Luca Trevisani, AMAZOOM, 2025

AMAZOOM proposes to the listener two hypotheses of landscape reincarnation, two translations, two strict, entropic protocols of imagination.
“What can’t be expressed in color in the dark, in the jungle night becomes a concert. The decibel race in the blackness of the Amazon forest leaves no escape: without earplugs, sleeping is decidedly impossible. It’s a sonic vertigo, a primordial voice that envelops and captivates. The only antidote that I could think of, partly to try to resist despair, but perhaps even more to immerse myself in the song of that teeming life, was to try to describe its voices, its tones, its nuances. So, I turned on my computer and I tried to transcribe every sound that passed through me, becoming a stenographer in service of that excessive concert.”  For this record Trevisani performed his text score, creating hundreds of scattered sounds, overlapping and coexisting, until they jammed into a jungle for a screen (Side A). Then, linking each to a key on his PC keyboard, he typed the text -or rather, he played it – turning his laptop into an improbable but perfectly exact musical instrument, a ramshackle noise machine for a domestic wild nature taking shape around, within, and above his desk: keyboard forest (Side B).

A: giungla da schermo (15:38)

B: foresta da tastiera (9:40)

Listen to excerpts