Entre Malezas #3. Llegar y nunca irse, de Emilia Grima

Sound is a place. It constitutes a place, and that place constitutes the sound. Even though it exists in space-time, a place can be static. It is governed by the logic of space and time, yes, but also by the urgency of those who pass through it. If you look at it with the right eyes, you can make that space lead nowhere; you can make expectation cease to exist. You can make it cease to exist for an hour. And if only this could happen with other hours and other places.

Three o’clock in the afternoon in the Arrudos Gorge existed without changing. We were together, and perhaps it wasn’t important to her, but it remained etched in my memory forever, like so many others and yet so few at the same time. This mix wants to arrive and never leave. That is why trains always arrive; that is why the Cantabrian Sea blurs cycles and sequences. Some bring out the colours of Asturias. I try to embrace them. Meanwhile, time does not pass through them. Even if the next day autumn has laid them bare; even if the following week spring has dressed them.

Emilia Grima blends rhythms, tempos, structures and desires in her sets. With a special focus on the past and future of percussion, she easily forgets to close the tabs on her computer.