This 1940s bedside alarm clock belonged to Claudette, a professional violinist and Aurore’s grandmother. Though it remained silent for many years, it still carries an intimate memory in which time is measured less in hours than in rhythms and presences.
Aurore remembers her grandmother’s embraces: with her ear resting against her chest, she listened to the beating of her heart, while her hands, moving with a steady cadence, gently marked a familiar rhythm—as though extending a musical score.
Repaired so that it might recover its mechanical voice, the alarm clock becomes the starting point for a work that connects the object to a musical transcription of its own mechanism. The ticking of the clock, the beating heart, and the gesture of the violinist converge into a single sonic language.
The piece thus evokes the memory of rhythm: a presence that endures through time, transforming the sound of a clock into an intimate, sensitive, and living melody.
