As water flows, as wind blows, as the earth moves, as noise is sent through the aether, as heat dissipates in the circuitry, all humming through the speakers: Nature is the origin of Kayn's music, dissolving the inate drive of composition to triumph over chance.
Streched across three nights, a descent from D₄♭ down to the lowest note of the Imperial Bösendorfer, the "Rolls-Royce of pianos". An end point of all, the body as an instrument, performance as self-destruction.
Joyous, pointillistic, creaking, clicking and clacking (and coughing), as it ought to be.