Resonances of Light begins not with a concept but with a decision: three musicians agree to abandon their usual reflexes and walk into the rehearsal room almost empty‑handed. For this project, trombonist Angelo Contini, filmmaker and sound artist Francesco Paolo Paladino, and electronic/keyboard explorer Riccardo Sinigaglia set aside the comfort of their established idioms to build, week after week, a new shared language from scratch. The original premise was simple and quietly radical: treat their meetings as an open laboratory, a place to test how far improvised music and contemporary alternative jazz can be stretched when no one is allowed to lean on genre codes, virtuoso display or pre‑existing roles.

Those weekly encounters became the real compositional engine of Resonances of Light. Rather than preparing material at home, the trio chose to compose in real time, with tape or hard drive as their only score. Each session was an exercise in active un‑learning: Contini refusing the familiar gravitational pull of jazz phrasing on the trombone, Paladino treating sound not as accompaniment to imagery but as a self‑sufficient, tactile substance, Sinigaglia resisting the lure of harmonic progressions he could summon almost in his sleep. In their place came a heightened attention to microscopic detail - breath in the brass, mechanical noise in the electronics, the way a single sustained tone can colour the room when allowed to hang in the air. Silence, too, became a partner rather than an absence, carving out spaces where the next sound could arrive without obligation. Within this deliberately stripped‑back framework, Resonances of Light maps out a territory where labels quickly lose their meaning.

At times, the music brushes close to free jazz, but the expected explosions never quite come; instead, Contini’s horn might hover on a narrow band of pitch, worrying its grain until it frays, while Sinigaglia smears faint keyboard harmonics around it like halos. Elsewhere, Paladino introduces textures that feel borrowed from electroacoustic composition or sound art - distant hums, brittle crackle, near‑field objects - yet they are always woven into the live, breathing interplay rather than dropped in as fixed backdrops. The trio’s commitment to mutual listening and creative dialogue means there is no soloist, no accompanist, no rhythm section to fall back on. Every sound enters the field with the same weight, and any of the three can tilt the music in a new direction with a single gesture.