singers of Silbersee surround us with almost inaudible, mysterious sounds. The fragmentation evokes an atmosphere of a restless nocturnal forest. Does an owl screech there? The fabric condenses and the sound changes colour as the singers buzz through cardboard tubes, blow mini harmonicas and play shrill whistles. Are the monkeys getting into a fight? Police sirens sound up, a sudden forte of hoarse...
You can now log in to continue reading!
Welcome to the Culture Press archive! As a member, you have access to all, over 4,000 posts we have made since our inception in 2009!
(Recent posts (under three months old) are available for all to read, thanks to our members!)
Become a member, or log in below:
You must be logged in to post a comment.