I tell the story of silence through photography. Inspired by a piece by John Cage 4'33" - Its score could be white sheets of paper.
Silence in music, which has its own weight and volume, is important because it creates space for emotions to resound. The non-acoustic silence, the silence of the inner landscape, as a state of consciousness, is the one that directs us towards ourselves. The silence of the silent cosmos, the harmony of the spheres so perfect that we are unable to hear it.
This is how silence became the central theme of my photographic quest. The three photographs I took are inextricably linked to the reflections on silence that I had with myself.
Silence as an essential element of music
Quite a few studies have already been written on the importance of silence as an essential element of a musical work. However, it is not what has been written that is important, but the fact that as a music lover, on the occasion of the "White Sheet" project I did at the Karol Krukowski School of Photography, I began to think about this issue - not in scientific, musicological terms, but as myself, a music viewer.
What is silence in music for me? It is important to the extent that its discovery as an essential element for the reception of music becomes a revelation. After all, it is in silence that "near-musical" emotions resound; it is a place to add to what the music does not directly convey. It has a weight and volume appropriately chosen by the composer. It can have its own density, timbre and even temperature. It places itself on the timeline of the piece's performance in many places. It can be pre-musical, provide the inner fabric on which dramatic accents are stretched, and finally, post-musical, it gives space for the listener to experience often extreme emotions. Silence, being the inaudible voice of music, also has its proportions in relation to the sound elements of the piece.
Finally, I longed to see silence as a physical object. Since it yielded to such a thought experiment - I could reduce it to an entity measurable by scientific instruments on a macro scale - that is, it must exist physically. I found it in the Augustinian monastery in Krakow. Silence lies motionless in the cloisters, waiting to be used again during a concert. This is one of those places where the silence near-music touches me very intensely. More than once I have had the opportunity to listen to extraordinary performances in this very place.
The silence of the interior landscape
It is a kind of silence that is a state of consciousness for me. It is the inaudible voice of spiritual music. Extra-acoustic and non-physical. Associated with moments of achieving inner harmony and peace. Like Boeotian musica humana. Directing towards itself, towards the interior - the silence of contemplation. It is exceptionally silent. But at the same time it does not demand any acoustic additions. In such states one just happens to be. Sometimes. Unless one is in a place that is outside of time and outside of the reality that surrounds most of us. In a place where this silence is a daily occurrence, but not a routine. It is a space where one can have an honest dialogue with oneself, unhurriedly. Despite appearances, this is not always a comfortable situation. Such a place for me is the monastery of the Camaldolese Fathers in Bielany in Cracow.
The silence of the universe's harmony
An almost self-evident fact. After all, in space sounds cannot propagate. There is total silence there. And yet, following Pythagoras, one would like to hear the wonderful music of the spheres. However, this is an experience inaccessible to us. And so it will remain. This eternal silence of the cosmos resounds in me and fills me with fear, but also excitement. A polyphony of extreme emotions plays there, inside. I often go for a walk or jog in the nearby forest. Just before dark, the mound that sits in that forest has always evoked one strong association in me. It looks in its majestic outline in the darkness like a majestic spaceship landing in penetrating silence. Maybe the flying saucer will actually land someday and someone or something arriving with it will allow me to hear this harmony of the spheres. Maybe it will be, in spite of Pythagoras, a completely new and unprecedented experience of silence, rather than music in the literal sense? I would like to solve this riddle someday.
