The piece has commissioned as a result of Ö1 Talentebörse Kompositionspreis 2024 provided by the Oesterreichische Nationalbank (OeNB)

Helena Sorokina, Alt;
Samuel Toro Perez, E-Gitarre;
Raffael Dolezal, Violoncello;
Georg Hasibeder, Schlagwerk;
Severin Neubauer, Saxofon

Conductor: Clemens Flieder 
Recording: Fridolin Stolz

Definition of Oneself

to listen or not to listen

The Legal Birth Act

Traces

空から地上を透視すれば
街路も村道も鉄道も産業道路も生活道路も
白墨で描いたような無数の薄白い軌道が重なり
切り刻まれ、ささくれだっている
仕事、買い物、旅行、配達、徘徊、逃走、探索、追跡
人と動物と物が動きまわった痕跡は消えることがないが
わたしの足跡と自転車の車輪が描く軌道を見分けることはできない

Seeing through the ground from the sky.
Streets, village roads, railways, industrial roads, and community roads are all full of traces like pale tracks drawn with chalk.
The ground is like a wall with doodles.
Work, shopping, traveling, deliveries, wandering, escaping, searching, or being tracked.
Traces of moving about of humans, animals, and objects never disappear.
I cannot find my footsteps and ruts of my bike from traces interwining each other on the ground.


Traces

a walk in the autumn woods

COOP SYNT

Assemblage

"Do the Wheel"

Origin of Code

Made on FL studio mobile and a toy voice manipulator and voice pitch for background audio. Some side solo stuff by (Mitchell) while I'm waiting on two tracks to come back from being worked on by secret members of the Machine Talks project (its not that serious a secret its a couple of life long friends of mine that I haven't done music with in a couple decades). I still would like to do a new song every day even if its not on the current project or projects with Tidus. So I will still be uploading fairly regularly.

Why's It So Strange?

hybrid days

I was trained in tradition, yet I stepped beyond its walls. Sound is my language, not to decorate but to liberate. Composer, performer, and listener — one fire, three sparks, inseparable.

I write and compose to uncover what is hidden: the truth buried beneath power, the dignity of the ordinary, the current of awareness that flows through all.

I belong to no authority, only to sound, to truth, to the silence from which all begins. My work is not mastery, but remembrance — a manifesto in every note, every word, every breath.

I am a composer of the 21st century: a studio artist. The studio is my forge, my battlefield, my sanctuary. Machines hum like choirs, circuits burn like torches, cables twist like roots in the earth. Tradition breaks open in this fire — the score turns to light, the instrument becomes the world itself.

To be a studio artist is to seize sound at its rawest, to sculpt electricity and breath as one, to summon the invisible power that belongs to all. Here music is not bound by walls, not enslaved by profit, not tamed by form. It is free, untouchable, unending — a living flame for the century that is ours.

Origin of Code

Anthony Cutrera Morales

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