English translation – originally published in Catalan in Sonograma Magazine April 23, 2026. Written by Hal Masonberg.
Original article: https://sonograma.org/2026/04/jazz-hands-i-altres-revelacions/
As a creative person, I find myself drawn to the subtleties of human expression, the inner life that coexists in tandem with our outer forms of expression, communication and dissemination. There are the stories and revelations that we consciously share and divulge, our psychological and emotional confessions and discoveries. Then there are those less intentional manifestations of disclosure and unmasking, of emotional vulnerability, humility and fragility oftentimes mixed with a boundless and immeasurable fortitude of spirit.
It can be as simple as the study of a human face, either captured in motion and revealing its ever-evolving psychological landscape (as seen in film and video), or in a frozen moment in time (as revealed in still photographs), that can extend a fraction of a second into an eternity of emotional and narrative possibility.
Though photographs by their very nature are 2-dimensional interpretations of a 3-dimensional world, they can nonetheless force us to focus on specific dimensional elements that might otherwise go unnoticed. I find myself frequently drawn to the hands of musicians which interact directly with the musical instruments that have been crafted and envisioned to create not just specific tones, notes and chords, but entire landscapes sculpted from both our conscious and unconscious. The dexterity and complexity of fingers moving along an instrument’s body, a combination of skill, application and theory mixed with trust, respect and the desire to express and share. A musical instrument becomes, for many musicians, an intimate structure, a tool, a partner even. It has its own resonance, its own texture and dexterity, its own resilience and frailties. As with the body of a lover or a mate, a unique relationship often emerges between musician and instrument. Musicians learn the intimate details of the instrument’s body, its scratches and dents, it’s rough or polished frame, its spheres of both dexterity and restriction. Even its varying temperatures.
With many musical instruments – though certainly not all – it is through the complex and organic movement of our hands and feet that we quite literally transmit our innermost sensations, postulations and aspirations into sound. Even when the instrument is voice, the hands still generate pinpoint expression. They catch and caress, surge and dip and tap as the music glides between and around the fingers and throughout the body. It is a detailed and harmonious exchange. When we combine this gesture with others also engaged in the act of musical metamorphoses, we birth a communal conversation about the human journey itself with all of its mysteries, apprehensions, joys and discoveries.
When engaged in music photography, I oftentimes find myself focusing on hands and fingers literally in concert with the textures and character of an instrument, on its beauty, its imperfections and its transcendent potentiality. Beyond this focus almost always lingers the movement, gyrations and somatic interpretations of what is being felt and conveyed by the human being at the core of this ambition and yearning. The result oftentimes reveals a relationship, an affinity, that might otherwise go unnoticed by those in attendance. It is almost a private moment captured in public. We become voyeurs of a psychological and spiritual intimacy that can be masked or distracted from in the public setting of a stage with its lights and layout and, depending on audience placement, distance.
It is via the exploration of these fleeting and oftentimes ethereal moments that we are given the opportunity to see even more clearly the sublime magic that is an enduring and inseparable ingredient in the ancient ritual of music-making.
