Orpheus says: The world is getting smaller and smaller. Roswitha says: Then at least let’s blow
big horns. The cosmopolitan, philosopher and artist Roswitha Pross put her words into action
and at the end of the 90ies it became reality. Our fabulous shared artist residence got a new flat
mate: a four-meter-long alphorn, which made itself comfortable in our Moroccan room. Nobody
knew of this surprise guest yet. But when we arrived home late that night one after the other, it
was impossible to miss.
On a white Berber carpet, resting its head on a red oriental cushion, it was slumbering peacefully
in front of us, the well formed monster from the Alps. Roswitha had brought the giant piece from
Wallis, where she had attended a photo session at the reception of the Swiss professional
yodelers a couple of days earlier. “Come on, let`s wake it up”, said Roswitha and caressed it
gently across its bare neck. She lifted it carefully, her lips touched the mouth piece and:
„ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖHHH...“
„Ooooh!“, I thought, „with the sound of an alphorn at night, everything will sure be alright“. An
affectionate, spherical, incredibly voluminous sound filled the room. Our neighbors felt the same,
by the way. The next morning they all said they thought they had been dreaming about the Queen
Mary on the Isar river.
Yes, alphorns do inspire dreams! All of us that awoke during that legendary night and blew
Roswitha’s alphorn inspired dreams! The world-embracing idea of the Munich Alphorn Collective
was born. Roswitha’s first horn multiplied quickly. By now there are ten of them. Multicultural in
black and white. Played by enthusiastic real individualists. In the flow of continually new
formations. That is how they blow across countries and continents, in deserts and caves, on
mountains and summits, with kettledrums and trumpets, with choirs and tenors. Endlessly open
for everything that creates joy and makes dreams come true. Sam Lazay