Part 2

Are you acting out parts of your personality in your music that you couldn't or wouldn't in your daily life? If so, which are these?

I’m not sure if I act out a part of my personality that I don’t show in daily life. I don’t write from an alter-ego perspective.

Especially with this record, I’ve built songs around the things I was dealing with and tried to map them out through music.

Late producer SOPHIE said: “You have the possibility [...] to generate any texture, and any sound. So why would any musician want to limit themselves?” What's your take on that?

I’m familiar with that quote, and SOPHIE is absolutely right. In the context of her work, it makes perfect sense, and I love her music.

I think I function differently, though. I love using all the tools available, and I agree that musicians shouldn’t limit themselves to a particular style, genre, texture, or instrument. But I do like the idea of working with minimal tools to create something beautiful and deciding, “This is enough.” That might not be SOPHIE’s point here.

I like having limitations because it helps me focus. Otherwise, I’d get overwhelmed by all the possibilities.

Do you feel that your music or your work as an artist needs to have a societal purpose or a responsibility to anyone but yourself?

That’s a tricky question. I think any art created in a specific time and environment will automatically reflect parts of that context. Not all art from a period is the same, but the influence of technology, political landscape, and personal experiences are connected to that specific time, which gives it a societal purpose.

Art is a record of the emotions, zeitgeist, and reflections of what was happening when it was created. Even if not directly or consciously, I think art has a societal purpose because it documents and reflects that specific time, place, and society.

There’s an inherent responsibility in creating art because it makes, reflects, challenges, and deconstructs the ideas and emotions of a particular time. Art can disrupt daily life and prompt questions, which is an essential and powerful thing. But there’s no rulebook for what art should be or do. If an artist feels they have no responsibility to society, that’s their prerogative.

For me, I think the responsibility lies in trying to be as honest and true as possible in my artistic practice. When I present something I’m proud of, I hope it resonates with others.

Once a piece is done and released, do you find it important that listeners understand it in a specific way? How do you deal with “misunderstandings?”  

Not at all. For me, it’s important that the listener can interpret the music within their own frame and context.

I don’t think you can misunderstand it, as it is your personal experience. I’m curious about what people understand and take away from it.

Sound, song, and rhythm are all around us, from animal noises to the waves of the ocean. What, if any, are some of the most moving experiences you've had with these non-human-made sounds? In how far would you describe them as “musical”?

I think nature has a big influence on us as humans and on how we make and produce sound, and therefore music. So yes, I do see it as music, but as humans, we imitate and re-organize it.

As a kid, I had this game where I was the conductor of the sea; I would stand in front of the shore and conduct the waves like an orchestra, telling them to be louder and bigger, or smaller and softer. It was one of my favorite games to play. I think we need nature sounds and nature in general as humans to level with the world and understand that we are part of it. As a musician, there is so much sound around us in nature to work with.

Recently, I went on a soundwalk with my friend Zubin, who was teaching me how to capture reverb outside and in different outdoor spaces. We spent the entire day recording found sounds with different gear and headphones. It was so beautiful to isolate certain sounds, so close to your ear that you could almost smell and taste them. We created a soundbank to work with later in the studio. It was amazing to experience the forest so closely through our ears.

Another experience I recently had was listening to the aggressive and loud noise of an MRI scan. I tried to listen to it as a performance of noise music, even though it sounds so mechanical and emotionless. I think that is where the difference lies—the emotionality and purpose of the sound.

Natural sounds can hold a lot of emotion even though they are not purposefully “played,” but they are still very musical.

We can surround ourselves with sound every second of the day. The great pianist Glenn Gould even considered this the ultimate delight. How do you see that yourself, and what importance does silence hold?

To me, silence is very important. I cannot live without it. But it’s also questionable whether we indeed experience complete silence. There is always a hum or a sound in the background, especially if you live in a city like NYC. There is sound everywhere all the time. When I first moved to Brooklyn, I noticed that certain sounds were draining my energy, so I started wearing earplugs on the train, which helps me a lot to zone out.

Sound and music, like I said before, almost demand my attention and energy, even if I don’t have the headspace or room to give my attention to them. It distracts me. So I love working in silence or even eating in silence with my partner, to give attention to him and the food.

Recently, I composed music for a dance piece by Stacy M. Spence, which premiered at Danspace NYC last spring. There were big moments of silence, where the audience could hear the dancers breathe and move without us as musicians playing with them. It became an integral part of the composition because it makes the dancers and their emotions feel so close to the viewer.

Silence creates space—to be in and to reflect in—and I think I need that space to fully function. It’s important to listen to silence and experience it as something that is not scary or “not-alive,” because there is sound all around you all day.

Do you feel as though writing or performing 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?
 
I think there could be parts of an art practice that are more mundane to get yourself prepared to do the work. But generating material and creating something requires a lot of mental labor that a mundane task may not require.

In the end, it’s about expressing something on a deeply emotional level—or at least in my work. It’s connected to how it resonates with you on a personal level.

For example, you could completely perform a show on autopilot without necessarily feeling emotionally connected to it, but I don’t like that. Especially with performance, there is this moment in time that you are sharing with your audience, and an energy is created between you and them. I think that is something very special and can reach different emotional depths than doing a mundane task.