Moonsay 月聞

Moonsay begins with the question: What does memory sound like—and how can sound become a site of resistance?

At the core of the performance is a growing archive of racist arson attacks in Germany, documented by the project Brandmuster by visual researcher Joel Schülin (Forensic Architecture). On this basis, Hang Su develops a sonic-artistic response: a performance in which everyday objects such as clothes-drying racks and poster tubes become fragile sound bodies. Their sounds tell of violence, of memory—but also of solidarity.

The moon serves as the central symbol: in Chinese culture it stands for separation and longing, but also for connection across distances. In the performance, moon photographs encounter sound and cartographic material of the arson attacks, merging into a new poetic space of remembrance that exists beyond national borders. Moonsay is not a conventional concert but an immersive listening experience that combines sound, projection, and political poetry; a memorial of light, sound, and memory.

>>structure

Part 1 (20 minutes)

The central elements of the first part are five clothes-drying racks and five poster tubes. Five musicians play the racks with bows, using the “strings” of the racks to produce sound. With the help of contact microphones, the sounds of the drying racks are amplified and made audible, revealing unexpected sonic qualities.

Composer Hang Su works both with the deep frequencies of the drying racks and with almost virtuoso overtone spectra, which are coaxed from the instruments using the poster tubes as a kind of “bottleneck.” The five drying racks are arranged in a semicircle in the space and each is assigned to a loudspeaker. This creates an immersive sound experience that evokes associations with the background noise of a radio telescope as well as threatening, horror-film-like sounds.

© Oliver Espace

© Oliver Espace

© Oliver Espace / Darya Kawa

Part 2 (10 minutes)

At the center of Part 2 is a large moon photograph by the astrophotographer Darya Kawa. Printed on 368 DIN B4 sheets, this photograph—measuring 5.68 m × 5.75 m—is laid out in the middle of the semicircle formed by the clothes-drying racks. On 30 of these sheets, data documenting arson attacks on the homes of migrant people are printed.

In a silent performance, these sheets are then turned over one by one by the musicians, shown to the audience, and placed along the edge of the moon photograph. This wordless process is intended to represent the painful memory of these arson attacks and to give the audience space for reflection on what has just been heard and seen.