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6 March 2024
Hong Kong, HKSAR
The light outside appeared as if through a sepia filter, and a heavy mist, the kind that would stick to one’s lips, traveled horizontally along the sidewalks and hugged each creaking, cracking building in Sham Shui Po. Two mornings in a row, we had 100% humidity. And earlier this week, I finished a string quartet that, itself, finished on a B Major chord. Whither happiness, or contentment, or at the very least- finality? B Major is, after all, such a bright key. It makes D look dour in comparison, and C- horribly banal. But the piece is done, and it will soon be printed, too, once its billion notes, too many in the treble clef, even in the cello part, find space on the digital page. And this spring, it will even receive its world premiere with the superb Quatuor Arod.
These sticky, stagnant mornings actually have felt strangely fresh, sandwiched in between cool, windy days and nights. Or this image of Angkor Wat at dawn, or barely a bit later (since I couldn’t bother to wake up in perfect time, and insisted on breakfast at a civilised pace). In between giant projects, interdisciplinary genre-busting things, groundbreaking this and revolutionary that, until one gets tired of the marketing-speak, it’s just nice to write chamber music once in a while. It’s even nicer to do it for true friends.
Then we come back to the groundbreaking and revolutionary anyway; the wind insists on blowing through the mist, no matter how curious it is. We are in the final stage of editing, post-production, and CGI on the digital work for Hong Kong Ballet that, together with Giorgio Biancorosso, choreographer Yuh Egami, dancer Shen Jie, and the incredible artistry of Anandi Bhattacharya and Joby Burgess, we recorded in November. But the digital aspect is a work of creative production on its own. It is also sort of impossible to imagine precisely how it might go. Like any decent work of art, though, the unpredictability, the non-commodification, is why to do it in the first place. It may end in its own, proverbial, B Major. In a few weeks’ time, the world will see it.
20 February 2024
Hong Kong, HKSAR
Around this time, or just a little bit after, four years ago, I would be sitting at the far end of my Hong Kong apartment; the intense rays of the early spring sun soaked the ersatz wooden table and lit up the white cloth notepad into which the first measures of Russia: Today (2020) were written. There wasn’t much to do outside as Hong Kong struggled with the ‘first wave’ of the pandemic, with locals hopelessly cowering in fear and stocking up on toilet paper, but to write music, and within a month and a half, that entire hour-long composition, now having graced the New York Times and beyond, was completed. I’m thinking of those somewhat-lonely, surreal days as I set out on the new string quartet, a piece far shorter, but with seemingly just as many notes. Same place, same sun, same white cloth notepad. Just that the world outside has (mercifully) moved on and so have I. Perhaps the music has, too.
The above photo comes from Mianshan, a group of Taoist monasteries and other religious structures deep in Shanxi province- even on the absurdly busy Chinese New Year holidays, it was somehow empty in the morning, like a postcard, or even better- like a dream. The dry mountains covered in specks of snow, the deepening silence of each successive layer of the temple structures, the reprieve from modern society which has invaded even the most ancient places, seemed like a mirage. There is an interesting parallel, a paradoxical unity, with the act of composition. I attempt to find an utter silence to ‘receive’ a new creation, which is truly born out of what is both a vacuum and an impossibly messy inner self, and yet around me, and the world into which this new work is born, is a cacophony and a crisis, too. So this is also how I explain to myself why increasingly, tonality makes so much sense: tonality at the cost of complexity and cacophony, or maybe is it vice versa? One can tolerate the other as long as there is a reprieve, a Mianshan.
The new piece, it doesn’t have the absolute tragedy of Vivacissimo (2023), an emotional cry that I didn’t even realise I had written until I heard it premiered this past December. It has something else, though. I’m barely a minute and a half into the music, so I can’t really tell you yet how it goes, but it is an anxiety, a tension, maybe it gives up or it holds on. When I wrote my first String Quartet (2013) over a decade ago, it ended in a sort of a holy postlude. This one would be lucky to find its resolution at the last breath.
5 February 2024
Hong Kong, HKSAR
January somehow whizzed by already but last year’s final brilliant memory – the world premiere of Vivacissimo (2023) by LiLa with the Hong Kong Dance Company – has finally returned with a recording that I’m excited to soon share, once the video also becomes ready. For the next few weeks though, as the cool, somewhat grim weather settles over Hong Kong, I’ll be working on the new, rather concise, piece for Quatuor Arod which will already be premiered later this year. Reminded of the first weeks of the pandemic in 2020 during which I frequently went out to a local coffee shop to work on the sketches and the score of Russia: Today (2020) in contravention of the prevailing hysteria, I think it will be a beautiful thing to add one more double bar to the many works I completed in my Sham Shui Po apartment before I finally hand it back and move further afield in the SAR.
Also earlier this month, I found myself defending this place that I call home to a group of surly German academics who had duly imbibed the Western media propaganda that all things-China are bad and Western Europe (and its allies) are blameless. The reality is of course complicated and quite gray, and despite the fact that much of what goes on here is frustratingly provincial and occasionally even preposterous (HKCCO inviting the queen of banality, Alma Deutscher, for a disastrously-selling concert being this month’s cherry), Hong Kong is also a leader in arts funding and a place with a completely open and honest mind about what culture should and might be. The drastic and endless arts cuts that made it clear that I had no future in the United Kingdom attempting even the slightest ambitious project, or the unearned snobbery of much of the Western European music scene, these are of course also by no means representative of the countless incredible artists and organisations at the very cutting edge of art and culture. But that call was anyway a nice reminder that living here, results, not talk, matter.
Some other good news- the world premiere of Otherhood (2022) which I wrote across continents, but mostly during an incredibly inspiring time in India in the spring of 2022, will finally take place at the Musiikkitalo in Helsinki in autumn of this year. A number of large projects are anyway moving forward, as well as existing ones returning to the stage, especially in 2025-26. But if anything, I’m excited to have the chance to hear some new, smaller-scale projects be heard and shared this year across Europe and mainland China.
22 January 2024
Hong Kong, HKSAR
The University of Oxford screening and discussion of Russia: Today (2020) came and went, and the last couple weeks back in Hong Kong have been already full of life and promise. And aside from (or, perhaps, because of?) the record low temperatures due tomorrow, I have rarely been as excited to be back as I am now. Vivacissimo (2023) will be released online later this winter, and the new ‘demo’ work for Hong Kong Ballet will also finally see the light of day in the spring. Meanwhile, I am excited to start writing a new piece for string quartet, pure and simple, for the Paris-based Quatuor Arod, to be premiered at the Eslite Chamber Music Festival in Taipei, Taiwan before going on tour with this wonderful group over the summer. Something different for me, to be sure.
There’s progress on future performances for The Once and Future (2021) on the horizon in Europe in 2025, and with a reinvigorated staging and, especially, a new, truly tech-forward costume. All this is surely thanks to the continuing and robust support for culture and research in Hong Kong which continues to keep me (mostly happily) here, and quite busy.
After so much of last year spent planning and producing work, I really hope for 2024 to allow me to focus on what, and who, matters to me most. Loved ones, family, music, making the most out of every day. A recent conversation with some European counterparts on courage in the arts was unintentionally indicative of how great a gulf there is between the everyday reality and so much of artistic creation, and not in a good way. This commitment to being grounded and being involved, being true, will, I hope, fill the coming days, weeks, and months, and lead to new compositions that are not only deserving of their own creation, but equally so of the world’s attention.
8 January 2024
Helsinki, Finland
It has not been an easy turn of the year by any means- another circumnavigation of the globe, three performances including the world premiere of Vivacissimo (2023) in Hong Kong by the absolutely brilliant LiLa and Hong Kong Dance Company, and now, the first steps together on Otherhood (2022), the commission by the Finnish Cultural Foundation for vocalists Martti Anttila, Iris Oja, and pianist Anna Kuvaja, for which we recorded some materials with the multi-talented Taavi Oramo. Tonight- the flight back to Hong Kong and finally some stasis and peace. 2024 will require a lot of it.
But still a word about Vivacissimo. I wrote in my last post, just before year’s end (in fact, I had two- one at Haneda Airport departing for home, and another from the West Coast, yet again) and lamented my sort-of-estrangement from the creative process that past year. For that I have mostly myself to blame, though not entirely. Yet, experiencing the brilliant choreography of Ong Tze Shen, the passionate virtuosity of LiLa, and Hing Chao‘s inspired direction of the entire project was a powerful shot in the arm. I had many doubts with this piece- too conservative? after all it’s all in E minor. too simple? too obvious? too bare? with just cello. But it wasn’t any of those things. It was a tour de force performance from all involved, and a completely novel approach to martial arts and dance, pairing it with music that was decidedly not Eastern, and yet- anything but a clash.
Just when I begin to question the entire thing, a performance and a project like that returns all the faith. The afternoon spent with Iris, Martti, Anna, and Taavi likewise was a return to the sort of familiarity and collegial music-making I miss so much living in Hong Kong where the local forces are decidedly uninterested in collaborating with me. But projects – and life – move forward and all the usual paradigms are somehow challenged anyway, whether they expect it or not. 2024 is a year without expectations and few plans. I like it.
25 December 2023
Oakland, CA, USA
I wish I could say there’s one more trip left for the year. If only! Tonight I’m making the exceedingly long trip back to Hong Kong for the three performances / world premiere of Vivacissimo (2023) with LiLa and the Hong Kong Dance Company as part of Hidden / Manifest. It’s one of just one and a half compositions I’ve written this year, one of my least productive in as long as I can remember, at least creatively. I feel compelled to change that. Producing The Once and Future (2021), and so many other administrative projects and efforts, has cost me tremendously in time and free thought. And while one must not run away from responsibilities, I am more or less convinced that I must find my way back to a more creative path- my recent time in Manchester developing the new large-scale work with Kingsley Ng, Stephanie Cheung, and violinist Bomsori Kim, felt like a return to form, but in general, the year has been a serious (and worrying) departure from my path.
End of year revelations, resolutions, and so on tend to be little more than wishful thinking but I am determined to do many things differently in 2024. The year starts with recording sessions for Otherhood (2023) in Helsinki, Finland, and moves on to the screening of Russia: Today (2020) at the University of Oxford. But I mean more than simply career stuff. The music world is one of exceptional loyalty, long-lasting friendships, and utter charlatans. Occasionally people surprise you. I have tried very hard to be on the good side of the equation, occasionally to my own detriment, but at least, the project and the people involved get what is promised to them. It has all given me a very profound insight into what it means to create a work rather than just write one- and to my colleagues whose life depends on the occasional give-away from the local composers’ union, rostrum, or whatever else, I wonder if they’ll ever be in for the rude surprise.
I remember my first flight to Hong Kong when I moved there. The entire thing was a completely different reality from now. I had taken enough things to last me through the autumn, booked a hotel for a month, and got a business class upgrade; it was an auspicious arrival, one could say. More than six years on, on a chilly Christmas night, I can’t say I am traveling with the same sense of wonder, anticipation, or even excitement. Older, hopefully wiser, more myself and also less myself, the end of the year is a chance to look forward to the changes brought by a new one. The clock will invariably turn, and we should all thank the lucky stars for what we have.
15 December 2023
Sofia, Bulgaria
The year is winding to a much-anticipated conclusion, and maybe it couldn’t come sooner! There’s still the world premiere of Vivacissimo (2023) with LiLa and the Hong Kong Dance Company that has finally been publicised! But beyond that, I’ll be in London and Manchester over the weekend and into early next week to take some few steps forward for the collaboration project with MIF and Asia+, the heir of New Vision Arts Festival, and also back home in the United States for the days leading up to Christmas. It will be a lot of time spent in airports, but I feel that long journeys are a wonderful (and important) opportunity to reflect, plan, and search- I remember, of course, the very beginning of 2022, finishing Os dias mais longos e os mais curtos (2022) on the tarmac in London Heathrow on my way to Luxembourg for the world premiere of En vertu de… (2021) and so on. This time, there’s no music in the works presently, but a lot to look forward to in the coming year.
It is perhaps a little bit premature to reflect on this year which has felt especially intense and heavy, from the UK premiere of Russia: Today (2020) at Kings Place which received a ton of press attention from the likes of New York Times (not to mention some hacks), to finally bringing The Once and Future (2021) to Hong Kong with Anandi Bhattacharya and the Berliner Philharmoniker musicians. And together with Giorgio Biancorosso, we finally set out on our HK Ballet project, completing filming just two weeks ago with our incredible dancer and choreographer, Shen Jie and Yuh Egami, respectively. The soundtrack for it, beautifully recorded (and composed) by Anandi Bhattacharya with a lovely accompaniment by Joby Burgess, is ready too. Things are finally moving after interminable preparation and efforts.
If I’m really honest, I am beyond ready for 2024. The year will fill up and I am looking forward to important changes in life. 2023 has come but not yet gone- but it has brought a tremendous amount of lessons, experiences, and wisdom. The remaining weeks, spent in the air, and in staging the final performance of the year, will hopefully contain love, wisdom, and celebration in equal measure.
24 November 2023
Hong Kong, HKSAR
The intervening weeks between the Hong Kong premiere of The Once and Future (2021) and the upcoming world premiere of Vivacissimo (2023) have been anything but empty- I had the great privilege of working with Joby Burgess and Anandi Bhattacharya on a new work for Hong Kong Ballet for which the music was fully recorded last week and the choreography will be filmed next week, and this has provided plenty of inspiration to last me through the stubbornly warm days here in Hong Kong. But there has been more to keep one excited, too: new and unprecedented interest in The Once and Future from both European and Asian promoters which should mean the work truly has legs in the coming seasons, and some promising progress for the new project for Manchester International Festival‘s 2025 edition. It means that this difficult and unexpected year won’t be defined only as such.
And then there’s 2024- the University of Oxford, one of my three ‘almae matres’ and the only one that hasn’t turned into a shell of itself yet, will host a screening and panel discussion of the Russia: Today (2020) project with EXAUDI. And I’ll be back in the UK in May 2025 for a two-week residency at MIF to properly develop the collaborative project with Kingsley Ng and Stephanie Cheung which, aside from working with South Korean violin virtuoso Bomsori Kim, might veer into the completely (for me) unknown genre of trance-techno.
Looking into the future from the present, particularly considering the sound of the new Hong Kong Ballet digital work, I find myself at a creative crossroads among many other crossroads, career-wise and in life in general. Some years ago, and rather consistently, I would worry about what success might mean for my urge to create and whether there would be any fire left; as some close collaborators of mine keep reminding me, I only planned to come to Hong Kong for a short time and hardly imagined I’d spend days after days in production and project management, paying salaries to musicians and signing management deals for my own work. I still feel uneasy and deliberately impermanent about such tasks and especially rebellious about becoming anything else before a composer, and not out of some sort of artistic pride or disrespect of the incredible effort it takes to make great things happen in music. In fact, it’s superhuman, just that compromising time on creating new work causes me to feel unworthy of the vision and ambition I do have on a purely creative level. And there, I don’t compromise. Or, rather, from 2024 onwards, I won’t.
