Less Is Sound, Vol. 3

The third installment of the Less is Sound series continues to document soundscapes at hidden natural locations around the periphery of Bratislava. Less is Sound vol.3 took place on September 9th 2024, under the sharp morning sun at Starohájsky Ostrov—one of the few remaining, and relatively forgotten, pieces of uncultivated nature around Slovakia's capital. This primeval stretch of the Danube floodplain is home to nearly fifty species of birds.

This album brings together both debuting and established artists, and is framed by the shifting of sonic perspectives as a practice that enhances sensitivity towards one's surroundings and touches on the complexity of interspecies relationality.

The album opens with Richard Hronský and Krištof Krupa's stripped-down, minimalist reinterpretation of the traditional Slovak elderwood fujara. The raw sounds of this large shepherd's overtone flute are complemented by bird chirps and subtle bass layers, culturally orienting the piece in its geographical location while also demonstrating new meanings and constant evolution of the instrument; a reminder that change is the only constant for musician and nature alike.

Jonáš Gruska, inspired by his participatory performance for the kinetic Axis Mundi Sound Distribution System, works within a dynamic composition that uses bat-inspired ultrasound elements as its basis. By decentralizing the human from the creative process, the piece reveals sonic worlds that are otherwise hard (nay impossible) for us to access. The slowed-down playback of this digital version unveils further hidden layers.

Daniel Kordík's introduces an element of electronic biomimicry, where analog electronics resemble living, more-than-human organisms, or evoke mycelium growing through patch cables. The piece is a perspective re-assessing reminder that human technology has always relied on emulating nature.

Line Gate shifts the mood back into the acoustic realm. His vocal work echoes the sound of wind moving through the forest's treetops. He keeps the piece authentically raw—one can even hear the crank of his hurdy-gurdy, which transcribes the mellow light over Starohájsky Ostrov into a meditative sonic imprint.

The final track conjoins the Sakha harp (chomus – a form of Jaw Harp) played by Aldana Duoraan with gentle acoustic guitar by Tomáš Niesner. Drawing from some more traditional compositional structures, within the album's unconventional perspective, the piece expands on the ideas of decentralization of the human. Intuitively played amid the trees, the piece paradoxically serves as a reminder that we remain a part of nature—even though artificial divisions try to convince us otherwise.