Part 2
Many writers have claimed that as soon as they enter into the process, certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands. Do you like to keep strict control or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?
On one hand I try to step out of the way and let the music unfold as naturally as possible. At times I have the feeling I need to control and in some sense coerce the music to move in a certain direction but such actions rarely make it into the final version of a composition. More often, control or action are only helpful means to get unstuck.
It is a bit different when there might be certain technical aspects to the compositions that sometimes need control in order to be reproducible. Be it a playing technique or some special effect.
There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?
Being in touch with the essence of me. Neither wanting to achieve anything nor trying to prove something to the world or to myself, merely aspiring to be as directly human as I possibly can and sharing that state in the most honest way possible.
I do feel there are spiritual elements in everything we do - as long as it comes from a space of open mindfulness, be it cooking or creating a piece of music.
Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you personally allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practise?
Evaluation, improvement and refinement are for me integral parts of the compositional process. I take my time until I bring out a composition to an audience or present it to the world.
The most important factor for me, before I call it a finished piece, is that I feel it has something to say that resonates with my view of whatever is happening in my world. I also need to have reached a state where I am able to perform it with confidence.
However, except for some very strong compositions that have lived through many different generations of concert-situations, a piece is very seldom finished (in the sense of unchangeable) for me.
As I mentioned earlier, every performance or recording offers many alternative parameters that will ultimately affect the way I play or what I think the music needs in order to make sense for me at that moment. A listener will recognise the composed parts of the repertoire (I think) but there will be detours, alternative endings or beginnings and harmonic or rhythmical changes appearing in each performance.
Whenever I feel that a composition does not evolve or becomes too strict, I tend to take them out of the repertoire.
How do you think the meaning, or effect of an individual piece is enhanced, clarified or possibly contrasted by the EPs, or albums it is part of? Does each piece, for example, need to be consistent with the larger whole?
Working with Manfred Eicher and ECM has a huge impact on the contextualisation of each composition and the dramaturgy of the whole album.
The same pieces can tell a very different story depending on the sequencing of an album. For me - having grown up in a time when we were still listening to full albums - this is a very important aspect of the experience of music.
I didn’t compose the pieces while having a certain album in mind, but they are all parts of me and my development over the years since the last release which already makes for a certain consistency. The album however tells a bigger story than the pieces by themselves would ever be able to do.
What's your take on the role and importance of production, including mixing and mastering for you personally? In terms of what they contribute to a song, what is the balance between the composition and the arrangement (performance)?
As creative artists, we always have a responsibility towards the audience to present the best, most honest art that we can in the best way possible. For me every part - from composition via performance to production and artwork - has to be taken very seriously.
There is no such thing as “one fits all” - meaning that a great album needs expensive studios or Grammy award winning engineers - but there has to be an ambition and a coherent approach behind what we are putting out. A bedroom recording can be the exact right thing for one piece whereas the next one needs a church and a full recording-crew - we need to be responsible about this and find the best way for each particular situation.
A good song can convey its message even in a poor performance or still shine through a bad sounding production, whereas a great production can never really put any real value into a poor composition.
Music and the accompanying artwork are often closely related. Can you talk about this a little bit for your current project and the relationship that images and sounds have for you in general?
Again, having the pleasure of working with Manfred Eicher and ECM, the artwork is always an inspiring addition to the album. Images and sounds are related in so many ways and many times I find myself relating to certain pictures as strongly as I do to music.
In the best of situations - which I think Manfred is a master of - the artwork gives a hint and opens a door to imagination without giving any directions where the imagination should flow.
After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?
Maybe not so much an emptiness but a radical change of pace that can be quite difficult to handle at times. Leading up to a release or the completion of a large body of work, there are so many steps that all demand full attention and very often make me work strange hours for extended periods of time.
I also find the change of focus — from very intimate, concentrated on every detail and every aspect of the work, to fully public, at the mercy of critics, “the market” etc. — quite challenging at times. Afterwards I can feel like in a state of jet-lag before I am able to re-integrate into more normal behaviour. Luckily I am surrounded by wonderful, understanding and very supportive human beings.
The simple act of playing my instrument is what brings me back to a centred state of mind and to creation.
I would love to know a little about the feedback you've received from listeners or critics about what they thought some of your songs are about or the impact it had on them – have there been “misunderstandings” or did you perhaps even gain new “insights?”
That’s what I think is the magic of music and what never seize to amaze me: every listener can have a very own interpretation, and they are all valid. I have been blessed with many deeply touching conversations with listeners and also some critics.
What makes me especially happy to hear is that most listeners, both after live-performances and after hearing my first album, share their emotional reactions on the music without paying attention to, or even noticing!, what instrument it is played on.
As a listener myself, the most profound experiences come when I just let the music be without analysing.
Obviously some reactions are easier for me to incorporate in my own understanding of the music than others, but I have definitely gained many inspiring facets to my music by listening to the reactions from open hearted listeners.
Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you personally feel as though writing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?
There is no inherent difference in the task itself when it is based in thoughtfulness and I can carry it out with a concentrated ambition to do the best I can. Of course there are many tasks that I carry out with a less inspired mindset - that is definitely another story.
However, music has the unique ability to reach listeners in many magical ways that other tasks can’t. I hope that I am able to share more of who I am, give a deeper insight into my world and evoke more profound and diverse experiences through the music I play than I would be able to offering even the best cup of coffee.
