sciss disintegrates into three pieces - stone cistern / iridescent shadows / silence. looking reverse: someone asks him if silence has any importance? despite using it sparsely inside the music, it dominates before and after each piece, like a dream of unchanged content but ever changing circumstances. someone else in charge of an acedemic position wouldn't appreciate that noise as a shadow of our movements and gesture encapsulates the richness of all colour and can be satisfying though all tone being absent. sciss says: »i don't care what a human being can communicate to another human being. sometimes i really fall asleep, sometimes the daylight was discoloured when i opened the eyes.« he cannot get rid of the utopia that music could recall the first dawn of time. that one was azoic, before men began to crawl around, a universe of sounding things of which we have no knowledge, except that there is no similarity to the human nature. an attempt to lure the demons out of their stones by alchemist means of fusing microphony and computer based sound transformation. he's hanging a microphone out of the window, silently remains near the frame for about fortyfive minutes, then goes to sleep. not really because of the rain but because of the wish that unforseen things may happen. in fact, the following day the water has created a frozen mirror of tarnished glass. gradually, making use of the computer, the past is rewritten. the conceptual voice of the pieces is both preceding and succeeding them, but inbetween, during the process remains silent. it would otherwise destroy the sensuality of the surface. at some point, one of those pieces is being isolated and starts to drift to the other side. a floe, a garden of darkness, stillness, requesting a certain adaptation of the eyes.