Imagine a dimly lit setting composed of 13 loudspeakers and sand on the floor. In this space, sounds seem to emanate from all directions.
The sounds are characterized by a marked temporal offset. There are collisions, distortions, and moments of asynchrony that stand out at specific intervals. However, this lack of synchronization is not a flaw but an intentional element that defines the dynamics of the work.
Each set of sounds differs in duration, as well as in their starting and ending points. This ensures that each listening experience is unique, as it arises from the combination of tracks played at different moments.
Epiphany consists of two main tracks that serve as guides and eleven secondary tracks. Despite this classification, there is no hierarchy among the tracks, as all hold equal importance within the work.
The track durations are as follows:
Track A and Track B (main): 14 minutes
Tracks 1 and 2: 13 minutes, 50 seconds
Tracks 3 and 4: 13 minutes, 49 seconds
Tracks 5 and 6: 13 minutes, 48 seconds
Tracks 7 and 8: 13 minutes, 47 seconds
Tracks 9 and 10: 13 minutes, 46 seconds
The sounds are meticulously arranged in time. For instance, in the main tracks, 34 notes are distributed between seconds 13 and 21; similarly, between seconds 34 and 55, there are also 34 notes. This pattern is deliberately repeated, reflecting a precise structure.
Likewise, silences are carefully organized. In the main tracks, there are 5 seconds of silence between seconds 8 and 13, and 13 seconds of silence between seconds 21 and 34, and so on. There are two types of silences: those separating the main voices and those associated with the other tracks.
Both sounds and silences are grouped into "entities, occurrences and events" that are concentrated at the extremes—the beginning and the end—of each sound or silence series. These elements, along with the overall structure of the work, adhere to the golden ratio derived from the Fibonacci sequence. Thanks to these proportions, the work can expand or contract infinitely without losing its essence. During its progression, the composition undergoes two cycles of expansion and contraction per iteration, with the two main voices serving as fundamental axes. Consequently, once initiated, the work has the capacity to continue indefinitely, with a perpetual flow.
Entities are the fundamental components that make up a work. They have their own life and can be easily identified. In the world we inhabit, entities appear in specific forms, such as a person or a pet, and in abstract forms, like an idea or a formula. However, deeper reflection leads us to question whether these two forms are truly opposites, or if they are expressions of the same essence. For example, when I think of a person, what comes to mind is not the person themselves, but a mental representation of them—a concept that captures their essence.
This suggests a unity between the abstract and the specific: what seems to be a concrete entity could simply be a tangible manifestation of an abstract idea. At the same time, abstract ideas appropriate our specific experiences. For instance, a person has concrete characteristics, such as their name, appearance, or behavior, but is also associated with a series of abstract concepts, like memories, feelings, or ideas we associate with them. In this sense, the abstract and the specific intertwine, coexist, and constantly redefine one another.
The relationship between the abstract and the specific is deeply influenced by the observer or interpreter. The perception of an entity can vary depending on personal experience, cultural context, and how we define its attributes. For instance, a musical score can be seen as a set of abstract symbols that, when interpreted, transform into specific sounds. In this way, entities are neither static nor immutable; their nature changes depending on how we interact with them and the context in which they exist.
Entities also serve as a link between the abstract and the concrete. They act as a bridge that allows elements of the physical world to enrich our experience with abstract meanings. For example, a pet has a tangible existence in the physical world, but our relationship with it is amplified through abstract concepts such as loyalty, affection, and love. This phenomenon can be linked to Carl Gustav Jung’s concept of the archetype, which describes how universal abstract forms take shape in our minds as specific images or ideas.
When we think of a "dog," our mind evokes an abstract idea of what a dog is. However, when thinking of "Lluna," my little dog, the entity becomes specific and transforms into a construct that encapsulates unique experiences, emotions, and attributes far beyond the initial idea.
Far from being static, entities are in constant transformation. In line with Alfred North Whitehead's philosophy of process, entities are not immutable facts but dynamic processes that continuously evolve and redefine themselves. This is particularly evident in music, where entities transcend what is written. In this way, a score, for example, is not just a formal system of symbols but becomes a starting point enriched by interpretation, cultural context, and the subjectivity of the listener.
Because in music, just as in all arts, entities are meant to remain incomplete and contain infinite complexity within a finite and self-referential framework.
A score will never be able to contain everything that music can become; its essence unfolds in interpretation, in the temporal and cultural moment of its performance, and in the subjective experience of each listener.
This concept is captured in Kurt Gödel’s incompleteness theorems, which demonstrate that no formal system can be completely self-sufficient or exhaustive. In music, as in any other formal system, there are always open truths and meanings that go far beyond the explicit, creating space for uncertainty and transcendence.
Occurrences are dynamic processes in which entities are shaped, interact, and transform one another. They constitute key moments that impact a context where the abstract and the specific converge in a concrete but unfinished expression, always leaving open the possibility of future occurrences. From Whitehead’s philosophy of process, occurrences are more significant than "things" because they represent a continuous flow of transformation—an opportunity for the abstract to materialize into the specific and for the relationships between the observer and the work to constantly redefine themselves.
In this sense, occurrences are specific to each time and place. They unfold formal systems (such as a score, a painting, or a sculpture) in unique and unpredictable ways. Beyond the concrete work, there exists a dimension that transcends it, an open space for interpretation and the creation of new meanings. This interpretive nature ensures that works do not remain static; over time, their meaning evolves, reflecting the transformations of the context and the experiences of the viewer.
Although occurrences have a cause, development, and consequences, they are deeply subjective. The same work—musical, sculptural, pictorial, or of any other kind—becomes a different event for each person, depending on their context, emotions, and personal experiences. This subjective component has a powerful transformative effect: the occurrence can alter not only the perception of the world surrounding the observer but also their self-understanding. For example, the experience of listening to John Cage’s 4'33" redefines our conception of music, focusing on individual perception, silence, and chance, and invites us to reconsider our relationship with sound and the environment.
An event is an occurrence or action that happens at a specific time and place, unfolding within the broader flow of a work or an event. Unlike events, which have greater transcendence and dynamism, incidents are punctual and concrete manifestations that, although ephemeral, form an integral part of the global system. These events are anchored to a defined moment and relate to other elements that make up the same event, functioning as milestones that mark its progress.
The perception of an event is deeply subjective and contextual. Its impact and meaning vary depending on the emotions, experiences, perspectives, and culture of the one who experiences it. Therefore, the same event can evoke opposite sensations: a specific detail in a painting, a particular color, or a musical note can evoke joy in one person and sadness in another, depending on their history and emotional state.
From a temporal perspective, events are the points where the inertia of the event becomes concrete and tangible. Each event contributes to the total form of the event, but it neither exhausts nor concludes it, as events remain open and in constant evolution. This accumulation of events constructs the experience of the event as something dynamic and unfinished, always leaving room for new interpretations and meanings.
As mentioned, the work features two main tracks that are duplicated. While the groups of notes in these tracks are symmetrical, they have been altered following a specific sequence:
Moreover, in the analysis of main track A, the series of musical events are distributed among the following groups:
Group 1: 3 to 5 (2 seconds)
Group 2: 5 to 8 (3 seconds)
Group 3: 8 to 13 (5 seconds)
Group 4: 13 to 21 (8 seconds)
Group 5: 21 to 34 (13 seconds)
Group 6: 34 to 55 (21 seconds)
Group 7: 55 to 89 (34 seconds)
Group 8: 144 to 178 (34 seconds)
Group 9: 178 to 233 (55 seconds)
Group 10: 322 to 356 (34 seconds)
Group 11: 356 to 377 (21 seconds)
Group 12: 377 to 390 (13 seconds)
Group 13: 390 to 398 (8 seconds)
Group 14: 398 to 403 (5 seconds)
Group 15: 403 to 406 (3 seconds)
Group 16: 406 to 408 (2 seconds)
The work is designed to be performed through 13 loudspeakers, complemented by an additional track that reproduces the sound of sand being stepped on by the audience using piezoelectric sensors.
But, in the end, it is impossible to define events, and it is in that space of the undefined where the truth that generates my uncertainty lies.