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10 August 2024
Stockholm, Sweden
These last days in Europe, in cool, rainy Stockholm, really do feel like the end of the summer, too. Then there are the characteristically long summer evenings, the light suffusing pinks and lavenders and dull yellows like a painter mixing a watercolour palette. Stockholm isn’t a ‘business’ trip by any means but a celebration of two great friends both embarking on a new journey together that could not be more deserved or timely. In the past, the indulgence of travel without a specific self-serving purpose would produce a heavy anxiety in me, if such travel were even affordable or realistic in the first place; these days, in rather different times, it just makes me think about what one gains and what one misses being singularly focused on work, a trajectory, a ‘life’ but not perhaps a life fully lived.
Hong Kong is calling after an all-too-brief stop in the United States to see my beloved family- each precious day feels like one stolen from time, too, and increasingly so. Later this month, on a world premiere I unfortunately can’t attend, Quatuor Arod will play my String Quartet no. 2 (2024) written for them in Wissembourg, France, and the autumn should have a variety of things I’ve already mentioned far too often in the past- various performances of the String Quartet no. 2 in Europe, the European premiere of a completely new version of Vivacissimo (2023), the world premiere of Otherhood (2022) in Finland, and a screening and conference centered around Russia: Today (2020) in Oxford, UK. Throughout all this, I’ll be planning the German premiere of that piece in spring 2025 (it will be a busy one, as The Once and Future (2021) will also come to Europe for the first time!) perhaps alongside something in Asia, too.
I’m also looking forward to writing something new again, including getting an ambitious project that’s sort of fallen by the wayside back on track. The two weeks in Berlin helped clarify some further plans with regard to venues, collaborations, and funding. It will be an incredibly busy autumn but one in which I hope to create more time and use it more wisely than in the past, when so much energy had gone to fulfilling obligations that were never mine in the first place, or expecting something out of collaborations that ended up slightly less than fair. Case in point, the Vivacissimo that audiences will hear in Kunsthaus will be one fully under my creative control with a major visual artist and a Swiss dancer/choreographers. Let’s see what happens.
30 July 2024
Berlin, Germany
Only on very few occasions have I passed Berlin by- perhaps even more so than London, this truly is the capital of classical music in the world. But I have seen the city from very different perspectives, first as a student spending my first summers abroad on my own, living in the quiet southwest of the city (and exploring the ‘scary’ East), then through various visits, speaking at a conference for Tenso – the European network for chamber choirs back in 2015, and more recently working on The Once and Future (2021) with the Berliner Philharmoniker members and more. I discovered new neighborhoods then, made new memories, saw different sides of an ever-changing city. Today, I found myself with a new vista yet again, exploring the vast Funkhaus complex in the east of the city, a pantheon to recording and perhaps also venue(s) for current and future projects.
But soon, back in Hong Kong- the first order of business, besides teaching and some new responsibilities at the HKBU Academy of Music is a soon-to-be-publicized seminar/discussion I will lead with the creative team of the latest Wayne MacGregor production, a collaboration with the West Kowloon Cultural District. In advance of a busy autumn with the world premiere of Otherhood (2022) upcoming as well as the European debut of Vivacissimo (2023) at the Zurich Kunsthaus and others, a conversation on the intervention (or, rather, intrusion?) of artificial intelligence into our creative process should be a fun way to launch the autumn.
And in the meantime, next month will come the world premiere of the new String Quartet no. 2 (2024) with the Quatuor Arod at the Festival International de Musique de Wissembourg- quite unfortunately I won’t be able to make it but far more likely will be my attendance at a performance of the same piece in yet another city I know well (from various perspectives): Firenze, in November.
19 July 2024
Jura, France
Jura really hasn’t changed but I’ve never seen it like this. It’s been more than a decade – in fact, all of fifteen years – since I’ve visited this region, so centrally located in Europe and yet so entirely remote. The gray houses with light blue shutters, the ‘made-for-a-movie’ bakeries and cheese shops, all of it, are just the same as they were in 2009, and just the same, probably, as they were one hundred years ago, before the wars and modernity changed the face of the European continent. Not so much the French Jura- these deep valleys covered in Savagnin (and no, that’s not a typo to the faux-wine snobs) plantings are about as French as France would aspire to be. It’s filmic. And on this visit, I hope not to make the newspaper.
Rather, in the press this week has been En vertu de… (2021), the first as an exclusive interview with the Artistic Director and General Manager of the Théâtres de la Ville de Luxembourg. When asked for the definitive work of his tenure at the top of the world-class house in Luxembourg, Tom said (and I transfer somewhat roughly), “I am thinking of the show conceived during the pandemic and production of which was stopped because of it. It is a diptych of operas with the title “Zu unseren Brüdern, zu unseren Schwestern” combining the world premiere of the opera “En vertu de…” by the composer Eugene Birman, and “Der Kaiser von Atlantis” by Viktor Ullmann with the staging of Stéphane Ghislain Roussel. The meaning of this diptych clearly posed the question what lesson can be learned from the catastrophe of the Second World War? How can we not repeat our mistakes, learn from our faults, avoid fatality? The show is an alert, a call to consciences. It will be revived in 2024-25 in Saarbrücken, Ghent / Antwerp and Geneva…. It is a good example of a show that is both critical and philosophical, and which encourages creation.”
And then, this brilliant promotional video covering the last four years of enoa‘s remarkable activities in the space of contemporary opera. It was precisely five years ago that I first became involved in the organization, invited to be Artist-in-Residence at the 2018 Helsinki Festival under the curation of Topi Lehtipuu, who has since then become a friend and very close collaborator. Indeed, through enoa, I have met numerous friends, colleagues, many collaborators, and have had truly life-changing encounters with world-class organisations, thinkers, and musicians. I say this not out of promotion or responsibility, even, but out of gratitude. It has been transformational. In that little video, you’ll catch a glimpse of En vertu de… as well. In transforming opera, enoa has transformed us creators, too.
8 July 2024
Salento, Italy
The sky is so different from East and West. As the world becomes more globalised and homogenised (though I’d venture to say that the one of the pandemic’s few good consequences has been to un-do this trend), places look more and more like, it’s rather incredible that the thing that actually is entirely the same ends up looking so very different. The hazy yellows, burnt reds, the washed-out evening lights and heavy morning mist is nowhere to be found past a certain point on the rapidly turning globe, somewhere between the Himalayas and the Arabian peninsula where things turn clear, blue, and rather ‘primary’. That’s not to say that life is more exciting on the other side, just that when we all look to the stars, not even the positions, but even the prism, are the same.
That is all a long introduction into a question on my mind recently, that of how the cultural context matters when we listen to music- the same music is clearly not the same to different audiences, and even with people moving around, festival curation becoming increasingly convergent, where we hear (and how) is always different. I’d say, even for musicians performing, the context of a work and their own geography in performing or recording it. Bringing Vivacissimo (2023) to Europe this autumn, and likewise, the European premiere of The Once and Future (2021) in Antwerp, Belgium next spring, will mean a very different interpretation of those works will happen from the audience’s perspective, and perhaps from the performers’ side as well. In fact, the developments in the latter project, including a completely new costume using the highest-tech materials as part of an incubation residency at Science Park Hong Kong, as well as new staging by my colleague Giorgio Biancorosso, will mean it should look truly quite different even to my own, seasoned eyes.
I am also one season away from the European tour and re-prise of En vertu de… (2021), finally, after many years of waiting and the opera’s premiere during some very difficult circumstances during the pandemic at the European Parliament in Luxembourg. Five or six years later is also a matter of a changed sky, new contexts, and a new reality in Europe (if not globally). Among positives and negatives, wars and political setbacks, that piece’s central focus on the essentiality of human rights is itself an idealistic paean to the fact that, wherever we see it from, the sky really is all the same, and somewhere far up there- blue.
28 June 2024
Salento, Italy
I suppose the big news today is, finally, the release of the performance video of Vivacissimo (2023) on the Institute of Chinese Martial Studies official YouTube channel – this is a piece that I never expected to find so much affinity with, but somehow it happened, and this rather short, twelve-minute work has ended up a sort of definitive book-end on my impossibly busy 2020-2022 when I completed four major works spanning art-tech and social justice. It is very different from those works- shorter, of course, but also even more focused and specific, perhaps even more approachable, and also, when I listen to it, the saddest.
That last characterisation is slightly mysterious but it is also undoubtable and I would be dishonest not to mention it. The work’s intensity stems from a deep despair. Its resolution is both final and unsatisfying- the violoncello trickles out in pizzicati as the martial artists/dancer fades into the darkness in a warlike pose. It is as if both, if they are even separate, musician and dancer must persist in the world just this way, whatever it is. No freedom from themselves, nor from their mind, nor from anything else. Perhaps it is an enforced solitude, too. We continue (and remain) together but alone.
The premiere of Otherhood (2022), that other project completed after the big 2020-2022 period, has also finally been confirmed for 6 October evening at the Helsinki Musiikkitalo. October is also the month when Vivacissimo (2023) should see its European premiere. After composing Os dias mais logos e os mais curtos (2022), I was at a crossroads of where to go; the work just sort of said everything I really wished to say. These two aforementioned works, smaller in scope, but no less so in meaning, propose different directions. I don’t know which I must follow or if I must split myself into unconnected halves, or even further, to only later reconstitute. I just really don’t know. But if the path of a artist is to continually search and in doing so, express at every stage something more raw and unexplored, then- here we are, and will be.
18 June 2024
Kolkata, India
I remember learning ages ago in grade school the difference between kinetic and potential energy- the one active, the other static. Yet rarely does the difference feel more ‘academic’ than now, when so many things are in motion and it is only a matter of time before they break out and, well, entropy ensues. On the surface it feels like a relaxing summer, but I’ve got twenty minutes of music to write more less before the month is out (back to old traditions circa 2020-2022!) for the first stage of an immersive work in the realm of martial arts, and just as much if not more to prepare in advance of the world premiere of Otherhood (2022) in the autumn in Helsinki, Finland, among others. And, let’s say, there will be some modifications to my duties in Hong Kong about which I’m tremendously excited, too.
Despite a sort-of round-the-clock working schedule, I dread any proper ‘vacation’- the little weekend escapes to Southeast Asia and elsewhere had been incredibly revitalising and the prospect of anything longer than that seems like far too much time spent idle. Yet, that downtime can also be the source of very crucial steps forward (or sideways) in one’s musical journey. I recall some remarkably unproductive periods which nevertheless have stuck with me as references of inspiration, or a new way of thinking, all of which might be impossible to directly trace forward into musical works, but nevertheless are somehow personally seminal- those stormy dark mornings in Tallinn, Estonia; a sweltering bus ride through the plains of Sri Lanka in dawn, or the first time I ever glimpsed Kangchenjunga from the Himalayan foothills, just barely two years ago. It is undeniable that if one’s music must truly be an honest representation, then those moments that forever change something inside extend to the manuscript paper, too.
It has been a very special, healing time at home, with two busy months of travel and work ahead. I’m not particularly looking forward to jet lag and I’ll miss cooking on an (almost) daily basis, but there is a lot to do and hear and progress. Much like that kinetic vs potential energy example, and forgive me, physicists- things are moving.
8 June 2024
Oakland, CA, USA
Last year around this time, I was in the most distant place imaginable – Easter Island in the middle of the South Pacific, nominally part of Chile. It rained constantly, the electricity would go out, there wasn’t any mobile phone signal, and the heads all pretty much looked the same. But it was utterly magical, too, especially being out in the middle of the ocean, in the midst of a culture seldom known or visited, as if barely on the same planet. Unfamiliarity is such an interesting variable in life, as it splits humanity into those who crave it and those who run away from it. But it is actually rarely so binary, because, as the ‘grass is greener on the other side’ principle often suggests, unfamiliarity is maybe best suited for us when we are perhaps running from something else that we should be addressing instead. These last couple of weeks spent at home, in the most familiar environment have been diametrically (and, perhaps one can laughingly say, ‘polar’) opposite to those a year ago, but then I am also grateful that life allows the one and the other. We need both to find a centre, to be challenged but also to be embraced, and hopefully, one day, if not today- understood.
I think this has a lot to do with my music even if it’s not always clear to me in the process of writing it, how. The notion that as composers we must march into an abyss of complete unfamiliarity and destruction (of the past), and if not destruction, we could call it- deconstruction, this is a rather naive idea mainly because, even in the dark, we are still within the frames of our minds, which may (or, very often, may not) be quite closed and facile. Likewise, I have seen and heard enough music that doesn’t even ask the question of ‘what next’ and simply is pleased to fulfil a day’s, or a commission’s work, and this is music that neither challenges nor even really properly exists as anything other than just some notes on a page and a double bar. So familiar that its meaning is elusive and perhaps, simply nonexistent. The question of modernity and the ‘new’ in music is actually a really nuance and highly personal one. What I can say, coming from the perspective of technology and multidisciplinary, is that genuine novelty in composition is expressed through novelty for the audience- what have they never heard or, also very importantly, experienced before? Just by being written today, it does not count as new music. ‘New’ must be earned.
Not to forever persist in the philosophical realm, or complain about anything or anyone in particular, though it has always proven interesting to me how little genuine fellowship there is among composers, probably because of the mistaken belief that ‘new’ is a zero-sum game rather than something that would require a critical and collaborative mass. Instead, I have found far more interesting conversations with people who are actually confronted with all this new stuff- the performers. Having ‘been there, seen that, done that’, new music for them comes with a healthy reality check. And on that note, it was a particular pleasure to workshop a piece very much straddling new and not-so-new, my new String Quartet no. 2 (2024) with the Quatuor Arod, the world premiere of which has finally been penciled in for 22 August 2024 at the Festival International de Musique de Wissembourg in France. The string quartet has traditionally been an idiom that invites the new but then again, the concept of chamber music is inescapably a highly traditional one. And, beyond that, all new string quartets pretty much sound the same. Wonder if mine will?
29 May 2024
Oakland, CA, USA
Things are moving. The last weeks haven’t been the easiest and in fact moments have been downright frustrating, but like clouds zooming past in the sky (quite apparent I’ve been on my share of airplane rides recently!), things are moving and both the Hong Kong Ballet project is finally at ‘final cut’ stage and the video of the December 2023 premiere of Vivacissimo (2023) with the marvellous performance of LiLa will be ready by the end of the month, or so I’m told. In advance of that piece’s European premiere in the autumn, it’ll be such a privilege to not only hear the performance but see the dance choreography and immersive visuals as well.
For the first time in a very long time, as far as I can remember at the moment, actually, I went back and revised a piece. That would be the new String Quartet no. 2 (2024) for Quatuor Arod. After our very productive sessions in Taipei last month, I wanted to work on the piece a little bit more, especially a key section towards the end which I exchanged completely for something a little bit more like what I imagined before the piece even took shape. That may require a little explaining- often, if not always, I imagine a sort of musical signature or ‘concept’ for the piece before any of the details come into place, an identity or a point of departure. And certainly the latest work had one as well, which, as is usual for me in the next phase, became integrated into a more specific form and direction. That initial musical signature, now, has found a way back to the piece and despite this upsetting my usual way of working in many senses, I think it’s a healthy disruption to the flow of things. And embracing disruption in one’s own art is a lovely opportunity.
The next days will see not so much disruption as catching up on a variety of things. It’s nice to be home, too- the most beautiful part of the year in the San Francisco area.
19 May 2024
Kinabalu National Park, Malaysia
It’s an especially long way home and not one that was planned long ago but ahead of a busy and rather exciting summer, the very brief look at Malaysia’s absolutely magical tallest mountain was something of a dream. It remains so.
The last week in Hong Kong passed in a flash, with meetings from figures from all over the cultural landscape, and even saw some unexpectedly beautiful weather. A highlight was re-meeting my long-time (and long-lost, one could say) collaborator, pianist and composer Michael Stephen Brown, in Hong Kong for a couple of recitals with violinist Arnaud Sussmann for Premiere Performances HK, hence this rather happy photo. It rekindled a little tiny bit of faith in Hong Long as a cultural centre after plenty of reasons to extinguish the notion. And even with some disappointments, there are triumphs. Some final revisions to the new String Quartet no. 2 (2024) for Quatuor Arod and final preparations for the premiere of Otherhood (2022) in October in Helsinki, not to mention some good movement on other things, gives me some added hope in myself, too.
I’ll be in California for a short, but meaningful, period. I never planned to segment my life so deliberately into hemispheres of family (United States) and work (Europe and Asia) but it just happened that way and perhaps it may yet change one day again. One could do far worse, be far less inspired, less free, less barely a 3 hour flight from tropical paradise and so on- I am very lucky and look desperately forward to all the wonderful things to come.
9 May 2024
Taipei, Taiwan
Taiwan is, simply put, a fascinating place. Taipei itself doesn’t look much like anything- take out Taipei 101, that iconic super-skyscraper, and it could be pretty much any major city in Japan (not so much China, in fact), enclosed by a very scenic ring of impossibly lush, green mountains: nondescript mid-rise buildings, wide streets, clean sidewalks, brilliant food on every corner. I’m not trying to focus on the cityscape, really, but it is a very interesting place to arrive to, because it straddles cultures and geographies, even eras, for few places get the mix of tradition and modernity quite as effortlessly as here. But this is not a sightseeing trip- today, I feel quite fortunate to get to hear the first notes of a really miniature String Quartet (2024), my second, written for, and commissioned by, the Paris-based Quatuor Arod.
Interesting to meet in Taiwan, then, when Europe would be rather more logical, but then, Arod is an incredibly international ensemble, with performances spanning continents on a weekly basis. I can take some credit for inviting them to Hong Kong two years ago, their first time in the city, but the rest of the credit lies entirely with them and the interesting initiative to commission ‘encore’ works inspired by their ever-changing repertoire. In my case, I chose an especially unusual piece, the Szymanowski Second String Quartet and created what might be called a reconnection of the entire thing: the same materials, even the same melody, but simultaneously different, maybe even unrecognisable. But paired on the same concert, with the brilliant musicianship of this ensemble, it might just connect in some unexpected ways.
Next week, I was meant to be already on the way to the UK for a residency on the large-scale project with Manchester International Festival, but this is temporarily, or perhaps indefinitely, now postponed, no fault due to the festival whatsoever. It is commonly accepted practice in the music world not to bite the hand that feeds you, and perhaps not even the hand that doesn’t- in this case, we’ll just have to see how it goes.
