Between Machines and Wood

-Where would you say your journey in music really started? Was it formal education, childhood, maybe?

AT: It started in childhood, yes. I grew up in the Austrian countryside, surrounded by traditional Austrian music, completely isolated from what was happening outside the village or the region. My brother played in a local folk music band. I was around ten or eleven years old when they needed a bass player, so I stepped in. We played at weddings and similar events, mostly as a cover band. That was probably my first real experience making music.

Later, when I was around 16, a friend moved from Vienna to the village where I lived. He listened to a lot of heavy metal – Machine Head, Slayer, and that kind of thing. From one day to the next, I started playing in a metal band, initially as a drummer. After that, I did another project that was more in the direction of trip hop. Over the years, I was involved in many different things. At some point, I studied musicology and, for a short period, jazz bass in Vienna. During my musicology studies, I met people who were involved in experimental music, and I think that’s more or less how my path developed.

-What would you consider the core principles or fundamentals of your work, and are there any ongoing patterns or themes that have stayed from the beginning till now?

AT: I work with self-developed sound generators, modified everyday objects, plants, and at times ice. Many of my sound-producing systems are based on rotation, vibration, feedback, and other time-based or performative mechanisms.

Central to my practice is the relationship between structure, process, and materiality, with space, architecture, movement, and timbre functioning as key artistic parameters. There is often a focus on physical sound production and self-built setups that create unexpected sounds, which often appear electronic or electronically generated.

In recent years, my practice has increasingly moved towards conceptual compositions and sound installations, with an experimental and research-oriented approach.

-So the aesthetic aspect of your performances is as important as sound?

AT: I think it’s very important – yes, definitely. When you go to a concert, nobody keeps their eyes closed the whole time. Maybe for a few minutes, but not throughout. It’s not just about listening; the visual aspect opens up the imagination, just like the music itself.

If it’s only a computer, the visual layer is often less relevant. But as soon as something is physical, it becomes part of the experience.

I try to treat everything on the same level – sound, visuals, and concept – and balance it like on a mixer.

-Throughout your career, you have used all kinds of self-made or prepared instruments. What draws you to these unconventional sound sources?

AT: What drives me is the urge to explore. I want to discover how things sound when I experiment, letting the results surprise me. It’s a sense of curiosity, a bit like a child before it learns what is “normal” or what is not allowed. Through my work, I sometimes try to bring the audience into that state of openness, to experience something for the first time.

For example, with the turntable I’ve been using here at the residency: it wasn’t the first version. There were earlier iterations, and at some point I thought, “Maybe I can find patterns or rhythms in there.” This ongoing exploration is what keeps me moving forward.

-You recently performed at the modern music festival Decibels in Riga with your mechanical wooden turntables and a string quartet from Sinfonietta Riga. Could you explain how you ended up in Latvia with this project, and how the performance went?

AT: I first came to Riga two years ago. After an intensive period of projects, I had some time off in June and thought: “I’ll just go somewhere without concrete work plans and see what happens there.” I went to a concert by Anna Fišere, whom I know through the platform Shape (for innovative music and interdisciplinary art), and also visited the festival Skaņu Mežs. There she introduced me to many people, including Armands from the Sansusī Festival, where I later premiered a larger installation with rotating flutes and choir in the forest.
Anna later became curator of Decibels and invited me to perform there.

The collaboration with the highly skilled Sinfonietta Riga was both demanding and very rewarding. I prepared a graphical score and did a sound simulation on the computer to communicate the concept. In two rehearsals, we worked through extended techniques and structural ideas.

It required a very high level of concentration, as I had to keep all layers in mind simultaneously – performance, composition, and installation. At times I thought it would be interesting to be directly connected to each musician, controlling every gesture in real time.

-Can you explain your setup - what instruments are you using, and what’s going on?

AT: What I’m doing here is a continuation of the same idea. I wouldn’t say the synthesizer replaces the string quartet, but there is a shift in how control and sound production are approached.
As I mentioned earlier, I was interested in what it would mean to control every moment of a performance. With a synthesizer, sound becomes more directly accessible and controllable in a different way. I hadn’t worked with synthesizers before, but I found it very inspiring.

I try not to get lost in the possibilities, but instead focus on the essential idea – the soundscape I have in mind. I work with very few parameters, sometimes even just one preset, and then adjust details such as speed, color, or density.

I treat the Pērkons HD-01 in a similar way to my turntables, mainly working with speed and textural transformation. The key difference is volume control – with the turntables, sound becomes more intense as it gets louder due to increased pressure of the branches on the wooden surface, whereas with the synthesizer I can maintain timbre while changing dynamics.

It becomes a kind of collaboration between wood and synthesizer – a symbiosis of organic and electronic sound sources. My setup consists of five sound sources: three turntables and two drum machines. All of them are controlled through speed, forming a shared sonic system where small changes in detail become the main focus.

-Are there any elements or techniques you’ve adopted during the residency that you’d like to carry forward?

AT: Yes, definitely. Working with synthesizers has also been a kind of relief for me. With my mechanical setups – including the self-built wooden turntables – sound emerges through physical interaction and continuous adjustment. It’s very hands-on and requires constant attention.

With a synthesizer, sound can be reached more quickly and approached in a different way. It’s a different relationship, because you can rely more on the system itself.

I’m thinking about developing a setup that integrates synthesizers or machines while still working with speed – and exploring it further until it merges with the sound itself. That would be an interesting next step for me.

-How did you enjoy Riga? Did you have a chance to experience the local music scene?

AT: Yes, I actually visited a lot of different places. What I really liked was the strong connection between different disciplines – from classical composers to Erica Synths, photography, the Skaņu Mežs festival, and the wonderful Baltic Analog Lab. There is a lot of mutual support, and that feels very good. I know only a few cities where you can feel this kind of connection so strongly.