Metal Machine Music I

The summer holidays. In these times, I like to take brisk walks, and see what nature and the city has to offer.

Once I came across an old man with a strange device. It resembled a hurdy-gurdy, yet it also clearly was not. The player, bearded, waking cane resting next to him, was setting up his interesting contraption as I came passing by. I stopped in my stride and observed the situation. The machine seemed highly technical and complex, though there were no visible wires of any sort protruding from it. He himself did not pay me any mind, absorbed in his work.

Other passersby glanced, but no one else had any time to rest here. Eventually, preparations were completed, as the artist flicked a hidden switch. Upon this, the machine started emitting a faint buzzing noise, as is often the case with electrical machines, such as older refrigerators.

Then, very swiftly, he started to push a multitude of buttons, invisible to the observers‘ eyes.

This resulted in little figurines, made out of tin, emerging from the rectangular instrument which started moving across the play space. Said space was decorated with humble abodes as in the olden days; a church, town square, everything that makes a miniature city come alive and feel real.

The little figures, soldiers, farmers and other similar professions, moved with life-like precision, without the robotic gait we usually associate with clockwork machinery. They did remind me of clock tower machinations, in which every hour the contraption sets loose a chain of pre-planned events for the enjoyment of observers below.

However, this mechanical theater was built differently. The motions of the presumably lifeless actors were fluid and brisk, as if possessed by an animated spirit of sorts.

The old man was diligently absorbed in his creation. After the figures moved and choreographed for a while, they started congregating in the middle of the festively ornamented town square for a parade of sorts. And indeed, the tiny tin men and women started singing. It sounded amusing at first, very high-pitched, how someone must imagine mice or little rodents singing. I could not make out the exact words, but there were beautiful layers of harmony and quite a lot of thought and care put into this act.

Strangely, while the song was being sung, the old man did not move, nor did I see him press any button or even put a hand on his strange device. He must have programmed it in advance.

Time was running short, so I had to take my leave. I pondered whether the old man should receive monetary compensation for his endeavors, when something truly bizarre happened.