Dyslexiscope

Dyslexiscope grew out of an inner confusion, a desire to make sense of things that resist reading. The piece unfolds in two layers: one made from field recordings I captured during the 12-day war and transformed, and another, voiced through the piano, that later begins to retell those same sounds in a dyslexic, distorted way.

As it moves forward, the background and foreground constantly exchange roles; what was clear becomes blurred, and what was distant suddenly feels too close. The result is a fragile sonic landscape, somewhere between war, memory, and the instability of perception.

Musically, the work draws from Persian modes, especially Shur and Homayun, and from rhythmic patterns that pulse beneath traditional Iranian music. These materials are reshaped into clustered textures and tempered harmonic colors, forming a tension between the natural and the artificial, between clarity and collapse.

Dyslexiscope is not just a piece about distortion; it is about learning to listen through distortion - about seeing sound, and perhaps the world, through a cracked lens that still reflects a strange kind of beauty.