Tell us a bit more about the architecture and visual aspect of the Endless House…

“Well, I won’t patronise you by confirming that the project’s title took its name from Friedrich Kiesler’s work. We wanted to create a supremely modernist space, and one that related to the content and experiences that took place within it. The work of the young JG Ballard, I think, had also been on my mind, and – in my wildest imagination – I believed that the construction was somehow part of the music itself…This is crazy, of course, but I think that Walter Schnaffs’ ‘I Am Germany’, for example, captures an uncanny audio footprint of what the place felt like to be in: multi-textured, multi-dimensional (sometimes cavernous, sometimes vast) and as amorphous as we could possibly make it. Don’t forget, too, that there were generously stocked ‘workshop’ areas for musicians/artists/creators to develop their ideas away from the glare of public performance. That is, if you take Rasmus Folk, for example, who has this great reputation for laissez-faire philandering – the reality was that he worked very hard in these workshops, often putting in 6-7 hours behind the scenes composing the works that he would perform by night.

“‘Avant-garde with a smile on its face’ was the phrase I repeated to the artists working underneath me.”

Were there any prior party or club experiences that fed into the idea of the Endless House, that inspired you to do your own thing? What did you want the EH to provide that couldn’t be found elsewhere?

“Well, yes, you must remember that I had been editor of Otium International, a popular fashion/culture magazine in the late 60s, so it’s fair to say that my eyes had long been widened to the bright lights of debauchery. To intellectualise it, I suppose I was interested in the creative power of the ‘party’, the collaborative energy and force of like-minded people simply getting together to have fun. This, combined with what I had read about things like Kommune 1, inspired me to pursue the dream of Endless House. Music was supposed to be the fire-place around which people gathered at this ‘party’, and my hope was that it would ignite the creativity of all who attended. By that I mean, even though there were obvious ‘star residents’ (Rasmus, Felix, Johannus etc), everyone – even the pure pleasure seeking ‘fans’ – was part of the symposium.

How did you meet the acquaintance of the various artists who contributed to the Endless House, and what drew you to their work? Have you kept in contact with them in the subsequent years?

“The first thing to say here is that – although I considered myself the ‘creative overlord’ of all things Endless House – I always had a considerable team of artistic directors working for me. I called them my ‘aesthetic engineers’, and they took immediate responsibility for the programming and recruitment of ‘elite’ residents. The Maecenas to my Augustus, if you like. Anyway, so the vast majority of the talent came through them, and I would simply voice my approval or otherwise. Johannus (Arpensium) I knew personally, and he is the one I have kept in touch with to this day.

“What drove the programming? Well, I suppose I wanted anyone whom I believed brought interest and charisma to the world of electronic music. I wasn’t interested in the aridity of much of the early electronic music I had seen…this was about forces of personality. ‘Avant-garde with a smile on its face’ was the phrase I repeated to the artists working underneath me. I wanted waves of synthetic sound that could act a drama, and soaring arpeggios that whispered you stories.

“I’m still not sure if it was a dream or a nightmare.”

Talk us through the opening night of the Endless House, and the final night. Also, what are your salient memories of the Endless House? Any stand-out moments?

“Opening night was the most anxious of my life. As the Dramatic Records sleeve notes will tell you, Felix Uran and Rasmus Folk were the dream duo to make the impression we wanted. I will never forget the force of Uran’s ‘Baltic Expo’, the perfect standard-bearer for the club’s aesthetic mission. His Modular synthesizers cut through the House’s vast main atrium like a rainbow of laser beams, and the words he sang – of new technologies, new communities – were the club’s manifesto made lyric. As for Rasmus…Well, where to begin? ‘Coupe’ lifted us all up like on some kind of benign, warming tidal wave, a moment where a hint of St Tropez glamour washed over our forest community. The debauchery of the Endless House has sometimes been exaggerated, but – no question – Rasmus’s opening set was the soundtrack to a suitably liberal-minded evening.

“Just six weeks later, however, things were over as soon as they had begun. We were losing sums of money I wouldn’t want to share with you, many of the fans/participants had gone home due to the remoteness of the location, and the relative hostility of the living conditions, and I knew I had to finish it there and then. In a moment of absolute clarity, I called all the remaining attendees (there can’t have been more than 70, including resident artists!) up to the Endless House library, and told them we would be going home in an hour. There would be one last set and – much to their disbelief – I was going to play it…I spoke to them as I played, selecting my favourite moments from the archives, and – with our cars waiting outside – I played the final track at The Endless House: ‘Warum ist alles so schnell passiert?’ (‘Why Did It Happen So Fast?’). We said goodbye amidst the final throbs and sobs of my Moog Sonic Six, and then – as if a procession – we filed out to the men and women who would take us home. It had lasted six weeks, and I’m still not sure if it was a dream or a nightmare.”

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