PROGREDERE: NOTES ON TWO MOVEMENTS

Vinyl Release

"Each side carries its own energy—one shaped by collaboration and performance, the other by memory and re-encounter”

Two Movements

Progredere is a record about time. Not just the passage of it, but the sense of it—how sound can hold it, stretch it, bury it, or return us to it. Each side (Intervīvium and Movere) came from very different places in my practice, but somehow they’ve found each other here. Together they sit quietly in dialogue, sharing an interest in listening as an active, durational thing.

Side A: Intervīvium

Originally composed for the 2021 theatre production If The Bull Won’t Come, Intervīvium emerged from a close collaboration with choreographer Adi Weinberg and dramaturge Cat Gerrard. Premiered at Fabrik in Potsdam, Germany, the work was conceived as a sonic counterpoint to the body—a score not in service of choreography, but in conversation with it.

Stripped of stage, Intervīvium still moves like theatre. It holds tension, breath, pacing. Its fragments of tone and texture don’t direct, but suggest, each one an invitation into spatial awareness. In this context, the piece takes on a second life as an installation-like listening experience, where time slows and sound reveals itself as atmosphere rather than event.

Side B: Movere

Movere is a different kind of movement—less theatrical, more archaeological. Composed from recordings and improvisations spanning 2010 to 2018, the piece was never meant to cohere. It was a palette, a sketchbook, a scattering of sonic thoughts. But in late 2024, it resurfaced. And what once felt unfinished began to resonate with new intention.

There’s a quiet unfolding here. Movere plays with impermanence, tape hiss, outdoor air, room tone. It’s a work shaped by accretion and erosion. By listening again, by re-entering material long set aside, the piece finds form not through design but through return. What was once fragmentary becomes whole in its unresolved state.

Vinyl

Releasing this as a vinyl record was important to me because of what the format demands from the listener, and from me. A record insists on time. It needs to be held, flipped, tended to. That kind of listening feels aligned with what this work asks for: presence, patience, attention to texture and decay.

Each side carries its own energy, one shaped by collaboration and performance, the other by memory and re-encounter. But they share a kind of slowness, a desire to sit with what emerges rather than push it forward.

RELEASE INFO