Earlier this year, after more than a decade of practical work in the field of gender equality and youth participation in cultural life in Serbia, I defended my doctoral dissertation at the University of Arts in Belgrade’s Faculty of Dramatic Arts.

When a musician takes a bow to a string instrument, they rely on technique and intuition to produce a desired tone. But what exactly defines the limits of playability and the quality of the sound? What factors influence string vibration, and which of these depend on the player’s technique versus the string itself?

The promise of transformative, touching experiences is what drives the art business. Sociologist Hartmut Rosa, framing it in a broader perspective, identifies this quest as a historical paradigm that propels the acceleration of late modern society in the interest of increasing the individual’s “shares of the world”. He refers to it as the promise of resonance. Resonance, as a modality of correlation with the world, is something to which we are naturally drawn.

Eine Vielzahl von Künstler_innen, Musiker_innen und Komponist_innen haben den Plattenspieler in den letzten Jahrzehnten intensiv genutzt, bearbeitet und erweitert. Durch virtuos angewandte Techniken, wie u. a. Scratching und Beat-Matching, wurde der Plattenspieler zum Instrument und der bzw. die DJ zum/zur Musiker_in.

It all began a few years ago with a clarinet concerto by the American composer Aaron Copland (1900–1990). My eye was caught by the words at the very top of the page: “For Benny Goodman”. Was Copland friends with the swing icon? Did they work together? Or did the composer simply admire Goodman (1909–1986) as a musician?

In the new research column “Early Stage Researchers”, up-and-coming academics at the mdw offer glimpses into their intriguing and wide-ranging research activities.