«It’s a lonely world, if you don’t question it and try to fight it.»
Published on April 09, 2019
Last updated on June 27, 2022
Loneliness can feel like isolation, but can also be a positive solitude by keeping distance from the worlds’ chaos.
Episode 2 of the TIMEZONES podcast series, co-initiated and co-produced by Norient and the Goethe-Institut. An electro-acoustic composition based on the interviews with the three artists Mara Miccichè, Branko Džinović, and Vukašin Đelić, the close friends and collaborators of the podcast producer, who have never met each other.
They live in three different cities – Šabac, Belgrade, Zurich. Their stories as well as their sounds, intertwine throughout the piece modified and accompanied by the sounds of the podcast producer, all of them creating an ensemble of voices, sounds, and musical fragments deriving from diverse set of musical practices by each of them.
A podcast by Belgrade-based composer and sound artist Svetlana Maraš
Co-initiated and co-produced by Norient and the Goethe-Institut
Featuring: Mara Miccichè, Branko Džinović, and Vukašin Đelić
Composition, Montage: Svetlana Maraš
Sounds and Words by: Mara Miccichè, Branko Džinović, and Vukašin Đelić
Jingle Voiceover: Nana Akosua Hanson
Mastering: Adi Flück, Centraldubs
Artwork: Šejma Fere
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Branko Džinović is an accordion and bandoneon player born in Šabac, Serbia. He is performer, improviser, and composer. Concert reviewers have called him «a dangerously active volcano» (Austrian Kronen Zeutung) and described his playing as «ingenious» (Neues Volksblatt). He was «Grand Prize» winner at the 2001 Accordion World Cup in London, U.K.; he won the 2004 «Das Podium» in Linz and the 2013 «DMA Recital Competition» at the University of Toronto – both of which are open to all instrumentalists. Džinović holds a Master’s degree from the Anton Bruckner Private University for Music, Drama, and Dance in Linz (MA, 2008) and a Doctor of Musical Arts (DMA, 2017) in performance from the University of Toronto. He currently lives in Šabac.
Vukašin Đelić (Woo) is a guitarist from Belgrade. Member of Dol band and man behind Belgrade Noise Recordings. He has made many significant performances solo and with other people, both in Serbia and internationally. His latest album U zavisnosti od dana, was released in May 2020 and was recorded in his house in Grocka, on the city outskirts. Vukašin lives in Belgrade.
Mara Miccichè is a vocalist and composer from Zurich. She holds Master Of Arts in Music POP from ZhdK (Zurich). She performed internationally at places such as Les Digitales Festival, Zürich (CH), EXPO Milan – Swiss Pavillon, H3K, Basel, Teatro di Locarno and many other places. She is preparing a new release for the OUS, Swiss-based label.
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The TIMEZONES podcast series plunges into the world of artists and their practices, asking: what does living and working in culture and the arts involve in different countries, cities, and contexts today? The artists’ thoughts on their moods, their social, political, and intellectual realities and their philosophies (of life) have been worked up into experimental audio collages.
The podcasts run the gamut of formats and content, from straight journalism to experimental and documentary approaches, ethnography and fiction, sound art, and improvisation. The TIMEZONES series endeavours to create new artistic forms of storytelling, listening and exchange across the boundaries of geography, time zones, genres, and practices.
The TIMEZONES podcast series is co-initiated and co-produced by Norient and the Goethe-Institut.
Published on November 05, 2020
Last updated on October 12, 2023
Why does a Kenyan producer of the instrumental style EDM add vocals to his tracks? This topic is about HOW things are done, not WHAT.
Loneliness can feel like isolation, but can also be a positive solitude by keeping distance from the worlds’ chaos.
Does a crematorium really have worst sounds in the world? Is there a sound free of any symbolic meaning?
In the Japanese «aidoru bunka» (idol culture), grown men kneel down to mimic their infantile stars. When watching Kyoko Miyake's film Tokyo Idols, musicologist Oliver Seibt sees a strong connection between this ritual and the sacred – which has a potential to create a sense of belonging.
According to Emile Durkheim, founding father of French sociology, there is one thing that all religions in the world have in common: the fundamental distinction between the profane and the sacred. As diverse its manifestations in various religions throughout history might be, for him it is the sacred that creates community.
The term «idol» describes a person that is strongly admired. As a technical term in religious studies, it stands for a sacred item being worshipped. There couldn’t be a more suitable term for the social arrangement that originated in Japan in the 1970s as «アイドル文化» («aidoru bunka», idol culture).
It might be true that today’s Japanese consumer society doesn’t shy away from generally fulfilling any thinkable male fantasy, as journalist Minori Kitahara puts it in the documentary Toyko Idols. In light of the behavior exhibited by some of the fans in the film, it appears obvious that pedophile desire fuels the adoration of the very young idols.
Like a Worship Service
However, Kyoko Miyake’s film also shows that it definitely isn’t the only motivation. Kitahara’s claim that the significantly older male fans expect to be loved and accepted by the young girls, without making any efforts, is in obvious contrast to the enormous emotional and bodily work that «otaku» (nerds), like 43-year old Koji, invest into their fandom. For example, the fans of the artist Rio, a «karaoke box», bow down on their knees in front of a huge television set showing their «idol» Rio, the image reminiscent of a worship service, especially when you see them ecstatically singing together and synchronously performing the prescribed dance patterns («para-para») during one of Rio’s live shows.
Rio calls on her fans to «believe», to «make a pilgrimage», and to «pray». She speaks of her followers as «her children», whom she «equally loves». Like a priest who doesn’t favor or reject any of his community members, Rio pays equal attention to all of her fans so that they don’t have to compete for her regard. As a sacred gesture, this has important social implications. At the end of the film, Koji explains that being together with his «brothers» means not having to worry about social distinctions and obligations. If he weren’t part of what he calls «a religion», he would be «alone forever».
Published on January 10, 2019
Last updated on April 30, 2024
Loneliness can feel like isolation, but can also be a positive solitude by keeping distance from the worlds’ chaos.
From Pakistani wrestling practice «kushti» to muezzin singing contests in Turkey.