Early Rhythms
It’s fascinating to think that our relationship with sound has roots we all share. Before birth, we’re tuning into rhythm through our mother’s heartbeat—a soft, steady pulse that subtly shapes our earliest sense of timing, vibration, and awareness. It’s our first experience with sound we carry with us that quietly influences how we relate to the world.
When I think about my personal relationship with music and sound, I must start with listening. As the youngest of three, I grew up surrounded by sounds. While my older sister practiced piano, I’d join in from the next room, adding my voice to the mix and feeling part of the “band.” Showered with shifting harmonies, it felt natural to build my own lines on the foundation of what I heard was already there. Luckily, some pieces required lots of repetition—it created a live “singback” that I could join over and over again.
This is how singing became my way to connect, to communicate, and to feel in sync with those around me. Even when I eventually started my own piano lessons, voice remained my truest instrument, grounding my love for music. Ever since, for me, singing has been deeply linked to listening.
Photo: John Grönvall 2012.
Listening as an Act of Connection
In 2016, I traveled to Australia to speak at a multidisciplinary seminar called Art as Meaning: Redefining Communication at UNSW, Sydney. My presentation focused on the role of sound in process-oriented art and the ways we connect with each other through collective improvisation, inspired by our uninterrupted improvisation session Sound Span: Underwater with Sound Illustrators. In my talk, I explored the idea of connecting through listening, the relationship between sound itself and how it resonates with each of us.
At the heart of collective improvisation lies the art of not knowing. It invites you to let go while also stepping forward, creating a shared space through attentive listening. Here, the focus isn’t on the end result but on the dialogue between each note, with endless possibilities to roam, to interact, and blend.
Echoes of Belonging
Listening as a practice in attention, invites us to engage fully with our environment and understand our place within it. We live in an increasingly layered soundscape, filled with everything from natural rhythms to engineered audio landscapes. In such a world, listening offers a way to find clarity amid the noise, a pause button for the chaos.
Each of us is surrounded by unique soundscapes that influence our sense of safety, comfort, and belonging. As a child, my sister’s piano practice formed the soundtrack to my days. Today, whenever I hear someone playing an instrument through the walls of my own home, I feel at ease—it’s a sound that makes me feel safe and, ultimately, at home.
What is your safe sound? Is it a familiar tune, the hum of conversation, or maybe a specific rhythm that makes you belong? Perhaps it’s not tied to your childhood at all but to the stillness of a forest or the hum of city traffic. Either way, it’s worth a little reflection.
With love,
Katri