On the one hand, he is a hermit, this man – one simply doesn’t meet him that often. On the other hand, Wolfgang Mitterer is sighted in very different places. For a festival of classical music he writes a piece of forest music for three woodcutters. On other days you can hear him in jazz clubs performing on the keyboard in love with clusters and extraordinary squeaking and whining sounds. He writes pieces like Fisis in which three conductors have to wiggle their batons, but also presents his audience with a Sunday morning of organ emotions in which he, among other things, evokes the baroque loftiness of Bach and Frescobaldi. Mitterer? He is a representative of this very rare species of flexible musical minds and an inhabitant of very different sound planets.