Hans-Jörn Brandenburg, composer of the play Seven Solitudes: “A utopia where order is birthed by chaos, and chaos is born out of order!”

Director Robert Wilson, who began creating Seven Solitudes, a play based on Oskar Miłosz’ poetic texts, at the National Kaunas Drama Theatre, unexpectedly left this world on 31 July 2025. Before departing for the United States, Wilson remarked on the upcoming premiere: “It’s a strange poetic journey. A completely different world that I have never known. It’s exciting to go to this foreign place and imagine it. It’s full of secrets. Both distant and close.” Today, the artist’s ideas seem prophetic, because after death, which brings peace to the physical body, the eternity that awaits and opens is unknown, foreign, mysterious, and only imaginary, in a completely different and other dimension.

The premiere of Seven Solitudes will be staged at the NKDT by fellow theatre legends, one of whom is Hans-Jörn Brandenburg, a musician, composer and director who had collaborated with Wilson for more than four decades. One could say that these artists have jointly created Wilson’s theatrical style and the meaning and function of the musical element in it.

In anticipation of the premiere of Seven Solitudes by the director, playwright, artist, and set designer, who was one of the most famous creators of experimental and avant-garde theatre and who created with light, the late Robert Wilson: a conversation with sound artist Hans-Jörn Brandenburg, who studied in Hamburg and Hanover, was the Director of the Hamburg Theatre (Deutsches Schauspielhaus), worked with the British group The Tiger Lillies, arranged their album Gorey End in 2001, and contributed significantly to the group’s Grammy nomination. The artist’s multifaceted expression is harmonised through the existence between theatre and music, or perhaps more accurately, the existence in theatre music and/or musical theatre, searching for an authentically unique sound of meaning that is born and realised here and now, while simultaneously fading into eternity.

Interview by Elvina Baužaitė

Hans-Jörn, the literary basis for the premiere of Seven Solitudes at the NKDT is the texts of Lithuanian writer Oskar Miłosz, author of metaphysical, symbolist poetry. A contemporary Lithuanian poet Aidas Marčėnas defines poetry as the religion of language, so I invite you to share your personal perception of poetry, which, through the variation of language, brings those who devote themselves to it closer to the highest sacred meaning.

For me, poetry and music have the same roots; they come from the same source, which lies beyond rational thinking. It is the state of consciousness when creating poetry or music is based on faith and trust in infinite space and power. In this personal state, time and space create words or sounds that transcend the mind. Or, as John Cage put it: “The purpose of music and words is to quiet and sober the mind, making it susceptible to divine influences.”

As you point out, music, just like poetry, seems to come naturally, as if it chooses a person as a channel for its own potential to be fulfilled—to come into being. How do you experience and explain the process of creating music: from the beginning, perhaps the birth of an idea, its formation, the first sounds being heard, the creative and technical work, and the moment when it becomes clear or is decided that the piece is completed?

For me, the creative process is simply listening to the flow of consciousness and trying to translate this experience into sound. I choose one note or sound and, relying on my intuition, try to develop it in a meaningful way. Bob Wilson would give me very simple and specific instructions, such as: “Play something slowly (or quickly), quietly (or loudly), gently (or angrily). And off you go!” Then I would just start playing while looking at the stage: I would capture the image and turn it into music. It’s almost like a game, a dance, or a fight: there’s no time to think, I just start and do it! This process is based on the deep trust Bob and I have built up over 36 years of working together.

In poetry, as in music and theatre, the language of art brings people together, and perhaps most importantly, brings people together with themselves. In confrontation with their own selves, it perhaps becomes clear or obvious that each of us is gifted and simultaneously doomed to existential loneliness, from which arises an unquenchable longing for what has been lost, what has not been discovered, what is beyond comprehension, and what, perhaps, exists beyond the boundaries of time and life.

It is understandable that the artist needs time alone in order to create in a temporary space, but humans are dialogical beings, as we need other people. In your experience, how do these two opposing and contradictory characteristics of being coexist?

For me, solitude has two different meanings: focusing on myself without any distractions and experiencing loneliness, a feeling of isolation from others. Working with Bob Wilson is another form of solitude. You are one of a large team of collaborators, following a process that creates something beyond your personal feelings and thoughts. It’s like following a great conductor. There are about seventy lonely people with different opinions, but they are synchronised by an idea that is greater than the number of people involved. Everyone is always alone, but at the same time they are part of a creative process that transcends their individual thoughts. By the way, I think God was a couple… (Smiles.)

You are a representative and artist of theatre. I am curious to know your definition of theatre.

I view theatre as a kind of utopia where order is birthed by chaos, and chaos is born out of order! You can either laugh or cry.

Based on your own unique experience, please introduce us to the late Maestro Robert Wilson and the theatre he created.

I consider Robert Wilson to be one of the greatest and last theatre enthusiasts of this century. He did not struggle through any academic theatre studies, just like Johann Sebastian Bach, who was also self-taught: he learned from personal practice, gaining creative and work experience! I was fortunate to work with George Tabori, a genius who lived and loved life and work. However, nowadays such geniuses seem to have disappeared, erased by academic work, untalented teachers, and boring schools. That is why we must respect Bob’s idea of founding the Watermill Center even more, thus providing a place for artists of all kinds for future generations! By the way, I also see myself as an amateur; nothing that is born out of love can be wrong.

In Seven Solitudes, music, literature, and theatre come together very naturally. Oskar Miłosz, whose texts form the literary and dramaturgical basis for the upcoming premiere, presented an original version of the story of Don Juan. As we know, the genius composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is the author of the opera Don Juan, which has enjoyed unwavering popularity that has only grown over the years. So, Hans-Jörn, as a musician and composer, what does Mozart mean to you personally? What does this composer’s music say to you and how?

In German, “Zart” means “gentle” and “Mo” means “more for me”. He is intelligent, funny, and strict at the same time! Plants grow faster and are healthier when you make them listen to his music. What more could you want!

Focusing specifically on the opera Don Juan, which will celebrate its 240th anniversary in 2026, I would like to ask you to share your impressions of this work, as well as your understanding of Don Juan as a cultural phenomenon. Why does it remain relevant and dynamic in every era? What is the essence of Don Juan’s vitality: is it divine sinfulness or sinful divinity?

The original story, written in Spanish, was created by a Catholic priest. The term “sin” is used by the church and people to enforce a law based on fear. But if we are created by God, by His will, it seems that God is also not free from the idea of sin… True anarchy would mean being free from sin and performing every action with respect for others, without harming any creature around us. Don Juan is dishonest and he lies and betrays, but I think he could behave better if he wanted to.

Given the possibility that, although music is an art form in time, it nevertheless has the power to overcome time, in a certain sense, and has an opportunity to travel through time or even negate it. What is your take on this?

A few years ago, I started creating “Babypianotunes”, piano pieces that I compose from a sequence of notes I put together from the baby’s name, date of birth, and time of birth. This sequence of notes seems to suggest and intuitively find a way to turn it into a piano melody! I really enjoy it because the musical material is just a random set of musical sounds that goes beyond my imagination, like rolling dice (by the way, Mozart used this as a compositional technique!). So, these melodies are created specifically for a new person on this planet. I’d like to share my flyer (by the way, Bob Wilson sent me the handwritten title), where you can listen to the music and order one for yourself or your friends’ babies!

What would you advise and wish for yourself, the creator, your like-minded colleagues, the artistic community, art lovers and admirers, and experienced individuals who choose to remain unaware and attempt to discover the undiscovered?

Be curious, be serious, smile and make others smile (if you want), be open, accept your failures, stop trying to convince others until you truly believe in yourself, and keep working!