Was passiert, wenn eine Uhr, die früher an der Wand hing, nicht mehr funktioniert und weggeworfen wird? Und warum fühlen wir uns gezwungen, eine Streichholzschachtel zu schütteln, selbst wenn wir sie nicht benutzen wollen? In diesem Werk finden Sie keine endgültige Antwort auf diese Fragen, aber ich lade dich trotzdem ein, zuzuhören – für eine ruhige Erkundung der beständigen Gewohnheiten unseres Gedächtnisses, dessen, was nach dem Verschwinden von Menschen und Gegenständen aus unserem Leben bleibt, und wie der Klang ihres Lebens lange nach ihrem Verschwinden nachklingt.

Diese Geschichte habe ich für Small Audio Art erstellt, eine von Phoebe McIndoe gegründete Gemeinschaft von Künstlern und Audiomachern, die in einer zerstreuten Welt Zusammengehörigkeit suchen. Das Thema für dieses Audio war "Uhr".

Listen also in English

Bildbearbeitung des Fotos von Abiodun Ageh bei Unsplash

What does it take to prepare an interview? How do you ask a friend to tell you about a painting that she painted? And what if the friend lives on the other side of the world, divided by 10 hours difference? It takes planning, open questions and suggestions, without forgetting to ask for " a minute or so of ambience, if you can". But what if life goes in the way and the friend cannot deliver? Well, then you play with what you have and the 'problem' takes centre stage and becomes the focus of the narration.

I created this story for Small Audio Art, a community created by Phoebe McIndoe with artists and audio makers looking for togetherness in a scattered world. The prompt for this audio was 'pictures'.

Ich erzähle einen kleinen, aber eindringlichen Moment, der mein eigenes Bedauern über meine Reaktion in einem bestimmten Moment unseres kollektiven Lebens widerspiegelt. Eine Reflexion darüber, wie leicht Angst unsere Wahrnehmung verzerren kann und uns vergessen lässt, was wirklich zählt: Mitgefühl und Hoffnung. Diese Arbeit hat den zweiten Preis beim Kurzhörspielwettbewerb der Hörspielwiese Kölln 2025 gewonnen.
"Eine Glanzleistung, die vor allem von der Stimme von M. Cristina Marras lebt."

Diese Arbeit ist eine Adaption und Neuinterpretation eines ursprünglich auf Englisch für Small Audio Art erstellten Audios, das auch von Radiophrenia 2025 veröffentlicht wurde.

This is my very first commissioned piece in German, published on Deutschanldfunk Kultur's Doku Drops, a monthly audio magazine curated and moderated by Judith Geffert and Ingo Kottkamp, featuring short documentary pieces.

In my piece, Da ist dieser Moment (There is this moment), I explore that fleeting, endless moment of waiting, the pause between dialling a phone number and hearing the other side pick up.

What seems like nothing on the outside opens up an entire universe of thoughts, feelings, and possibilities on the inside.

Artwork Photo by Adam Hamel on Unsplash

A surreal exchange of words by the Aurora Bridge, near the railway. A dialogue between unlikely spies that makes a mockery of spy stories with irony and nonsense.

The scene is set by the historic bridge in Seattle, known for its striking presence over Lake Union. This audio work reimagines the soundscape of the Hannover Hydroelectric Power Plant. It is part of the Cities and Memory project, blending place, story, and sound to invite listeners into a playful world of coded secrets and hidden meanings.

Created for Cities and Memory using the 'Hydroelectric power plant, Hannover' recording by Jurgen Morgenstern-Feise.

Photo by Nationaal Archief on Unsplash

Created in 2 days, just as the rules of Sonic Dash require, without too much fuss, a bit rough and really rushed.

The theme was 'too much information,' to be interpreted freely. My luck is having a lot of interesting and original friends scattered around the world who come to my aid without asking too many questions when I show up again with one of my strange requests.

You might actually recognise some voices (many of them work in the podcast and audio world), but I am not writing their names here. Because when I asked them to tell me 'too much information,' I also specified that it didn’t necessarily had to be true. In short, don’t form any opinions based solely on what you hear here, I warn you!

I’ve already thanked my friends personally, even those I couldn’t include (there were many friends and only two minutes to fill), but I still like to repeat my thanks here because this really is a wonderful community.

Enjoy the ride! (works best with headphones).

Photo by Igor Omilaev on Unsplash

A story of childhood wonder, loss, and the consequences of chasing what we don’t fully understand, a cautionary tale about the stories we inherit, the memories we cling to, and the dangers of tampering with time-real or imagined.

Photo by Egor Litvinov on Unsplash

What happens when a clock that used to hang at the wall stops working, and is thrown away? And why do we feel compelled to shake a matchbox, even if we do not intend to use it? In this work you will not find a definitive answer to these questions, but I invite you to listen nonetheless, for a quiet exploration of the persistent habits of our memory, of what remains after people and objects disappear from our life, how the sound of their lives lingers long after they are gone.

I created this story for Small Audio Art, a community created by Phoebe McIndoe with artists and audio makers looking for togetherness in a scattered world. The prompt for this audio was 'clock'.

[Höre auch auf Deutsch]

Image reworking of Photo by Abiodun Ageh on Unsplash