In order to properly enter the musical world of Stephan Micus you must be a bit like him: curious, very open-minded, very willing to travel, both physically and mentally. And then it helps also to ponder the words of the great Don Cherry, who used to repeat that in order to play an instrument belonging to another culture, you must first of all get to know the tradition behind it thoroughly, and then develop an exquisitely personal approach to the instrument itself. But, once all this is done, nothing else prevents from entering the magmatic fusion of enchanted, distilled, almost magic sounds, that this forty-five-year-old German from Stuttgart has been pursuing for more than twenty years now, and always for the same label: the prestigious ECM from Munich - with a severity and a tenacity that are near relatives of perfection.

He's a genuine "music hermit", Stephan Micus. He composes on his own, records on his own, plays on his own an infinity of instruments: ranging from "sho" (the Japanese mouth organ) to "ki un ki" (the wind instrument used by the Udegeys Siberian tribe), from "bodhran" (the shamanic Irish drum) to "bolombatto" (the typical harp from Western Africa), just to mention a few. And always on his own, obviously, he records all the voices featured on his records: by using the most advanced multi-track recording techniques to realize harmonizations that possess the intact perfume of magic. A magic that is revealed also by his face, relaxed and marvelously peaceful, and by the quiet and laid-back words he gives us on the afternoon of a Saturday in November, in a hall of a Milanese hotel in the area near Brera (the "artists' district" of Milan). It's just a few hours before the unforgettable concert he will hold later at the Nuovo Piccolo Teatro, within the "Multikulti" festival, and he spends them chatting and sipping tea. Rigorously green tea, and of course from Japan.

Interview

Mr Micus, why did you decide to leave your home country?

"It's very simple. Germany is too modern as a country for my own taste, and then the climate is very harsh... and people are, too. I used to live in the Bavarian countryside, near the Alps, and I must admit the place was truly fantastic: I love the mountains dearly. But I love the sun best, and over there there's so little of it... So, three years ago, I packed my luggage and moved to mallorca".

So it was a lifestyle choice...

"Sure, the search for sunny climates was the main reason. But it was also a very pragmatic choice, because mallorca has one of the best equipped airports in Europe, from which it is always possible to depart at any time of the day, 365 days a year. If we wanted to sum up the whole in a kind of equation, we could write: Sun+ Countryside + Airport = Paradise. That's what mallorca is to me!".

I assume then you started traveling quite early in your life...

"In the summer of 1969, when I had just turned sixteen (I was born on January 19, 1953). The destination was Morocco, which at the time was completely different from the place we know today: it was enchanting, nothing more and nothing less, which has had a strong influence on my personal world view. But the journey that influenced me even more was the one I took a couple of years later, in India. there I bought my first records, by the then almost unknown (at least in Europe) Ravi Shankar. There I started studying music and the instrument of Indian tradition: sitar, sarangi and tambura first of all. Ant there I learned that to really understand the music of another country you must live there long, share the local customs in depth, the clothes, the foods. Which is also what Native Americans used to say centuries ago: if you want to get to know your fellow man, walk a month in his moccasins...".

Japan, too, seems to have had a formidable influence on you...

"It's true, and it's something that I really can't explain at all. Because I distinctly feel that this fascination does not come form the mind, but directly from the heart. And the matter, from this particular point of view, moves parallel to my way of making music...".

Could you please explain better what you mean by that?

"I would be glad to do it, if I only knew: but the fact is that I don't understand it myself! The fact is, I just sit down, relax, and within me I feel only a kind of "bubble": an initial idea, to name it in rational terms. but the fact is, there is nothing rational in all this, the entire process comes from the unconscious: as soon as I manage to create a sort of "void" within me. At this point the "bubble" starts to grow, expand, until it reaches an almost complete form: which I immediately record on tape. Then I listen to the whole thing again, I refine it, polish it, choose the instruments that are more suitable and the most significant "phrases". And then I realize that at that point I have almost finished my work... .".

This is very interesting, since it highlights the essential core of your music: its being almost "zen meditation", though built with absolutely particular instruments...

"It may be like that, even if - once again - I'm not aware of it at all. In my personal case, the only certain aspect is that the music can turn out to be good only if, when I compose it, I manage to locate myself "elsewhere". If in other words I manage to become something "other" from myself, someone who writes-composes-sings without the flesh-and-bone Stephen Micus being aware of it at all. Curious, isn't it?".

Yes and no. It's one of the basic principles of "channeling"...

"That's true! Even if I must admit, frankly, that up to now I have never practiced the "channeling" technique!".

If we judge by results, it's very probable that you have this capability since birth, almost as a "genetic heritage". Also because it's not a mystery that you always work on your own...

"True, but I'd like to explain a few points about my solipsism - very rationally, this time. The first point is that, since I was a child, I have always preferred to do things on my own, and this still influences my personality a lot. The second point dates back to when I started playing, almost thirty years ago: at the time there was a sort of total uniformity, and I really wasn't interested in dealing with people that played always the same stuff. The third point has to do with my preference for the countryside: and you'll have to admit it's pretty hard to form a band in the remote country resorts of the Ruhr. The four point concerns my talents: which, thank God, are various and multifaceted. Then, why should I work with a band, when on my own I manage to play an infinity of instruments?".

A legitimate question. Then allow us to ask another one, the final one: will we ever see you playing with other artists?

"Maybe yes. Just now I am in fact intensifying contacts with two musicians I like a lot: the percussionist Pierre Favre and the "bandoneonist" Dino Saluzzi. As you say in Italy, if it's roses, they will bloom...".