Rewire reminds that music in focus and detail makes a colossal impression.

Three moments from Rewire that I remember most:

Elisabeth Klinck, who wages an intimate battle against silence in one of the Theater aan het Spui rooms,

Lukas De Clerck, who plays his drone suites on telescopic pipes in suspense,

Ex-Easter Island Head, who record their singing on smartphones, only to run it through guitar pickups like a choir a moment later.

Elizabeth Klinck plays so quietly that you can barely hear the sounds – you must strain your hearing to hear anything. I’m sitting in the front row. The artist plays the violin and immerses herself in the melody – sometimes singing. When I expect an explosion of sound, nothing of the sort happens. Her performance is based on material from her new album Chronotopia – minimalist, resounding softly against a background of silence. The songs, mostly instrumental and introspective, are occasionally enriched by abstract vocals. During the concert Klinck gives the impression of being slightly abashed – perhaps surprised that the audience listens to her music in such deep concentration and almost absolute silence. “I’m usually quite loud,” she says at one point. However, we all sit silently, contemplating the performance with full concentration, almost devoutly, without making a sound. This is how it is on this year’s Rewire edition.

Lukas De Clerck plays loudly, and his music carries through the interior of the Lutherse Kerk. This time, I’m sitting in the front row, which is unusual at concerts in this space. The artist plays double telescopic pipes, the aulos – an extinct Greco-Roman instrument with a double reed, a replica of which he created himself after years of work on their construction. The performance is tense and focused – I listen almost breathlessly. He plays without pause, a single tone dissolving into the temple space – minimalist and overwhelming at the same time. When he finishes, he has to catch his breath, and we are with him because what has happened resonates not only in the space but also in me.

The audience is curious about what is happening on stage during the Ex-Easter Island Head concert. “Weather” opens with murmurs generated by haptic vibration motors that ‘dance’ across the strings of the guitars, creating a sound reminiscent of field recordings. Then the sounds grow – the strokes of the sticks on the strings of the guitars appear in even intervals, and in the track “Norther”, they move into an almost dance-like rhythm, which still returns in the finale. The climax is “Magnetic Language” – fragments of vocals recorded in the quasi-choral form are played at the center of horizontally arranged guitars, then cut and modulated by pickups. The result is an emotive-sounding, half-human, half-mechanised chorus.

The concert moments stick in my memory most strongly—as if time had stopped for a moment. The silence and concentration Rewire’s program imposes can surprisingly sharpen one’s perception of the music.

But there are more exceptional moments.

Ben LaMar Gay plays bells with the band, which they muffle with their bodies to create a polyphonic structure. After a series of improvised, abstract passages (for cornet, tuba, guitar and drums), the tempo slows down. The artist reaches for the bells and begins tapping rhythmically on them, and the band joins in, striking the bells and muffling them on their clothes and chests. The result is a rhythmic composition torn out of silence and evolving into a coherent piece. It’s a fascinating break from their set.

I also remember a concert by the duo Able Noise – a balance between compact and improvised music for drums and electric guitar; their raw, gnarled sound has poetry and ferocity. The intense performance of Ego Death – a project by Resina, Aho Ssan, and Yahosan that replaces Alvin Lucier’s solo performance – comes back to me. Their set is a dense sound form, balancing noise, drone, and metal. Karolina Rec plays an effects-enhanced cello, and Aho Ssan builds up layers of electronics.

The concert by Use Knife – a trio formed by Iraqi singer Saif Al-Qaissy, Belgian musicians Kwinten Mordijck and Stef Heeren, and visual artist Youniss Ahamad – is similarly impressive. The band combines Middle Eastern sounds with electronica, post-punk, and EBM to create an energetic, trance-like performance with a strong political charge. In the Paard hall, their concert becomes one of the most danceable events of the festival – the visuals resemble a contemporary, ritualistic disco.

Colin Stetson’s concert is also unique. Although he doesn’t improvise, he performs five long compositions created live, without looping, based solely on breath and circular technique. It’s mantric, intense playing, full of physicality, resonating powerfully in Amare’s wooden hall. He plays alone but fills the space with emotion and power.

A few days earlier, I managed to see Alvin Curran solo (in the programme he was supposed to play three times). I skipped his performance on the river but arrived at a concert at Lutherse Kerk, where the artist creates a collage of sounds—noir, eccentric, at times grotesque, but highly evocative. His music works on the imagination and comments on the present.

I regret not getting to the Laurie Anderson and Joanna Barbara concerts – they are very popular. However, I am glad that Rewire is reaching out to the classics. It’s just a pity that it doesn’t always recognize how much drawing power they have to put them in the bigger spaces. This confirms the importance of this festival—on the one hand, it presents novelty and stylistic diversity; on the other, it reminds us of the foundations of the avant-garde.

Sealionwoman duo’s concert is another surprise – the opera singing and the sound of the double bass, played with bow and fingers, create a dense, minimalist, almost metal form. Moin, the project of Tom Halstead and Joe Andrews (known for Raime) and drummer Valentina Magaletti, is mesmerizing. Combining guitar sounds with electronic influences, their music balances rawness and moodiness to create hypnotic, slightly psychedelic soundscapes.

Two voice-based concerts are particularly memorable for me. At the Grote Kerk, the NYX collective – a vocal ensemble of a dozen people – looks like a witches’ sabbath. In orange robes, in a surreal setting, they sound as if they are disenchanting the world with music. In contrast, Bitoi – a Swedish quartet of three female vocalists and a bass player – performs at Luther Kirche. Their polyphonic chants loop and the bass guitar echoes these structures, transforming the compositions from minute to minute.

Body Meta is three guitars, but the centerpiece is Greg Fox’s drums. And I can’t fail to mention Elori Saxl’s concert with a string quartet – ambient music reverberates through Lutherse Kerk (my favorite Rewire venue, I assume now). I sit on the mezzanine – the sound floats better, and the last light of the day comes in through the windows. They create an extraordinary atmosphere.

In the same space, the festival ends for me with a concert by Eiko Ishibashi. She uses samples from the film “Evil Does Not Exist”, but also other layers of sound, percussion parts, and plays the transverse flute, assembling a reflective whole from these elements.

Between concerts, I often wander around Hague like a flâneur, planning transitions, counting time, and hunting for front-row seats. The distance from the stage changes the way I listen. I emerge from concert silence into urban bustle – like after a Lucas de Klerk performance, when I can see his instrument up close, or after Elizabeth Klinck, when the slightest rustle seems right next to my ear. Rewire reminds that music in focus and detail makes a colossal impression.