This concept is paradoxical. We intuitively imagine listening as a form of attention that unfolds over time, horizontally, in a diachronic manner. Depth introduces the notion of space—a layering of levels starting from the surface. Deep listening, therefore, goes beyond simply following the unfolding of a sound stream to delve beneath its surface. Is there a limit to deep listening, or can we always go deeper? And what exactly do we hear when we go beneath the surface of sounds?
I believe that deep listening is first and foremost a psychological and perceptual phenomenon: a particular mode of auditory concentration, in which one focuses on the sound, here and now, gradually abstracting from the entire context and everything that might distract. It engages the listener’s imagination and memory and involves immersion in the flow of sound.
Deep listening is not a passive reception, but a process of constructing and objectifying the sound stimulus in its vibrational materiality—in its details, its pulsations, its own spatiality, its harmonic expansions, and its quasi-organic unfolding.
From this perspective, it can be applied to various types of music—a jazz quintet, a piano sonata, a Bach cantata, an opera aria, an Indian raga, or, of course, an experimental or electronic piece.
Deep listening is also, first and foremost, the listening of the musician(s) themselves, at the very moment they are performing their music. It is at that very moment, in fact, that they give the music its depth, its sonic stratigraphy, and its momentum. There would thus be “deep composing” and “deep performing,” which may share certain characteristic traits: allowing sounds to diffuse through space, streamlining the composition to focus on the essential, and introducing a sense of profound necessity into the unfolding of the music. This also involves choosing a slower pace and spatializing the music through the natural reverberation of the performance venue or electronic sound processing.
Deep listening is, of course, distinct from superficial listening, where music is merely background noise to which one pays attention—at best—only intermittently. Such music is interchangeable and can serve a utilitarian function, like Spotify playlists. Music intended for deep listening is heard for its own sake, in its singularity and uniqueness. It absorbs the listener, just as the listener immerses themselves in it.

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