🎵 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/2a3KuxcjjW1VmJhp7KDVJ4?si=Sf-YxpL0SpSHJRd3_VKPPQ
I wanted Cor Ruptum to feel like something bigger than sadness. Not just pain, but something vast, almost sacred. It begins in silence on purpose, like the moment before a thought fully forms, or before something breaks inside you.
I chose the cello to carry that weight, slow and intimate, like a voice that cannot speak but still insists on being heard. When the operatic voice enters, I did not want it to sound fragile. I wanted it to feel distant, almost untouchable, like grief that has grown too large to belong to just one person.
As the piece evolves, I tried to turn melancholy into something epic. Not louder, but deeper. The distortion is there as a scar, something that changes the sound without destroying it. Because I think that is what pain does. It reshapes you, but it can also give you a strange kind of power.
By the end, everything merges into one presence. That was intentional. I wanted it to feel overwhelming, like standing in front of something you cannot fully understand.
I hope you feel something real when you listen to it.
