In Predatory Chord, but also in a large part of your artistic production, the study and research on the vibration of the frequencies is a fundamental cornerstone. In this installation, frequencies create a constantly evolving harmonic environment around the spectator, what does the concept of sonic ecology mean to you?

Evolution, and the development of complex ecologies are founded on simple rules: restricted availability of resources, isolation of specific traits, long term exposure to specific conditions. Adaptation. These are ideas I am thinking about in music and sound production. I see my work as a process of adapting to what is available and pushing that as far as I can go with it, which is what I have done here in Athens. Without the strain, none of this would exist, we would all still be a collective coat of slime coating the rocks of a lake in Africa.

In all of my music making the most interesting moments are often borne of the simplest of rules. Setting up situations which challenge basic thresholds, and exploit technological failure have always been of interest to me, and still now any time I am confronted with a new piece of gear my first thought is always ‘how do I break this?’ Placing speakers out of phase, facing them into corners, pushing subs designed for stadiums into small gallery spaces, and turning them up to the point that they are animating the very air, and the structural integrity of a building- honestly none of that is hard. But where it gets challenging is in going, ok, I have now created this situation that I have lost control of, so do I reign it in, and if so where is that threshold? Is there a way to ride the lightning here? To harness it? Because to me, when it sits at that crucial point of falling apart, it has for whatever reason, this uncanny feeling that ‘ok, now it’s working’.

In designing the installation, how have you experimented with PA technology? And how has it shaped the evolution of your art?

Touring around the world, performing, working in different theaters, halls, etc, one of the only constants is the technology, that is the PA. I guess I have pretty specific interests in that field and I’ve always been fascinated by the universality of backline/hire equipment. And as with music and sound, the technical also sort of cuts across language and culture, I can have a pretty detailed conversation with a sound engineer anywhere. It’s a weird zone. There is this inherent invisibility designed into PA speakers; this modular system of building blocks muted in stealth black. They are right in front of you at any concert, but you’re not supposed to see them, let alone pay any attention to them, and I’m in part trying to turn that back on itself, and force confrontation. They really do feel like a sculptural medium to me, something to be shaped and moulded.

How do you strike a balance between the expression of your personal artistic vision and the public’s interpretation and reception of your work?

There is always the thing as I imagine it, and the thing that is, and finally the thing that the audience receives. They are rarely the same thing. This piece in Athens started as a conversation with the theatre, and a lot of really wild conversations with the tech crew. I said this is what I want to do, to which they respond that ‘we have these 42 D&B speakers sitting in storage’. And so quickly then the piece becomes a work for 42 speakers. The void between all of these steps, that is the art, and I’m just kind of there to steer all those components into a form that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.