Christian Wolfarth percussion

The third and last release of the trilogy 39 / Part VII – IX has been released in July 2026 on hiddenbell records as a CD & download. Recorded and mixed by Christian Wolfarth. Mastering by Michael Brändli at Hardstudios Winterthur. Liner Notes by Lê Quan Ninh. Cover Art by Urs Freitag.

'Although numerology rarely survives contact with reality, 
Christian Wolfarth‘s 39 project makes arithmetic sound like destiny. Two instalments preceded this closing chapter: Part I–III, in which deadwood, a drum and pine cones determined durations through the rolling of dice, creating a stark ritual of sorts; and Part IV–VI, where a similar discipline moved across denser strata, appearing arbitrary yet magnetic in retrospect. Both halves obeyed an identical law: events occurred three or nine times, establishing a private cosmology in which “repetition” doesn’t rhyme with “decoration”. Part VII–IX completes this architecture, configuring the accumulated logic into a unique narrative while still maintaining its numerical framework.

To describe Wolfarth simply as a percussionist would be an underestimation; his extensive résumé of installations and solo works hints at an individual inherently drawn to structure. Here, that instinct is fully realised: skin, metal, environmental sounds become raw material, subjected to subtle manipulation until a process of reiteration takes shape as craft eclipses instrumentation. The result resists classification: the outcome matters more than the gesture, discretion dictating the treatment applied to each source, never smothering the origin beneath the effect.

Lê Quan Ninh’s liner notes encourage a contemplative approach, which this recording honours without insisting upon it. The surfaces may cause the attention to drift a bit, yet nothing hinders a closer scrutiny. Detailed inspection reveals varying fibres: resonance decaying unevenly, overtones brushing against silence, apparent uniformity dissolving once isolated. These states coexist rather peacefully, allowing both casual osmosis and forensic curiosity to develop.

The sequencing follows a near-geological order. The opening section presents the components largely unadorned – strikes, scrapes and unmediated encounters between objects and surfaces – before gradual sedimentation starts altering the perspective. Backgrounds shift in density; some grow hushed, others sharpen into a brisker exchange among the struck elements. Despite chance-driven underpinnings, little feels haphazard: randomness may determine span, but it’s Wolfarth’s ear that governs the consequence.

Culmination comes through unexpected humanity. Having dominated proceedings, sonic austerity finally yields to a crowd’s buzz and a bell tower’s insistence. Civic noise supplants solitary exercise, as though the composer had unlatched a window facing the street beyond his workshop. The people’s clamour seems to mirror what came before, only relocated and with a new complexion. Does daily urban din ever truly change, or does it merely alter its guise, century after century? Wolfarth declines to resolve this ambiguity, preferring suspension over statement.

When taken as a trilogy, these successive albums appear as variations that revolve around one objective: quantitative constraint transformed into expressive freedom. This final volume doesn’t just conclude but clarifies its predecessors retroactively, revealing perseverance in addition to the essential restraint. Wolfarth has constructed something that suggests design made manifest in concreteness and clangor. Whether experienced as a temporary soundtrack of your life or analysed in depth, 39 (Part VII–IX) reaffirms the Swiss artist as a significant voice in an area where number mysticism – in its most rational form – can be utilized as a veritable grammar, not as a devious stratagem.'

Massimo Ricci (Touching Extremes, 01. September 2026)