Spontaneously Harmonious in Certain Kinds of Weather

In 1984 I built the first long Aeolian harp with the help of my friend Thaddeus Holowina. We were both surprised when we fitted the first string, clamped the lock and heard a sound that could have occurred in a science fiction movie from the 50«s when the flying saucer appears on the scene. The music sounded very electronic but it was produced in a totally unelectronic way by natural forces.

I have built many versions of long Aeolian harps where I used piano chords that were up to 40 meters long and old pianos as acoustic sound enhancers. The most dramatic version was in 1988 on the peak of Gibbet´s Hill in St.John«s, Newfoundland, where we transported a piano to the top of the mountain with a helicopter. We stretched a lot of 40 meter long piano chords over the edge of the cliff and fastened them on the underlying rocks. At the official opening, a lot of people stood near the piano and waited for something to happen, but there was no wind, not even the slightest breeze, and the piano didn«t move.

I also built a sequence of water versions that I call Aquaeolian harps. I had one in the shape of a whirlpool at the Hall of Science in New York. The instrument showed that wind music can be "transposed" to water music. My next step in this series was an installation in which long chords ran off into the Wupper river in the center of the Wuppertal (Wupper valley). The phenomenon functioned well and produced "Aquaeolian" sounds but I hadn«t realized that the debris floating down the river (mainly leaves and plastic bags) could hook onto the chords and stop their vibrations. So most of the viewers saw the piece as a nice idea that went screwy; but when I think about it clearly I see this installation ,as well as other "failures", as integral parts of "experimental music". "Experimental" is half of "experimental music". A piece need not produce a sound to be successful; ideas about sounds and experiments with sounds are what count in the end. When one works with an unpredictable phenomenon experimental situations can sometimes lead to unexpectedly nice sounds.

About 10 years ago I read British scientist Lord Rayleigh«s report, who in the 19th Century experimented with chords in front of an open chimney. He could regulate the air pressure by poking the flame and opening or closing the door of the room; this resulted in different tonal movements of the vibrating chords. It made me decide to build a harp that would function inside a house. In this way Aeolian sounds could be produced at wish without having to wait for the wind to come or the rain to go away. In 1991 I built a prototype out of wood and drywall in the Exploratorium in San Francisco. The installation in the Parochial church in Berlin will continue this experiment in 1996, and I can only pray that the wires conduct themselves as I hope: "spontaneously harmonious in certain kinds of weather ".