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Sanatorium of Sound Festival 09

Time. Futurism. Revisions is the theme of the 9th edition of Sanatorium of Sound Festival. The festival will take place on 11-13 August in Sokołowsko. 

Sanatorium of Sound is a festival created by the Contemporary Art Foundation Situ Foundation in Sokołowsko. The idea behind the festival is to present the broadest possible spectrum of phenomena related to the development of musical forms in the 20th and 21st centuries, maintaining a balance between the traditions of musical experimentation developed in recent decades and the new, as yet unstructured tendencies of sound art. Each year, the festival's programme develops in multiple layers, including concerts, composer commissions, sound installations, performances, workshops, discussions, artist residencies and curatorial practices related to sound ecology, architecture, nature and medicine.

The importance and possibilities of sound are well demonstrated by the fact that the impulse leading to the revolution in 20th century art was the experience of the audiosphere of the modern metropolis. As Filippo Tommaso Marinetti wrote in The Manifesto of Futurism (1909): "We shuddered suddenly at the sound of the shrill noise of the giant double-decker trams". He was echoed by Luigi Russolo in The Art of Noise (1913): "The life of the past was silence. Only in the 19th century, with the invention of machinery, was noise born. Today, noise triumphs and reigns sovereignly over the sensibility of people”.

In the visual and literary spheres, the concept of noise functioned as a capacious metaphor, making it possible to describe, for example, the pace of metropolitan life or the split in human subjectivity, but in music it was a factor that brought about changes of truly fundamental importance, as it made it possible to significantly expand the range of means of expression and the repository of forms, while also conceptually reworking the basic concepts of musical discourse. It was an important point of reference for Edgard Verèse, John Cage and Zbigniew Karkowski alike.

 

Today, noise is still a phenomenon. It appears in new incarnations, easily adapting to the realities of World 3.0. So it is not just about the ecology of sound, but about the whole area of phenomena related to the transmission of information, cyberspace, media, art. During this year’s edition of the Sanatorium of Sound, we want to return to the moment of the birth of noise, which manifested itself in the fiery proclamations of the Italian Futurists. In doing so, we will try to revise the history of the avant-garde, finding in it both inspiration and pointing to postulates which, from today’s perspective, seem reactionary or even politically threatening. We are looking for an answer to the question of what the new futurism would be and where to look for its roots, ideological and artistic sources.

 

A special event of the festival will be the opening concert at Kino Zdrowie, during which we will hear performances of new compositions commissioned especially for The Orchestra of Futurist Noise Intoners – a sixteen-person ensemble led by the Italian composer Luciano Chessa, playing replicas of experimental instruments designed by Luigi Russolo (the so-called intonarumori). In collaboration with the Performa biennial, the Intonarumori Orchestra (16 instruments) is brought from New York for the occasion. The concert will take place on the 110th anniversary of the announcement of the Art of Noise manifesto, and festival composer’s commissions realized by John Hegre, Mariam Gviniashvili, Aleksandra Słyż, and Gerard Lebik will be performed by the orchestra composed of Klaus Holm, John Hegre, Jon Wesseltoft, Mike McCormick, Guoste Tamulynaite,  Magdaléna Manderlová, Mariam Gviniashvili, Martyna Kosecka, Teoniki Rożynek, Aleksandra Słyż, Martyna Poznańska, Piotr Peszat, Jacek Sotomski, Zosia Hołubowska, Gerard Lebik, Marek Chołoniewski and conducted by Luciano Chessa.The artists involved in The Orchestra of Futurist Noise Intoners project will also present their solo works on the ambisonic, multichannel soundsystem of Biuro Dźwięku Katowice. Justyna Stasiowska and Szymon Szewczyk join the BDK. 

 

Australian composer and guitarist Oren Ambarchi, Robert Piotrowicz, who explores the world of modular music, Italian Valerio Tricolli, who uses reel-to-reel tape recorders, and Canadian sound artist crys cole, who works with composition, improvised performance and sound installation, will also present their noise-based musical visions. Magdalena Manderlova, Paweł Kulczyński and Sokołowsko-based artist Edka Jarząb will show an individual perspective on sound installations.

 

Austrian member of the Academy of Arts in Berlin Peter Ablinger, considered on of the most influential composers of contemporary music of the 20th century, will present: THE REAL AS IMAGINARY (2012), Beehive – sound sculpture, 2021, General Strike of Art, C-A-G-E or Music Mirror, and WEISS / WEISSLICH 25b/25c.

 

The programme will include the premiere collaboration of Lacking sound Fest and Electropixel Festival – SUBTROPICAL OSCILLATION II / ELECTROPIXEL ULTIMATE SOUND WAVES. French artists Jenny Pickett and Julien Ottavi will join forces with representatives of the Taiwanese music scene: Lai Tsung Yun, Huang Ya Nung, Lucia H Chung, YAN Sheng-wen. In addition, their solo audiovisual projects will be on display in the spectacular ruins of the former Dr. Brehmer’s Sanatorium.

 

The Czech experimental music scene will be represented this year by: Ursula Sereghy, Michal Kindernay and Aestum. In addition, non-standard approaches to club music will be presented by hermeneia, julek ploski, Avtomat and Sara Persico

 

There will also be publishing premieres; Valerio Tricoli’s album Silesian Seizures Showtimes – a concert recorded during his performance at the 2018 festival – will be released under the Sokolowsko Music label in cooperation with Bocian Records, as will the duo Keith Rowe and Gerard Lebik’s “Dry Mountain” released on Inexhaustible Editions.

 

A special series of lectures and discussions with artists and avant-garde researchers, curated by Wroclaw-based literary critic Paweł Szroniak, will be devoted to issues related to Futurism. The program includes talks on the reactionary avant-garde, considerations on the role of AI in art, the history of Intonarumori, and a discussion around Elena Biserna’s book Walking From Scores. Daniel Muzyczuk, Agnieszka Pindera, Joanna Sokołowska, Maciej Ożóg, Canti Spazializzati have confirmed their participation in the panels.

 

Each year, the festival’s programme develops in multiple layers, including concerts, composer commissions, sound installations, performances, workshops, discussions, artist residencies and curatorial practices related to sound ecology, architecture, nature and medicine. Since 2015, the festival has presented around 250 projects by artists from all over the world, many of which were commissioned during artist residencies in Sokołowsko, a spa town located in the Central Sudetes, where in the 19th century, in a building designed by the prominent architect Edwin Oppler, the German physician Dr Hermann Brehmer founded the world’s first lung disease sanatorium. The landscape of the mountains surrounding saSokołowsko, the post-German nineteenth-century architecture or the wonderful air have always been inseparable attributes of activities in the field of sound art and any reflection on sound arts. 

 

The programme of this year’s festival also includes projects initiated by HILO – Norwegian-Polish Platform for New Music Development – a platform created for cooperation between Polish and Norwegian artists, curators, educators and organisers working in the field of new music in the broadest sense.

 

The HILO project is realised by the In Situ Foundation for Contemporary Art and the International Cultural Laboratory in Sokołowsko. Partners of the project are nyMusikk – Norway’s centre for contemporary music, Sanatorium of Sound Festival, Only Connect Festival, Punkt Festival, University of Agder, Sokołowsko Jazz, Avant Art Festival, ŁAŹNIA Centre for Contemporary Art, Ładne Historie Foundation and the Academy of Fine Arts in Gdańsk.

 

The HILO project is funded by Iceland, Liechtenstein and Norway under Action 2 Improving access to culture and the arts of the Culture Programme within the framework of the European Economic Area Financial Mechanism 2014-2021.

 

The project is co-financed by the Governments of Czechia, Hungary, Poland and Slovakia through Visegrad Grants from International Visegrad Fund. The mission of the fund is to advance ideas for sustainable regional cooperation in Central Europe.

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Program

12 August
Park
02:00

Sanatorium of Sound is a festival focused on experimental music and the broadly understood fields of sound and sonic art. The main objective of the festival is to present the widest possible spectrum of the phenomena related to the development of musical forms in the 20th and 21st centuries, maintaining the balance between the traditions of experimental music of the past few decades and the new, still structureless, emergent tendencies. So far the festival has presented realizations from over 200 artists coming from all over the world. The festival is directed by Gerard Lebik and Zuzanna Fogtt and is held in Sokolowsko-spa village in the mountains on the Czech-Polish border.

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2017
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Financing
The project 'HILO - Norwegian-Polish Platform for new Music Development' was co-financed by the European Economic Area Financial Mechanism (EEA) 2014-2021 and the state budget.
Organiser
Partners
The project is co-financed by the Governments of Czechia, Hungary, Poland and Slovakia through Visegrad Grants from International Visegrad Fund. The mission of the fund is to advance ideas for sustainable regional cooperation in Central Europe.
Financing
Funded by the Ministry of Culture and National Heritage from the Culture Promotion Fund under the "Music" program, implemented by the National Institute of Music and Dance
The project is co-financed by the governments of Czechia, Hungary, Poland and Slovakia through Visegrad Grants from the International Visegrad Fund. The mission of the fund is to advance ideas for sustainable regional cooperation in Central Europe.
Organiser
Partners
Media
It's a matter of the body
Robert Piotrowicz

The first time I said the word 'body', I felt it, I heard it, and I understood it. All of this happened in the very same moment, though only later, when I saw people running toward me, did I grasp the meaning of that process. Were they carrying themselves in my direction, or was it merely their image reaching me? Or perhaps it was the noise they made, pounding their shoes on the wooden bridge, shouting at me. What they were doing, I didn’t know. But I felt it in such a way that it couldn't be more.

 

When we observe qualities — those phenomena and ideas that surround us — we work hard to come to know them. We try to grasp them, assign them meaning, understand their presence. We move in cycles, where experience always precedes the accumulation of knowledge. With each step, we uncover further layers of pulsating elements that surround us, and yet often (perhaps always) we remain unfulfilled — though kindly embraced by what we hear.

It might be an oversimplification, but it concerns those dominant modes of knowing that societies readily adopt — quick, efficient, the kind of attitudes content with superficial perception. And yet, this is often the source of constant frustration. Or excitement. This process has no end. We move, shift directions, always searching — to experience, or to know? Does this question even make sense? Perhaps it’s in this very uncertainty, in the constant motion, that we are closest to ourselves.

One can — and this happens constantly — attempt to domesticate and organize experience. To subordinate it, control it, restrain it. Including that which is audible. The entire theater of sonic events can be subjected — clarity and precision tamed, ready to be repeated, to be performed again. But experience is always here and now, singular, full of affect. We are not merely collectors of data, arrangers of libraries, but just as much — subjects of sensual resonance.

We cannot look both ahead and behind us at the same time — that is obvious. Evolution has given us another tool for spatial control: by being in sound, we listen all around ourselves. We distinctly perceive depths, distances, the complex structure of auditory reality. Is this not clear evidence that sound, existing all around us, is a body — not a flat phenomenon projected onto an invisible dome?

Yes, we are accustomed to associating sound with the image of our surroundings, a landscape with its own kind of horizon encircling us. But sound is like an invisible, mobile architecture, or rather, a sculpture in motion unfolding around us. And in fact, it is we who inhabit the space that it occupies, tracing its structure with moving air.

How does this omnipresence of an active sense, one that constantly scans our surroundings, shape our humanity? We function within this material, though invisible structure, immersed in vibrations — we breathe and move within it. What, beyond the corporeality we share, further enables us to comprehend the world?

Will our virtues benefit from practicing perceptual sensitivity? Will it make us more rational? Will deeper understanding help us become fully aware? Or perhaps becoming more sensitive to sound will instead pull us away from this order of the world — so that our virtues might be released, even for a moment — and push us into that phenomenon impossible to express in words, the phenomenon of sound.

So often we must assign it meaning, compare it to natural phenomena, to familiar practices coded into reality. In doing so, we strip it of its autonomy, because it is — sometimes, though not always — so difficult to treat sound as an element in its own right. We feel compelled to consume it with additions, with other ingredients of reality.

Training the virtues of the body, the qualities that allow one to make space within oneself for another body, may sound like some ultra-esoteric mindfulness. But let us allow ourselves a bit of room for actions that seem senseless!

Does caring for cognitive virtue not expose us to a certain confusion of those virtues? Perhaps an excessive intensification of sensitivity to sound doesn’t benefit other virtues at all — on the contrary, it may sabotage our dispositions.

Will our expanded boundaries of grasping this element help us better orient ourselves in traditional Euclidean space? Does awareness of a new presence around us support us — or does this excess disorient us, over-poeticize our surroundings?

It happens — and I claim it happens almost always, at least for a person even minimally sensitive to sound — that the simplest, most distinct sound (not necessarily a loud one) takes hold of the listener in a way far more significant than any corresponding visual element.

Would the white facade of a garage in a housing estate make the same impression as an equally distinct, self-contained sound — as simple as that expanse of white? This is an idealistic assumption. I have no ambition to arbitrate the dispute between the visible and the audible. I’m only trying to grasp how much, through its corporeality, sound differs from the visual environment.

For sound to begin to distinguish itself, to allow itself to be noticed, silence is sometimes needed at first. In many of our experiences, darkness also heightens this perceptual sensitivity. Do we need a background whose meaning fades with the onset of sound — and is that, for us, a necessary condition? Here, I want to draw attention to that crucial moment — the appearance of sound and the change in status of the environment in which we find ourselves — both in a perceptual and affective sense. This is the moment when space acquires a new dimension, and our presence within it is reformatted by the emergence of a meaningful presence. This change may be barely noticeable, or it may be dramatic and radical. Do we perceive these changes the same way we do changes in light? Likely so, in terms of volume — “it became quieter.” Attentive listening is surely one of those practices that enrich our perceptual virtues — capacities that shape not only our sensitivity, but also our way of being in relation to our surroundings — our perception of ourselves in the world. We are in motion.

In this configuration, the orientation of pleasure — for I do want to think of it decidedly as pleasure — can be understood as occurring in at least two directions. The performing person, depending on the medium they engage with, always attains a certain bodily pleasure; the sound that carries their presence on stage brings satisfaction to the one performing — who, most likely, also wishes to extend this to those who listen. Their bodies, in one way or another, also experience pleasure. This is, of course, a description of a model — of how potential delight might circulate — rather than a guarantee of its presence and distribution during a sound performance. It is precisely this dispersal of pleasure that leads us to ask about its directions and dynamics — about how the body of sound operates simultaneously inward and outward.

What stands out is the duality of the corporeality we are considering — not so much stretched between what is inside and what surrounds, but rather simultaneously rooted in both orders, without the need for paradox or exclusion. Resonating within one of the participating bodies, sound simultaneously spreads outward — permeating space, creating relation. The intensity of this dynamic depends on the listener’s activity — on their readiness to absorb and let pass through themselves that which is materially immaterial.

If we look at this process as an energetic field encompassing the concert space, we see one objective, corporeal being of sound, and around it bodies immersed in the same vibrating cloud — clusters of separate yet resonating centers of tension.

Despite its seemingly esoteric character, this description is grounded in real, bodily experience — it is empirical, even rooted in common sense.

Does somatic experience belong to “higher” aims? Perhaps the everyday experiencing of the body is ordinary, prosaic. And yet — it happens that precisely then, during exercise, running, tension — corporeality exceeds us, becomes something more. Personally, I cannot fully appreciate the pleasure of thinking if it is not accompanied by a physical passage through the body — that marked trace.

so — what does the performer do now?
What position do they occupy?
Are they merely the one who manages the cloud of bodies?
Or rather, should we place the sounding performer
at the center, which instantly disperses, becomes one —
pulsing outward toward resonating participants,
only to receive their returning energy moments later.

This movement in time is so imperceptibly variable
that — giving in to a wave of enthusiasm —
I’ll risk the claim: the center unravels.
Its outer amniotic waters become a shared body —
a single vibrating body is born.

The whole situation ceases to be a spectacle.
It becomes a state.

A state of experience shared by many at once,
each simultaneously feeding their private, trembling affects.
This pre-religious focus
sends us back to the origins of need,
to its rudimentary quality —
archetypes
which, even if we do not immediately recognize them within,
we nonetheless live with
in a constant alchemical process.

This is voluntary, declared participation.
The body of the community can then become saturated with political togetherness —
not through manifestos or agendas, but through the very act of presence.

This symbolic agency — to be together in sound —
creates a space for nurturing values, for being with one another in concord,
for integration that does not need to explain itself.

It’s not only about boundary-line catharsis.
It’s also about subtler forms of how the affective field operates:
a temporary suspension of defense, the resonance of support,
or even — under the right conditions — quiet forms of resistance.

Because shared listening can be a political gesture.
A body that demands nothing — and yet changes everything.

Perhaps it is sound, as a non-representational medium,
that allows us to act together before we even think to do so.

After all this, something remains — and it isn’t always something you can call a memory. Sometimes it’s a tension in the neck, a quiet impulse in the body you don’t recognize, but you know it’s been there before. Something has been inscribed — maybe not the sound itself, but its presence. A vibration that continues to pass through you long after everything has dispersed. Because that community — though it no longer exists — still resonates somewhere. In the background, in the body, in the rhythm of a day suddenly thrown off course. It doesn’t have to be a visual memory — it’s more like a splinter of energy, a fragment of that state that hasn’t gone out. And even if everything has scattered, it still was — and that was doesn’t let go. Sometimes all it takes is a muscle tightening, a sonic afterimage, and it returns. Not the whole, but the phantom. And we, after all, are composed precisely of such traces. A spectral community still trembles within us — as trace, as micro-empathy, as something that cannot be explained, but is known to have been there.

Sometimes memory disperses the community. At other times, the community remains in the body — as a trace, as somatic memory. It is not about history or precision. It is about an imprint in the tissues, a shadow of experience that doesn’t vanish. It stays — like a soft rupture in breathing, like a tension that evokes something more than a memory. This does not need to be understood.
The memory of bodies that once resonated together transforms into symbolic agency. For a wave — even if it has long gone silent — does not fade. It is from this wave that we can draw: to nurture values, to cultivate integration, but also to sustain micro-resistance. The quiet kind — sensuous, untranslatable into any manifesto.

The emotions that were born there do not end with the concert. They spill into everyday life, expand within the body, flow through gestures. The micropolitics of emotion operates beyond declarations — precisely when the community has dissolved, but left behind a radiating transformation. Then the body remembers, even though everything else has long since changed.

Perhaps it is not always necessary to entangle oneself in resistance, choosing instead a freedom beyond the compulsion of constant conflict. This is not an escape — it may rather be a gesture of self-determination, a replenishing of spirit, a cleansing of the body from social toxins. A readiness for more. Our bodily autonomies deserve more.

Almost at the very end, I would like to speak once more about the power of the phenomenon this text revolves around. Not about its meaning anymore, but about its overpowering presence — the kind that draws one in without asking for consent, yet receives immediate consensus. It happens beyond an act of will, and yet it is accepted — often with great joy. This permanent state of bodily susceptibility does not require conscious consent — it is, as it were, already inscribed in us (excluding here, of course, any deliberate acts of sonic violence, torture, or other forms of oppression).

When I lose control and go blindly, carried by its enthralling energy, I drift through a dream taking place in my tangible reality. In the unconscious lies all the power — an immediate reaction, a bodily response of the flesh-envelope, which allows me to feel. This somnambulistic paradox — dispersing presence — blurs the boundary between the ecstatic sensing of the here and now and the oneiric unreal. It is a state in which we move from conscious declaration, from the will to participate — into an almost hallucinatory introspection, where boundaries no longer serve separation but rather a merging into unity.

This regime may seem somewhat violent — I surrender without a chance to respond, without a way to convey the peaceful assent. But isn't that precisely the process of consensual domination, which I myself postulate, aspiring to threshold experiences — not only transitions I undergo alone, but those traversed together with others? It is the response that becomes the reason preventing me from seeing the sonic experience as anything other than a goal shimmering somewhere on the cognitive horizon of the background, always seducing — even when I’m not thinking about it. That is desire. That is the affirmation of somatic courage.

Notice — not once in this text has the word “ear” appeared, nor “ears.” Even “listening” barely slipped through. That was no accident. I haven’t forgotten the process that makes this entire experience possible — the physical qualities of our bodies that allow us to live through sound.

I deliberately avoided that realm — not to exclude it, but to shift the focus. I spoke of perception through space, through air, through our bodies. Through the experiences inscribed in them, through the body’s readiness to experience. This creates a specific image: the image of performing, trembling air. And that is precisely why — at the very end — I can gladly say: sound is also visible.

This is not a metaphor. Not a conceptualization. Not a symbolic transference. It is a description of ongoing physical processes — each with its own volume, shape, and range.
We are surrounded by forms of agitated gas particles. Let us not forget solid bodies, or liquids — everything that can become a medium for the propagation of an acoustic wave.

This physicality of sound is real. It is part of reality. It is objective. It is not a representation — it is a presence. It is here, with us.

And if someone says: “this is unclear”, you may answer:
because the experience of sound isn’t clear either. It is bodily, it trembles, it is momentary.” So is my text.

Zdjęcie: Szymon Szcześniak
Curatorial text
Artists​