Creed IX: Descended to the realm of death
2011
Oil on canvas
120 x 120 cm

Descended to the realm of death
from the perspective of a composer

On the rather dark winter days, which invite me to an inner contemplation, I often enter into a silent dialogue between images and sounds. The image Descended to the realm of death casts a spell over me. In my mind’s eye, a simple staircase opens up, leading into the depths – into the darkness, whose destination and meaning lie in the unknown. The symbolism of this scene is unmistakable and yet profound. The simple form of the staircase provokes me, challenging and perhaps even a little accusing. It symbolises more than just a way down; it is a transition that leads into the depths of experience, where light and darkness unite.

As a composer, I find it easier to express the effect of this painting in sounds than to describe it in words. It is a personal journey in which colours, shapes and structures become sounds that open up a new space of perception. It is like searching for a sound that reflects the depth and fears of darkness, but also the hope that lies in the unknown. What is particularly striking for me is the overwhelming amount of darkness, and yet a flaming light on the surface. For me, this light seems like an invitation to let go. It almost forces me to let go of the past in order to find the courage to embark on a new, uncertain path.

For me, the organ, whose sound is brought to life by air alone, is a powerful symbol of breath – of life itself. Its deep, sometimes threatening sound becomes a companion on the metaphorical stairway into the unknown. When the air fades, the sound dies, and this fading can be consciously used for the artistic expression of the ephemeral, the inevitable end. In this interplay of sound and silence, of life and decay, image and music merge into an experience that transcends words and leads to deeper levels of perception.

And at the end? Standstill. Lingering. A moment that knows neither beginning nor end – like a breath that is suspended. A strange tension unfolds in this in-between space, a feeling of waiting without knowing what for.

Text by Sebastian Bartmann