Kleine Freuden
Mappa Editions
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1Es ist an der Zeit 1:21
2Hinfort 0:57
3Unbemerkt hinein 1:17
4Für immer verbunden 1:01
5Schon wieder erleuchtet 1:14
6Nutzlose Ratschläge 1:14
7Lass mich schlafen 1:07
8Stille Nacht 1:06
9Lieber nicht 1:08
10Mach die Augen zu 1:02
11Verdrehter Kopf 0:49
12Berauscht 1:10
13Finger im Wind 1:03
14Taumel 1:08
15Stets weiter 0:52
16Glück im Traum 1:14
17Abgetrieben (Reprise)1:07
18Wieder verdrängt 0:40
19Das Geheimnis des Klosters 1:20
20Das verschwundene Kind 1:10
21Unter der Decke 1:38
22Zurück 1:12
23Verstimmt 1:06
24In der Grotte 1:27
25Labbrige Hostie 1:01
26In Begleitung 0:51
27Hinten im Eck 1:09
28Zeit mit dir 1:15
29Über den Dächern 1:00
30Bitte bleib 1:18
31Draußen ist's kalt 1:09
32Lauf der Wasserader 1:17
33Kleiner Abschied 1:04
34Einen Augenblick lang 0:29

Johannes Schebler's musical output is all about establishing a dreamlike territory where sonic settlements can spread at ease. While Grykë Pyje (Johannes Schebler's duo with Jani Hirvonen) presents musical landscapes as open and clear spaces, Baldruin's miniature pieces tend to narrow them down, zooming into domestic sceneries that shift like malleable rooms inside a magic building. These are the quarters where the inhabitants of Schebler's musical world are configured.

Rendered in a tender manner, the tunes in Kleine Freuden (in English: small joys) unfold like a collection of fairy tales and bedtime stories. Fables and lullabies performed in whispering tones seem to carry us through a child's dream where images blend into each other. Compact, yet gauzy and free flowing melodies gather up revealing an ensemble of households where fanciful entities play care freely, leading us along their musical maze. The music is placid, childlike and playful. It wanders around in unwavering estrangement, organizing an unprecedented and intimate space as seen from a bird's eye view.

In the landscape of a bedroom where the night lamp is the sun, we take part in a lively journey, as wonder is warrant and keeper of a warm and pristine environment. Perspective shifts as we rise from bed sheet folds that turn into fragile mountain ranges. We crawl behind furniture and take shelter in secret hideouts while dust falls upon us like a blizzard. Transfiguring notions of scale and time, we are left wondering how long have we been here, wondering if music is the only true measurement of time.