Luna Pearl Woolf – When you least expect it

I have the edge of an idea. Something that intrigues me about the instrument is its ability to amplify in motion the elements of sound.  So I am thinking of a wordless story, something primal, like a fable or morality tale, told in three layers simultaneously – the musical, the physical, and then the instrument itself as a shape-changing character – both in the ear and in the player’s relationship to it. For an opening I am imagining you sitting or lying on the floor, the t-stick, above you, looking and sounding like a trickling rain stick.  The “rain” gets more and more intense until you are cowering under a colossal storm, the t-stick raging.

Leaning toward a single dramatic sweep, for example, the gentle rain idea, transforming to torrential storm, transforming again perhaps. Posing the former as metaphor, toward the gesture you describe. Closing sounds would resemble the tiniest rainstick sounds, but made human – between the  cooing of an infant and the semi-sleeping-nuzzle of a lover.  (Luna Pearl Woolf)

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