Name: Hannah Macklin
Occupation: Vocalist, multi-instrumentalist, composer and music educator
Nationality: Australian
Current release:  Hannah Macklin's debut album Mu is out now via Hopestreet.
Recommendations: Book: Wabi Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets and Philosophers; Painting: Angels and Devils, by M.C. Escher

If you enjoyed this Hannah Macklin interview and would like to discover more about her and her music, visit her on Instagram, and Soundcloud.



When I listen to music, I see shapes, objects and colours. What happens in your body when you're listening? Do you listen with your eyes open or closed?

My experience of listening to music shifts with my mood, the nature of the music I’m hearing and the way in which I choose to engage with it.

Sometimes I’ll close my eyes and choose to feel immersed, like a baby in the womb, floating in its liquid embrace. During these experiences I feel an impressionistic visual response to music, almost as though the sounds I hear are painting scenes of which I am also a part.

Other times, I might choose to feel energised and use my body to react to or decipher the music I hear; either through dance or by tapping, clapping, clicking and singing the various aspects of the piece.
 
What were your very first steps in music like - and how do you rate gains made through experience versus the naiveté of those first steps?

I can recall singing from a very young age; basically, singing and speaking went hand in hand and I began learning piano at the age of 4.

I wouldn’t know how to rate one aspect of my musical growth over another and I don’t think it’s really necessary … it’s all part of the big tapestry of discovery.
 
According to scientific studies, we make our deepest and most incisive musical experiences between the ages of 13-16. What did music mean to you at that age and what’s changed since then?

Oh wow, that’s interesting, I didn’t know that. Makes sense though … At 13 I began taking private singing lessons (I had asked for them earlier but my mother wanted to wait until my voice had matured a little); my teacher was an established Opera singer and so my lessons had a classical lilt. This was hugely beneficial for opening my tone and adding some dexterity.

I was also really getting into songwriting at this time. I’d get to school an hour early to write in the music block. I was singing in three choirs and a vocal quartet and my best friends were all singers or musicians; we’d write songs or learn pieces on weekends (I remember spending one Sunday arvo learning “Across the Night” by Silverchair as a vocal piano duet with my mate Laura).



I was also training at a theatre school one afternoon a week. Looking back, I was a massive singing and music nerd, hehe.

Since then I have relaxed my intense music focus (a little … haha) and learnt to enjoy other things. Music is pretty deeply alive within me and I thank my family for encouraging it from such an early age.
 
Over the course of your development, what have been your most important instruments and tools and how have they shaped your perspective on music?

As I mentioned, I took piano lessons, but funnily enough I never had a piano growing up (and stills don’t), we had an old Clavichord organ which I’d practice on and my grandparents had a pianola (my favourite tune to play on it was “Hallelujah, I’m A Bum!”, hahaha).



Discovering GarageBand, synthesisers and drum pads in my early twenties was hugely developmental for writing beats, layering and demoing; these really expanded my idea of music-making as a practice.

Mu was written on a Yamaha CNR-80 organ, which I bought for $30. But I’d have to say the most important instrument / tool I have is my voice. It’s linked directly to my consciousness, which is where my ideas are held. I am now in the practice of vocalising my inner world daily. Bringing ideas from the outside into my soma (mind, body and soul) and translating them into song.

I also have a Washburn acoustic bass, which I am in no way, shape or form a master of, but which inspires me to write riffs. My theoretical knowledge of music is definitely held within the piano but I love experimenting on instruments I have less of an understanding of, bridging the gap between the known and the unknown.
 
What, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to music and what motivates you to create?

I like to take a holistic approach to music. It’s everywhere, it’s in everything. It’s for everyone. I enjoy expanding my knowledge in all directions ...

Sometimes this means practicing something challenging, sometimes it means simply listening and appreciating, sometimes it’s teaching others … I enjoy this cyclical feeling of keeping the flow of energy around what I know and how I communicate it. In this way, I try to remain very open, allowing motivation to come from anywhere.

I draw on my emotions and experiences; the vastness of existence; cultural idioms; historical events; natural phenomena; colours, animals, yoga, dance, philosophy. Sometimes a certain sound or timbre piques my interest enough to shape a whole song. Most often I am inspired to create things that I hope will enrich others’ as much as my own.

Paul Simon said “the way that I listen to my own records is not for the chords or the lyrics - my first impression is of the overall sound.” What's your own take on that and how would you define your personal sound?

It’s a wonderful thing that happens when a piece is finished, when all the carefully chosen and crafted layers meld together to create an overall sound that is often undefinable at first listen. I love that magic. It’s sonic alchemy.

My personal sound varies with what I’m writing but in the case of Mu, the sound is very fresh. I have combined classic songwriting techniques combined with more experimental song forms, textures and scales in the hope of creating something both timeless and forward-thinking.

Lyrically it’s at times dense and heartfelt and at others, whimsical and light. I aim to harness the all … and the all is both everything and nothing.
 
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 have transcribed bird songs, made samples from the sound of fire being struck, used chance nature sounds in recordings, etc. Once for a gig out in the country I sat in a tree and sung the sound of the tree. I sing to the moon, I sing the songs of the stars. There’s a line in my song “Stars” (from Mu) which signifies the shifting of earth’s tectonic plates.



I’d love to write the song of a volcano. When my mind is very quiet I can best hear the hum of the universe.
 
From very deep/high/loud/quiet sounds to very long/short/simple/complex compositions - are there extremes in music you feel drawn to and what response do they elicit?

All the extremes and everything in between!

Songs written over drones with repetitive chanted phrases have as much of a place in my world as through-composed epic ballads, short feisty punk tunes, cute electronic jams, etc etc.

I love finding the extremes of my voice in terms of pitch, tonality, duration of notes, speed of sound, tongue dexterity and more.

From symphonies and traditional verse/chorus-songs to linear techno tracks and free jazz, there are myriads ways to structure a piece of music. Which approaches work best for you – and why?

I like to take a multitude of approaches, mixing up the songwriting process. If a melody comes into my head I will capture it and then figure out how to supplement it.

If I come up with a chord progression I might record it or write it down as a foundation from which a song can grow. Perhaps it’s a beat that gets things going … or maybe it’s an idea borne from jamming with other musicians. Maybe it’s the words that come first and then I am melodising poetry. Truly the approach that works best for me is to constantly remind myself that there is no correct formula for anything. Creativity happens when you allow your mind to wander freely.

This said, there needs to be some discipline around structuring those freely-formed ideas and this balance is in itself, an art.
 
Could you describe your creative process on the basis of one of your pieces, live performances or albums that's particularly dear to you, please?

Sure! The creative process of the first song from the album, “Mono No Aware”, was as follows: I wrote the chords first, on my Yamaha organ. I spent a lot of time engaging with the harmony and making sure it moved, held tension and resolved in interesting and unexpected ways. I structured the entire song’s harmonic movement first, creating a bed, which I recorded into Ableton so that I could then work on top of it. The melody and lyrics came next.



I often write lyrics and melody together although I guess if we’re being specific, the lyrics are juuuust first. I aim to give life to the words, to place them delicately along my stream of breath and usually there is a visual shape I am seeing in my mind’s eye that informs this.

The lyrics from the piece sprung from a Japanese phrase I’d recently learned and had been sitting with, Mono No Aware, which translates to the impermanence of all things, the transient nature of existence (This is linked to the album title, Mu, meaning nothingness). With this phrase as the intended subject matter for the song I wrote a semi-apocalyptic piece about a final embrace with a loved one before the ground cracks between you and you are forever separated.

The hook line of the song is “It’s never gonna be exactly like that again, it’s never gonna be exactly just like that again.” The inclusion of the word “just” the second time through the phrase adds time to the phrase so that is resolves later against the harmonic movement; I love this kind of thing. Time is so fun to stretch.

After recording the melody and lyrics I sat with the song for quite a while (I can’t remember how long; maybe a couple of weeks?) before writing the corresponding string arrangement. This part for me is like adding flicks of colour, highlighting bits of the song I deem to be important or meaningful and drawing them out further, such as the held sus chord the strings play after the line “the last of the fading sunlight”. The lyric suggests a visual and the strings paint it across the sky.

The recording you hear on the album came together in the studio, where a lot of further input was made by Nick Herrera (Mu’s producer) and Myka Wallace (drums / percussion). Working with these two was an absolute dream. Their suggestions and additions were super sensitive, subtle and elegant.

The backing vocal parts came together with two beautiful singers Abbey Howlett and Emma Ovenden, who helped me perform it live on many occasions, pre-studio; and the recorded backing vocals were sung by my dear friend Kiki Shoe.

Sometimes, science and art converge in unexpected ways. Do you conduct “experiments” or make use of scientific insights when you're making music?

For sure! Both making and teaching music are hugely experimental processes for me. Music is time travel and time is a scientific concept.
 
How does the way you make music reflect the way you live your life? Can we learn lessons about life by understanding music on a deeper level?

It’s all entwined for me and yes, definitely.
 
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?

Of course it is.

You can treat everything as art and this will greatly enrich your life; but there are other worlds and realms to be traversed which should be done with care and this is where the possibility for music to become a spiritual practice opens up. Especially when treading dark, controversial or cultural territory.
 
Every time I listen to "Albedo 0.39" by Vangelis, I choke up. But the lyrics are made up of nothing but numbers and values. Do you, too, have a song or piece of music that affects you in a way that you can't explain?

Fever Ray’s “When I Grow Up” hits me in the most mysterious place; it feels like a memory, like somewhere I went as a child that felt super magical.
 


If you could make a wish for the future – what are developments in music you would like to see and hear?

Developments are already taking place in a big way within us all as we work to rebuild systems and reshape our thinking post-Covid. Music will naturally respond to this movement.