“Music for Gabi” might be the sound of one hand clapping, then two, and a hand slapping a thigh, as if to say come forth, come forth, come, a mouth is opening and closing, a finger is hooking itself inside of a cheek, and popping it, and plucking it—little wet noises that, sporadic as a reflection, slap back.
It might be the sound of hands moving to music, which is absent, while dancing, or lone applause, sometimes frantic, sometimes exuberant, clapped into a computer, or a recorder, or into the thick glass of a windowpane. A lone flutter, attentive, in praise.
More about: Gabi Loscony
