CARLOS SANDOVAL MENDOZA



Biberdamm-Assut

Germany, 2019

Electronic keyboard, Violin and Cello, PET bottles, water, and one-channel video

Video Production: Studio LaRitter, BERLIN

Premiere: 2019, Acker Stadt Palace, Berlin, in UP TO THREE, Mosaik

Further performance: 2020, Kunstraum Tosterglope, in SPECIAL INSTRUMENTS series, Mosaik

Commission: Ensemble Mosaik


 

On animation video, three beavers grind wheat in a continuous loop — a collective, precise, steady stamp-milling rhythm. On stage, three musicians mirror this through a hocket-based score: each plays a single note in turn, the melody existing only in the collective, no single player holding the whole. Neither trio has a conductor. Neither knows it is doing what the other is doing.

The beaver is one of the most radical engineers in the animal world. It reshapes entire ecosystems — fells trees, redirects water, builds dams that alter landscapes for decades — without any concept of engineering. It does all of this from instinct, with the same collective precision a hocket requires from trained musicians. The threshold between organized behavior and conscious intention is exactly here: indistinguishable from the outside, entirely different from the inside. Or so we assume.

At a later stage the performers fill PET bottles with water and play them as flutes. Each bottle is perforated once. The performer blows and slowly opens the perforation — water drains, and the overall pitch range of the ensemble descends with it, continuously, like a hand moving a frequency handle across the whole piece. No score governs this, only the instruction to listen to the hocket and play along. The hocket continues, but the world it inhabits is sinking. Nobody decided when it would stop.

Biberdamm is German for the dam beavers build — the structure that redirects water, reshapes landscapes, and creates habitable space from what was simply flow. Assut is a Valencian word of Arabic origin: a weir or dam built in a river to divert its water toward an irrigation canal — the same operation, carried out by medieval humans inheriting hydraulic knowledge from Moorish Spain. Both words name the same intervention: stopping flow in order to redirect it. The piece works the same way. The beaver doesn't know it's an engineer. The builders of the assut didn't know they were doing what the beaver does. The threshold between instinct and culture runs straight through the middle of the same structure. This is Field Logic at its most literal: local actions, no central coordination, a global result that no single node planned or perceives.