For him, the most interesting places are where it would become complicated for others. Magnificent concert halls? Rochus Aust has performed in abundance. Traditional concert operations? He knows them (too) well. "Everything that has a very large culture and history, and everything that has existed for a long time, is too narrow," Aust says quite casually – and yet he means more than just places, concert formats, or the classical music canon itself. Anyone looking to find an industry designation for Rochus Aust could call him a "space transformer." He has also been referred to as a "visual trumpeter" because he always considers art in his music.
Perhaps the term 'world opener' would also fit, because in a certain way, he is that: a musician who helps others suddenly see the familiar in a different way and discover the unknown. Bad acoustics? They do not exist for him. Instead, there is only the desire to find out how sound functions in which space.
On a rainy afternoon in Cologne, Rochus Aust has chosen a huge high space to give an impression of his art. A space where everything happening outside is kept at bay: the rain just like the noise of the big city. On the fourth floor of the Cologne Luther Tower in the Südstadt, it is quiet as he mounts a trumpet on thin steel cables with an almost sacred seriousness, then plays a short sequence – only to then hurl the instrument with full force against the concrete walls.
This reminds one of Ben Patterson's legendary performance today, which he presented in 1962 at the Wiesbaden Art Association. Back then, he destroyed a concert grand piano with chainsaws and sledgehammers while another person played on it – thus establishing a new art form against the traditional patterns of the cultural industry. "Fluxus is certainly one of the most interesting ways to create art," says Aust, who was born in 1968 in Recklinghausen, grew up in a teacher's parents' house, and actually wanted to become a painter at first. Until it became clear what an excellent trumpeter he is. He studied music at the State University of Music in Trossingen and at the Royal College of Music in London, won national and international competitions, traveled with his productions to over 25 countries, recorded for more than 50 radio and television stations – and began to form his own ensembles. And his own standards.
"Because there were no repertoires for what I wanted to do, I developed some myself," says Aust, who composes his pieces in Excel rather than on sheet music. They describe rather settings, give action instructions – in this, Aust is not entirely dissimilar to his Fluxus colleagues. Even if he does not want to commit to one art form, one affiliation.
In the tower of the Luther Church, he has established the smallest, certainly the most interesting exhibition space for sound-based arts in Cologne, perhaps even in the Federal Republic: the LTK4. From Volksgartenstraße, you first enter a rather plain, ground-floor room and move through the atrium of the Luther Church: visually, acoustically, artistically. Above all: always upward. He regularly uses four rooms here with others. In one, tiny motors in the belly of overhead projectors make the plastic packaging of Playmobil figures clack. This reminds of tiny beings following an unknown rhythm.
On the ground floor, Aust parked a bright red mini convertible. During the lockdown, artists regularly visited who, like him, had received the Corona scholarship from the state, "Let's go!", to present their (video) works here. Completely in line with Corona regulations - due to the constantly open doors, the LTK4 was essentially part of the public space. And a permanent invitation to artists, for example, to remain visible with their own works in the "drive-in cinema": In the ground-level space, art was shown on a bright red convertible, and visitors could listen to concerts that were played one floor above them. Transmitted from a room above to the one below. The most important element of Aust's art actions, however, remained: everything was live.
Aust turns everyday places into stages and loves direct confrontation: In 2017 he rang the doorbells of strangers with a sound suitcase to spontaneously give them a house concert. In return, he asked his hosts for a personal piece of music, a sound, or a noise, from which a composition was created. Just a few months ago, he received the award for innovative concert formats from the NRW Cultural Secretariat for his "telephone concerts." Often his projects relate to mobility. Aust has invented light-speed trains, sound cars, or held concerts in hot air balloons. For his installation "Subport Bergkamen (BSP)," he created a sound and light production that suggested a massive underground airport. He loves cars, airplanes, ships, rockets – and trains: In Scheven, he bought his own station some time ago. As a studio. And a stopover for someone who is always on the move. Not just in his head.
