About Sunday morning church bells

No church bells this morning. Due to COVID-19 where I live the churches are closed. No need to call in the people. Luckily thick raindrops and hail fell down on my window surprising me whilst still laying in bed. If there had just been some thunder and wind…

Thunder is no subtle instrument of nature. It keeps everyone and everything on its toes, so does hail. But since I was awake I was up for an adventure. However; wind to me is like snow. When snow falls down it covers everything up to become one. All objects, details and elements become less relevant: they become the carrier of snow, that’s all. And snow absorbs sound, throwing a blanket over noise.

I love the sound of wind, it too covers up noise. At daytime you can see the trees shake but at night, unlike snow, you can’t see much touched by wind. You have to listen. Wind behaves like waves: the intensity of the wind increases, falls still and comes back again.

When noise is muted by wind you become more aware of yourself. All around you is fireworks, a bit frightening maybe or thrilling for some, but it is just one element and you are part of it.

I combined church bells with faint waves of wind to create a work that is ominous and peaceful at the same time. My aim was to let you go inwards, to be cut off from your surroundings and experience a dreamlike sphere.

I used “Nearby church bells” for various installations and exhibitions. It worked wonderfully. People felt spiritual: wanting to light candles for loved ones or started to pray. Yet again, I am not a religious person, I am merely a stranger playing with tools I hardly understand. But I do apprehend the power of art and I take it very seriously.

Go to OpenSea to listen to Nearby church bells