And it's going to change everything for you. In Calcata Vecchia, an artists’ colony about sixty miles from Rome, there is a cave nestled inside a hill that was excavated by the ancient Etruscans. Housed within the cave is the Grotta Sonora, or sound cave, truly one of the most remarkable places in Italy. Despite living in Calcata Vecchia for two years, we stumbled upon it quite by accident, and the experience of hearing new, harmonically exquisite, otherworldly sounds—music made with gongs, harp bowls, and handmade experimental instruments—has never left me.
I may be a decent enough writer, but I'm also a reasonably competent guitarist. I can still remember the first time I heard Spandau Ballet's "Through The Barricades" over a pair of Bose headphones. Though the song never got any traction in the US, it was huge in England. It grabbed me by the heart from the first note and held me tight until the very last. I'm currently learning how to play it on my acoustic guitar, which is really something of a sonic crime- the equivalent of losing your virginity to the Swedish Bikini Team and then taking a vow of chastity.
As I'm writing this, I'm listening to it again, and...amazing....
Nothing so dramatic as what you describe here, but I did have an amazing experience with sound and music once.
The first weekend of every October, there is a mini-Ren Faire at "Stronghold Castle" (see link below.) It is populated by many people and performers familiar from the vastly larger Bristol faire, just over the line in Wisconsin.
Well, one weekend it rained. And Rained. And Rained.
Not hard, but relentlessly. So performers all moved inside, and shows that would have taken place in a glade were now happening in a stairwell.
It was magical.
You had no idea what you might encounter turning a corner. All the walls were "live" (which is to say, nothing muffled or softened the echo). Yet the structure would stop sound almost like a switch was thrown for turning a corner or closing a door. It felt like you'd never be able to recreate those experiences ever again, in no small part because it was all improvised, and this was the "first" time for those of us wandering the castle and grounds.
I somehow got kidnapped and then lost into the screwy and vast realm of reverb within the past 20 months. Before that I was playing piano, purely, wondering where a musical life would take me, ultimately. Practice, write, record, perform, mingle with the giant family of music. Joy and challenge always await. Now I have the blissful responsibility of kidnapping others and taking them to these cave sounds. I leapfrogged through endless reverb options only to find beauty and simple vibration and (uber)tone!! Thank you for all your lovely and enduring work
I may be a decent enough writer, but I'm also a reasonably competent guitarist. I can still remember the first time I heard Spandau Ballet's "Through The Barricades" over a pair of Bose headphones. Though the song never got any traction in the US, it was huge in England. It grabbed me by the heart from the first note and held me tight until the very last. I'm currently learning how to play it on my acoustic guitar, which is really something of a sonic crime- the equivalent of losing your virginity to the Swedish Bikini Team and then taking a vow of chastity.
As I'm writing this, I'm listening to it again, and...amazing....
Nothing so dramatic as what you describe here, but I did have an amazing experience with sound and music once.
The first weekend of every October, there is a mini-Ren Faire at "Stronghold Castle" (see link below.) It is populated by many people and performers familiar from the vastly larger Bristol faire, just over the line in Wisconsin.
Well, one weekend it rained. And Rained. And Rained.
Not hard, but relentlessly. So performers all moved inside, and shows that would have taken place in a glade were now happening in a stairwell.
It was magical.
You had no idea what you might encounter turning a corner. All the walls were "live" (which is to say, nothing muffled or softened the echo). Yet the structure would stop sound almost like a switch was thrown for turning a corner or closing a door. It felt like you'd never be able to recreate those experiences ever again, in no small part because it was all improvised, and this was the "first" time for those of us wandering the castle and grounds.
I somehow got kidnapped and then lost into the screwy and vast realm of reverb within the past 20 months. Before that I was playing piano, purely, wondering where a musical life would take me, ultimately. Practice, write, record, perform, mingle with the giant family of music. Joy and challenge always await. Now I have the blissful responsibility of kidnapping others and taking them to these cave sounds. I leapfrogged through endless reverb options only to find beauty and simple vibration and (uber)tone!! Thank you for all your lovely and enduring work