Jorinde Voigt
Jorinde Voigt
While the craft of classical music courts notoriety for its mathematical complexity, its interpreters often express themselves in literary rambunctiousness and visual cues, relishing in matching timbres with colors, flourishing upon movements hippos and dancing flora a la Fantasia. Floating above the soup of sentiments, Jorinde Voigt charts soundscapes according to an invented emotional notation, you can say. The result is the elegant Ludwig van Beethoveen Sonata 1 -32 (2012), a series of drawings based on the master’s sonatas that belies the intellectualism underlying its creation, surging with an animal vitality akin to a building wave or a starling murmuration. Voigt’s method is complex, with a sonata’s schematics centrifuging from the central axis while contingent details–for example, are ‘geographical or social’–radiate at the outskirts. Her codification doesn’t limit itself to classical music, and the artist de- and reconstructs with characteristic meticulousness chinese erotica and Goethe’s Faust. Her opus represents a uniquely Voigtian language that while skating at novelty’s edge, maintain discipline enough to come across as effortless synesthesia as the best of Cy Twombly or Arshile Gorky.
There have been odd attempts on Adolf Wölfi’s or John Cage’s compositions: fitful, always different. How would you play Voigt’s drawings? On my part, I would really like to see her take on Berlin techno.
