24. October 2025

The Birth of a Name – and a Philosophy

“Le Chaos, ou l’origine du monde” – “Chaos or the origin of the world”

It was almost unconscious, the moment we settled on the name Kölner Chaos Orchester. At first glance, the word chaos evokes what we instinctively associate with it: disorder. Disorder as a rebellion against the established order, a deconstruction, a deliberate mixing of elements to rebuild something entirely new.But later, as I reflected on the name, I realized its deeper resonance—one rooted in mythology and cosmogony.

Chaos is far more than mere disarray. In Greek mythology, it is the primordial void, the elemental god that existed before all else. A tangled mass where even light had not yet broken through, where the first steps of creation were still unformed. From this Chaos emerged the foundations of existence:
Éros (Love), Gaïa (Earth), Ouranos (Sky), Érèbe (Darkness), Nyx (Night), Héméra (Day), and Éther (the Light of Day).
This past Sunday at Studio Musikfabrik, our concert – Monophonies – began with its own Big Bang. The Greeks intuited it; scientists later named it. And so did we, in the first three minutes of an hour-long journey. The theory of chaos in physics describes systems so sensitive that a butterfly’s flutter in Brazil might trigger a storm in Cologne. In the KCO, this principle lives: a single musical gesture from one player ripples through the orchestra, met seconds later by a roar, a whisper, or a drone from another corner of the room.
As philosopher Raphaël Liogier writes in Khaos: La promesse trahie de la modernité (2023):

“In Antiquity, the Greek khaos—which gave us the Latin chaos—referred to the void: a positive void, brimming with potential, something too vast to be confined by representation.”

This is the Chaos we embody. Not an absence, but a plenitude—a teeming, boundless space of possibility. And it is this meaning that must guide us.

*(Illustration: “Le Chaos, ou l’origine du monde” by Bernard Picart, dit le Romain (1673–1733), between 1730 and 1733—because every beginning is a kind of beautiful disorder.)*

 

 

 

 

A Thank You to the Architects of the Void

This past weekend, the KCO proved that chaos, when channeled with intention, becomes creation. The concert was a testament to what happens when professional rigor meets radical openness—when an orchestra of diverse backgrounds, united by curiosity, dares to roar, bellow, sing, whisper, growl, drum, and drone into existence something entirely new.
None of this would have been possible without our office and stage team, whose dedication turned potential into reality, from the efforts and care put into video, sound and light as well as the documentation of the evening and the flawless organization that made the chaos functional. Last but not least, Axel Porath, for being the ideal partner in this adventure.
The musicians of the KCO rose to the occasion because they saw how seriously we took this project. When they witnessed five professional cameras, meticulous lighting, and an infrastructure built with care, it signaled: This matters. And so they played as if the stakes were infinite—because, in a way, they were.

Why This Matters: The Radical Power of Amateur Art

Contemporary music is often seen as elite, inaccessible—a world of specialists speaking a language only they understand. But the KCO exists to challenge that notion. By treating amateur musicians as essential collaborators, we’re not just making music; we’re making a statement about what music can be. Without amateurs, there is no future for bold, experimental art. The industry’s polished, three-minute formats won’t nurture the next generation of sonic explorers. If we want musicians brave enough to venture beyond the mainstream, we must democratize the strange, the uncharted, the gloriously imperfect. The KCO is a step in that direction—a space where experimentation is celebrated, where “mistakes” become discoveries, and where the boundaries between “amateur” and “professional” dissolve. This is only the beginning. The KCO is still growing, still evolving. There are younger musicians to bring in, new voices to amplify, and endless possibilities for how this orchestra can expand and thrive. The energy from this weekend is just the first ripple—what comes next is up to all of us.

The Work Continues

The beauty of chaos is that it doesn’t end. It keeps moving, keeps transforming. The ideas sparked this weekend—new music, new structures, new ways of working together—won’t disappear. They’ll take shape in rehearsals, in conversations, in the spaces we open up for one another.Because in the end, chaos isn’t something to be controlled. It’s something to listen to, to trust, and to let unfold. To the KCO, to the team, to everyone who believes in the power of the unruly and the alive—thank you. The best is still emerging from the void.