Δημοκρατία (Democracy) is a living reflection, a mirror of the self as a people. Composed and recorded at the Waianaia Earth Temple in Kapaʻau on the Big Island, this album is an homage to democracy, the youngest and, so far, fairest form of government.

Like my live compositions, democracy is imperfect—but imperfection invites curiosity, reflection, and growth. During my live performances, the presence of the live audience plays an important role in the composing process. In our democracies, our presence and participation are key to co-creating what we, the people, want and need.

My album artwork is a dreamlike psychedelic piece I designed around a photo of my best friend on the Big Island of Hawai’i. I first met this tree in 2018.

On my countless drives over Saddle Road from Kona to the Hilo side and back, I always stopped at the Mauna Kea recreation park to go on a few rounds of walking meditation. No matter if it rained, was windy, sunny, or misty, I enjoyed these rounds in solitude, reflecting on the present moment, remembering the past, and dreaming about the future, breathing in the crisp air at an altitude of around 6500 feet or 2000 meters. The scent of the nearby fir trees, the stunning view of Mauna Loa, and the magnificent power of Mauna Kea co-created an interdimensional state of inspiration.

On dry days, you may encounter busy ants, tirelessly traveling along the expansion joints of the walkway’s concrete slabs from one side to the other. Occasionally, you might run into a goat who survived the traffic and helicopter machine gun fire.

Pausing, squatting, watching. Breathing.

One day, I wandered off, and a peculiar-looking tree drew my attention. A little grass patch right in front of it felt like an invitation to meditate, so I sat down and closed my eyes, focusing on my in and out breath. And then, a conversation started. I returned again and again to sit and listen.

Democracy is art. It requires contemplation, imagination, and creative input from many to paint an ever-evolving picture of what we want our communities to look like. The freedom to think critically and offer constructive feedback is another important foundation of this form of government. Freedom from conspiracy leads to freedom of thought and allows for a more nuanced approach to complex problem-solving, building trust in those who are more knowledgeable than ourselves in this or that area. With diversity, equity, and inclusion, democracy shows its unprecedented strength compared to any other form of government. In the cost of capitalism, I address the intergenerational trauma of child soldiers, closing this album with a peaceful transition of power, another key element of a healthy democracy.

δημοκρατία (Democracy) came into existence near Pololū Valley. I asked myself: How do we define fairness? Is our awareness limited not only by our senses but by how well we refine them? Even before AI’s rise, distraction, misinformation, and the flood of data eroded public trust and deepened manipulation by those seeking power and profit.

Hawai’i Island has its very unique way of speaking to me as I close my eyes and allow the creativity to flow. And just like lava during an eruption, this flow is guided, directed, and moving through and around preexisting forms shaped by space and time.

The smell of the jungle as the sun sets. The sound of the coqui frogs as they erupt in their evening mating calls. The shadows of owls and bats as they start their nocturnal hunt. The listeners, dancers, and yogis—present as they co-create togetherness. Everything and everyone represents a kind of unity in diversity, which is also the foundation of a democracy.

I use a so-called destructive recording method; everything is composed live, from scratch, and recorded as a single stereo file, no post-editing beyond mastering. Presence, space, time, and emotion co-create each piece. Like my live compositions, democracy is imperfect—but imperfection invites curiosity, reflection, and growth. Let’s work on it together, as a people.

ABOUT MY WORK

I compose everything live using a 5-string electric violin, a telescopic didgeridoo, and a cajón. My work is sound art created in real time.

Although classical training laid my foundation, I moved away from convention after hearing Deep Purple’s Highway Star performed by my violin teacher’s string quartet. That moment, combined with my fascination for everything between and beyond electronic, world, minimalist, and avant-garde music, led me toward experimental sound design.

The shift to live composition took form in 2018 after the Kīlauea eruption buried my neighborhood in lava. This vivid experience of impermanence, destruction, renewal, and growth inspired me to let go of written scores and begin composing from thin air, layering electric violin with cajón, didgeridoo, and voice; psychedelic symphonies—rising from the present moment.

My work ranges from ambient to energetic live compositions, sometimes with subtle nature and environmental sounds such as footsteps on lava rock, touching fern, ocean waves, and forest winds. All sounds are recorded in the spaces where each piece comes to life, with no backing tracks.

P.S.: Here’s an interesting anecdote from the Age of algorithms, AI, and capitalism. When I sent my album off to the distributor, I received this automated note regarding my release: “This release is not eligible for social media platforms and fingerprinting systems because these services do not accept non-musical, functional, or noise content. Learn more about eligibility criteria.”

Δημοκρατία (Democracy) Live Composition on 5-string Electric Violin, Didjeribone, Voice, Percussion 5 Pieces | 1 Hour 2 Minutes Recorded at the Waianaia Earth Temple, Kapaʻau, Hawaiʻi Artwork by Markus Mars Photo by Markus Mars ℗ & © 2025 Markus Mars

Kava Infused is a live recording from a 2019 concert at the Kava Bar in Hilo. A vibrant space full of vibrant people. Composing all of my music in a live audience setting is the quintessence of my work. While the COVID pandemic left artists around the globe in uncertainty and limited, changed, or even boosted everyone’s creative flow, I joined the bandwagon for a while and jumped on live streaming platforms to give it a shot.

However, I could not maintain the initial energy and soon felt confused about what this digital mirror of our mass consumption world reflected to us.

Content creators create more content for what reason? Influencers selling questionable antidotes to strangers while spreading misinformation anecdotes for a thumbs up? Engagement is everything. Staying on top is key — by all means.

Kava, also known as ‘awa in Hawai’i, is a crop of the Pacific Islands. The name kava is from Tongan and Marquesan, meaning ‘bitter.’ The plant’s root is used to produce a drink with sedative, anesthetic, and euphoriant properties, consumed throughout the Pacific Ocean cultures of Polynesia, including Hawai’i, Vanuatu, Melanesia, and some parts of Micronesia, such as Palau.

Skimming through the recording of my Kava Bar gig made me nostalgic. A flower power environment with zero sorrows, during a time when nobody worried about inhaling each other’s droplets.

I enjoyed a whole lotta Kava love droplets before allowing the magic from within to manifest itself in the form of this extended five-track live composition. I invite you to glide into a liquid trip of warm pads and sync up the pulse of the soul with subtle beats of multilayered echoes to attempt a wake-up call for world peace.

Over the years, I created my unique style of live time-stretching, layering several tempi, and occasionally creating a sometimes more or less gentle distraction from what the mind expects. A wide dynamic range leads to occasional input overdrives, which add scratches of good dirt to the otherwise clean-shaven soundscape of modern-day music production. It is a provocative element you may quickly learn to enjoy as it breathes extra life into the recording.

Mixing and mastering my new album, Kava Infused, gave me hope. The truth is, I became more and more certain that it is possible to conflate the magic of the unknown and the accomplishment of modern-day peer-reviewed evidence-based science. The result could be a delicious love potion that might help us overcome a toxic ego-centric neoliberalistic mindset that birthed Big Pharma and Big Wellness.

One day, we might learn how to let go of false beliefs and telephone-game-based information installed onto our thinking apparatus through the so-called illusory truth effect, to replace them with evolutionary updates as we strive towards a peaceful global family while embracing the beauty of our shared reality of impermanence.

During my DJ career, I learned how to implement my live-looping rig in a club environment and fell in love with extended Minimal and Techno tracks. I started live-remixing them by adding or replacing minor elements with my electric violin, telescopic didgeridoo, percussion, and vocal effects. In 2018, I adapted this technique to a computer-free live-looping environment and started composing everything from scratch in a live audience setting.

I invite you to descend into a meditative, almost psychedelic, trance state. When and where? Yogi’s choice. Some sounds might make you want to dance or enjoy a yoga flow. And some sounds might make you want to mop the floor.

Kava Infused Live Composition on 5-string Electric Violin, Didjeribone, Voice, Percussion 5 Pieces | 1 Hour 20 Minutes Recorded at Space & Light, Hilo, Hawaiʻi Artwork by Markus Mars Photo by Steve Roby UPC 198002406811 ℗ & © 2022 Markus Mars

My third album, Exhibitions, was composed, recorded, and mixed in a live audience setting during an art exhibition in Captain Cook, Hawaii. I recorded the entire concert directly out of my loop station. Inspired by the magical area just south of Kailua-Kona, I let the moment carry me towards a deep reconnection with the history of Hawai'i around the time of its first contact with Westerners in 1778 in Kealakekua Bay. I let the exhibition visitors' interactions guide me from room to room, imagined the empty walls without any stunning artwork, and created an audible journey from the grand opening to those final handshakes.

Exhibitions Live Composition on 5-string Electric Violin, Didjeribone, Voice, Percussion 4 Pieces | 46 Minutes Recorded at Art Exhibition, Kealakekua Bay, Hawaiʻi Artwork by Markus Mars UPC 195079641633 ℗ & © 2020 Markus Mars

When I returned to the Perfect Harmony Tea Room in Hilo, I wasn’t sure how it would feel. Would I be able to recreate what happened when I composed my debut album, Perfect Harmony, at the same venue just a year prior?

At the same time, I reflected on my journey and saw how this entire new path of making music was never really about recreating something. Not even about creating something perfect. It was about tuning into the present moment and accepting it as it is.

When I arrived, I found myself welcomed warmly, and just entering the space filled me with joy. Throughout the year, I had come here many times to sit, sip delicious tea, and reflect on life. The room was much quieter than the busyness of the streets in downtown Hilo. Yes, one could hear traffic from time to time through the door in the back, but the gentle music, wonderful incense, and occasional ring of the front store’s doorbell felt like a calming blanket, allowing for a moment of grounding.

I also enjoyed meeting travelers there, occasionally getting lost in deep conversation with a stranger before returning to a book or typing up ideas on my laptop. That same slowing-down sensation entered my body when I walked in with my instruments to set up. After a brief soundcheck, I started greeting guests and slowly made my way to my spot. As always, I put down a carpet, placed my instruments and pedals all around me, and this time, I also brought lights to fill the space with purple ambient illumination.

I always name my albums and tracks during the mastering process, after the concert, because I have no idea what is going to happen before I create the first sound. Everything happens in the now. Everything is as it is, and somehow finds its way onto the final recording.

The concert went well, and I really enjoyed the new vibe. One amazing element of offering live sounds to a group of people is the instant feedback in the present moment. I play with my eyes closed for the most part, but occasional glimpses down toward my pedals, or moments of switching to a different instrument, allowed me to peek into the room and see with my eyes what I already felt with my heart.

Alien Origins came to me as a title while I was editing the recording into individual tracks. I was reflecting on my life, my existence, and this experience on Earth. Around that time, I had started describing myself as an alien in a human space suit. After migrating from Austria to the U.S., I was assigned an alien registration number, and whenever I had to file paperwork, I was reminded that I was, legally speaking, an alien.

I found this both funny and strangely resonant. At the same time, the separation of origins through words can contribute to keeping distance alive instead of helping us grow closer together.

What kind of species are we? And why do we think of our shared planet as a ball with a to-be-artificially-fragmented surface, flying through space with mind-blowing speed while spinning around an incredibly hot, much larger ball? The sheer imagination of this image should make us enjoy this joyride together, value each other’s existence, and embrace the beauty that surrounds us, no?

As the title of the album manifested, I thought of the incredible fun I’ve had in my life, but also the suffering I endured throughout childhood, adolescence, and later on. Putting oneself into perspective can quickly make us diminish our own suffering. We may think that other people’s suffering is worse, or much worse, and therefore our own pain should not be seen as important or significant. Yet the stress response in our bodies can be very similar, no matter the stressor, and in the moment, the mind does not always distinguish threat levels from a big-picture perspective while they unfold.

My entire life, I have been trying to “find my tribe,” as they say. Living in Hawaiʻi taught me a great lesson about tribal thinking in our modern day and age: how wonderful it can feel in times of seeking connection, and how quickly tribalism can become destructive, limiting creative thinking and binding people to the limits of a tribal tribune or an all-controlling guru.

So where was I when I composed this album?

Musically, a misfit. Economically, a misfit. Educationally, a misfit.

Always trying to fit in while sticking out — often unconsciously. In that way, the word “misfit” and the word “alien” started speaking to the same feeling from different directions: one from within, one from the outside.

This alienation within what felt like an alien nation made me reflect night after night in the jungles of Puna, while listening to the coqui frogs. In 2019, however, I already lived in Kamuela, and my life had changed significantly. A couple of years prior, I met a human being who showed me that the alien in me was as welcome as anybody else. This human accepted me completely as I was, and that encounter became one of the important creative sparks that opened my path as a live composer.

Alien Origins is a piece of audible artwork that everyone present helped paint with their presence, their listening, and their soul on the canvas of my instruments. And even though I have felt like an alien from time to time, that night I felt welcome, once again.

This new way of live performance — unpredictable, unrepeatable, and one of a kind — is created in a state of interbeing with the present moment, our beautiful planet, the universe, and all its entities.

Alien Origins Live Composition on 5-string Electric Violin, Didjeribone, Voice, Percussion 7 Pieces | 1 Hour 34 Minutes Recorded at Perfect Harmony Tea Room, Hilo, Hawaiʻi Artwork by Markus Mars UPC 194171626081 ℗ & © 2019 Markus Mars

Being classically trained, I grew up practicing violin with sheet music, learning piece after piece and performing them as best I could in front of an audience. I can't remember a single concert or recital I wasn't filled with stage fright from head to toe. Stepping on stages, small or large, and feeling pairs of eyes pinning me down to almost unbearable paralyzation, it took me great Überwindung to make it through the concertos and etudes.

Feeling judged from start to finish became part of the game, and only when I was playing with an orchestra or band, becoming one with the many, did I feel somewhat laid back.

Transitioning from classical music to contemporary music, jazz, rock, hard rock, pop, funk, fusion, and electronic music in my 20s, joining bands and DJs for partially improvised shows, I started enjoying playing music more and more. I soon realized that jazz is as rules-heavy as classical music, and it took me another five years to realize that squeezing a cube into a round hole only works if the cube is smaller than the diameter of said hole. In my case, it felt like squeezing a Star Trek Borg cube through the ear of a needle. Was I not smart enough to sit down and get those rules into my head? Or was I already saturated with rules and ready to un-rule or at least partially deconstruct rules to make space for something new to emerge?

Why did I enter the flow state whenever I played music freely, losing myself in sounds for hours and days on end, while at the same time, it often felt like a burden whenever I had to sit down and practice jazz theory or classical theory?

One thing that stood out was this warm, bright feeling of freedom whenever I fully let go. Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful for an in-depth classical training and music theory foundation. But in hindsight, I'd have enjoyed the journey more had I been allowed to play more often than study hard.

And then there was this one day when I was asked to play a last-minute solo gig at a small cafe. I said yes, and after hanging up, I thought, wait a minute, what just happened? Why did I agree to play a solo gig if I have A) never done this before and B) don't have a solo repertoire? After that phone call, the first stop was the local music store, where I bought a loop station and a small amp. I headed home, fired up that thing, and spent a few hours familiarizing myself with the basics before heading to the gig.

At this stage, I have performed over 2,000 gigs in over 30 countries and collaborated with numerous renowned artists, bands, DJs, and orchestras worldwide. However, I couldn’t recall ever feeling this nervous. Sitting in the car and driving up the coast, I remember listening to Andrew Bird's Echolocations album. And to this day, it has been one of the most influential inspirations for my solo live-looping journey.

When I arrived at the cafe, I wired up my minimalist setup, did a quick soundcheck, took some time to step outside, and then went back inside and started my gig. The moment I played the first note, my nervousness completely disappeared, and I entered a state of pure flow. I had nothing planned, no idea what would happen, no clue if it would be well-received. However, I couldn't care less while playing music. I felt like playing live for the first time, not performing live. I felt my entire musical career disappear into a black hole, only to reappear on the other side as one bright white ball of light.

Soon after this gig, I contacted Perfect Harmony in Hilo, Hawai'i, to book a gig there. When the date was confirmed, a thought popped up: would what had happened at that first gig happen again? Or was this a one-time thing, never to be repeated? Welcome back, anxiety. Welcome back, uncertainty.

I fell in love with this hideaway from noisy downtown Hilo and remember enjoying gallons of delicious teas while reading and simply being in the space. How would the perception of the space change once I've filled it with the vibrations of my creations? Will it even be creations, or will it be a co-creation of animate beings and inanimate objects? Was there even such a thing as inanimate objects, now that we know everything is vibration?

The day arrived. I headed to the tea room to set up my gear and did a quick soundcheck. Only two people were in the room when I started my concert. I felt relieved and worried at the same time. Fewer eye pairs were staring at me: relief. Only two people were interested in what I had to offer: worry.

I should mention that I normally play with in-ear headphones and my eyes closed. This allows me to submerge myself in the sounds fully and decouple from shared reality during creation. That said, when I opened my eyes again after my first piece, the room had filled up. I later named this track Perfect Opening. It felt as if people entered the space without knowing what was about to happen, curious to witness the process of music coming into existence—which became the theme of my creations. As one listener later told me, it wasn’t a concert but an experience.

Throughout the evening, I explored my entire musical journey, going back to the bare beginnings of pizzicato only at age five to layering massive amounts of orchestral waves, allowing space for baroque soli, transitioning into funky bow chops, and flowing into ethereal soundscapes of vast intergalactic sound spaces, warmth, love, and joy. Whenever I opened my eyes, things slightly changed, people transitioning almost in sync with the music from sitting to standing, from stillness to movement, from reading to drawing, from sipping tea to meditating with eyes closed. It was a beautiful evening of unforgettable inspiration and ignited the fire of live creation, which I carry to this moment and am most grateful for.

It turned out that both my earlier thoughts came true: It had happened again, and I completely submerged myself in playfulness. And: It was a one-time thing, never to be repeated, as each note, sound, and noise were created in the moment, never to be repeated the same way.

Impermanence at its finest.

You are now invited to dive deep into the album Live at Perfect Harmony. If you have reflections, thoughts, or feedback you would like to share, feel free to leave a comment below. You might discover new elements, aspects, and feelings each time you listen to this album.

I consider my compositions an audible artwork.

Perfect Harmony Live Composition on 5-string Electric Violin 6 Pieces | 50 Minutes Recorded at Perfect Harmony Tea Room, Hilo, Hawaiʻi Artwork by Markus Mars UPC 193428136120 ℗ & © 2018 Markus Mars