LP/DL VON 023
vonarchives.com / youtu.be/w4EZl2m0HJc / soundcloud.com/vonarchives/von023-ariel-guzik-cordiox-track-1 / vimeo.com/183223659
In 1937 some weeks before dying, Guglielmo Marconi, the inventor of radio, had a dream, a vision that con rm his theory, that sound never dies, it emanates and resonates eternally, it floats around us as an etheric entity, coexisting around us, waiting to be captured tune to; he dreamed that with a development of his inventions he would be able to hear it, to hear the voices of the past, that in some way he would be able to tune his instruments to hear the voice of Jesus giving the sermon on the mount of olives, or even listen to the piece that the orchestra in the Titanic, was playing before sinking, an image that was very present for him since he was suppose to be in that boat, but failed to actually board in time in Southampton on April 10th 1912.
This idea of creating an instrument that crosses the portals of time was the first sensation I had when I visited the church of Saint Lorenzo in Venice, and heard for the first time the Cordiox.
The immanence and the purity of a sound that would inhabit, respond and listen to the past, the present and the future. The feeling of surrender to the immensity of time, both by chaos and entropy, by the magical capacity of resonance. I remember having that feeling of becoming an instrument, a resonant body tuning yourself to the vibratory reactions of a space, like that dreamed Marconi machine.
Cordiox is a machine, an instrument that communicates through time, vibrates and resonates to its surroundings, creating a response to it, communicating with it. Like all other works of Ariel Guzik, it grasps the eternal, and produces harmonic sounds that are dif cult to reproduce,
in standard serial machinery. It is unlikely that you‘ll hear sounds like the ones Cordiox produces reacts, inspires. Ariel’s work as all work of great artist is indescribable, impossible to catalogue, to pin, to define, to imitate, it is a part of long tradition of creators, thinkers and inventors, that have being pushing the boundaries and crossovers of science and art for millennia. From James Clerk Maxwell, (that illustrates the cover of VON023) to Tesla, from Kirchner to Marconi. If I would have to image or represent that machine that Marconi dreamed of, I will certainly imagine it very similar to the Cordiox. […]
If Ariel Guzik’s Cordiox appeals to “the coexistence of vibrations harmonically tamed by the strings, in turn housed and emitted towards the surroundings by means of the instrument’s crystal heart, producing in the atmosphere – an ample, closed, and reverberating place such as a chapel – a succession of chants, pulses, and palpitations,” then these lines appeal to the coexistence of music, human chant, the act of listening to sound, and the persistence of theories which reside within what has been silenced. I also wanted to bring about an equally intense and audible succession of sound memories and throbbing. To that end, only the air. What else, since sound is nothing other than the percussion of air?