A satellite solo. A struggle to locate oneself.
"...And man to man down upon earth
As planet to planet above."
(Rachel Blowstein, 1928)
I'm listening to "The Planets" (1917), a monumental orchestral piece by the British composer Gustav Holst. Can you hear it through me? It transforms into words, images, movement. I try to listen even deeper and hear the artist who composed it while living through a brutal war in which he was not involved. His music transforms into matter in motion on stage - it circles, distorts, disappears and reappears. I listen again and hear his attempt to grapple with a system so much more powerful than himself, and to wish for perspective and distance from the violence and despair of his own kind. His music becomes a vehicle with which I can travel far into the far reaches of the universe, where it fades beyond the threshold of perception.
Listening to the Planets interweaves a personal diary of the performer with historical research about a composer and abstract images derived from the exploration of satellites, constellations, interstellar communication and delay.