Part 2

What role do electronic tools and instruments play for your creative process? What does your creative space / studio look like and what tools does it contain?

They do play a fairly reasonable role. Everything in my studio evolves around the piano first though.

As much as these electronic tools play a big part in my everyday creative process, so does atmosphere and order. I love everything to be in its place. Lamps lit, rugs everywhere, essential oil burning. I’m quite funny like that. An orderly warm setting plays a huge role in my creative work space, otherwise my mind isn’t very grounded and I find I can’t concentrate.

As far as instruments and electronic tools go I have a very basic set up working with the industry standard Protools with a MIDI keyboard in a pullout draw at arms reach from my piano that I will utilise during the composing process. Surrounding that are a couple of synths, an analogue organ and keyboards that I tend to potter around with.

I find I’m more naturally focused composing with the piano. Gear talk really doesn’t excite me at all, however I like what gear can creatively bring about. So most of the time the sounds I will create with them are happy accidents and I will work from there..
 
It is my impression that adding a conceptual, non-musical dimension to one's work is almost a prerequisite for commissions and grants. How do you view this tendency and how “conceptual” is your own approach to writing?

I believe there's a certain pressure on composers today to attach a conceptual dimension to their work, particularly for commissions and grants. While this can initially feel restrictive, I see it as a valuable opportunity.

Providing deeper meaning or a story behind the music to the outside helps gain insight into the artist, for composers to clarify their artistic intentions. The origin of the concept, whether it comes before or after the music doesn’t matter to me, it’s more about the connection it forges with the audience.

My own approach has evolved over time. Concepts were never really a central part to my creative process, however over time I’ve seen value in giving my music poetic or narrative dimension. The concept isn't always the central driver of my creative process.

More often, I start with a blank canvas, tapping into more of that ‘flow’ state and see what emerges musically. A story or concept will naturally reveal itself as I listen back and build on the pieces.




For example, the piece "A Sense of Place" on my album become the sky was the first I composed for the album. It wasn't written with a concept in mind, but its emotional core ended up unearthing the story that became the central theme for the entire album.

While that's my typical process, I do enjoy the challenge of working conceptually as well, as I did on my last album, A World Outside, where I went in with a very strong conceptual intention from the start.



Working with long forms, complex concepts or new vocabulary is potentially more challenging today because they require us to remember things that happened perhaps minutes ago – while most of us are finding it hard to focus even on what's happening right now. Both as a composer and as a listener yourself, how do you deal with this?

It's true that people's attention spans are diminishing. However, I don't believe our emotional capacity is. If anything, humans are in more need of slowing down and being mindfully present.

As a composer, the balance for me lies in strategically crafting short, yet meaningful moments that can cut through the noise and grab a listener's attention, compelling them to lean in and explore the longer work. While it can be frustrating for artists to feel like content creators because of this attention decline, I'm grateful that my genre of music tends to attract very deep and dedicated listeners who want to ponder over things.

As a listener myself, I'm a culprit of this fast-paced world too, and I deal with the pressure by going off-grid as often as possible. Thankfully, Australia has endless space with no Wi-Fi or reception, which is a great way to force myself to slow down, clear the clutter, and embrace the silence. It's in those moments that I find the most clarity and creative inspiration.

How, would you say are live performances of your music and your recording projects connected at the moment? How do they mutually influence and feed off each other?

Recording is a very insular and focused process for me. In a recording environment you have the freedom to be highly precise, to layer textures, and to build a world that is completely self-contained within the recording itself so there's a certain kind of concentration and introspection.

Live performance, in contrast, is all about mutual energy and connection. My goal is to create an experience that feels like a shared emotional conversation with the audience. I often banter between pieces too. It's about forging a real, tangible bond. I also believe a live show should offer something unique that you can't get from the album.

For example, with my album become the sky, I intentionally vary the pieces and sometimes add new instrumental elements. I’ve also brought in two band members to give the music a different kind of life on stage. I really feel both offer differing connected elements for both myself and the listener.

To some, the advent of AI and 'intelligent' composing tools offers potential for machines to contribute to the creative process. What are your hopes, fears, expectations and possible concrete plans in this regard?

I'm open to using technology to assist with the composing process, but only as long as it doesn't interfere with the "beating heart" of a human soul. For me, the core of the issue comes down to the human element. Nothing compares to the emotional movement and expression that only a person can create and capture.

My greatest hope is that AI will never be able to truly compete with the human soul. I do fear the potential for the erosion of that uniqueness, but I also don't believe it's possible to completely smother the purity of the creative world. Humans have beautiful imperfections that add an organic element to what feels emotive and real. There is so much unmatched value in real, human-made music.

My biggest concern is if society becomes so reliant on AI that we forget the immense value of our own unique creativity. However, I believe there are too many of us who will never surrender our creative voice, and that will ultimately keep the genuine, human element of music alive.

Are there approaches, artists, festivals, labels, spaces or anyone/-thing else out there who you feel deserve a shout out for taking composition into the future?

Yes, one that springs to mind is my so-called neo-classical genre often having trouble finding its place because it’s so genre bending, even though that is something I totally love about it.

For a long time, ABC Classic was considered very traditional, and there wasn't a lot of space for experimental, new-age composers like myself. However, people like Megan Burselm, an influential host here in Australia on ABC Classic are boldly educating the public and pushing the boundaries of what classical music can mean. Her support, and the support of spaces like ABC Classic, has been instrumental in helping composers like me find an audience.

For my previous album, A World Outside, to win Best Classical Album at the Australian ARIA Awards felt like a significant breakthrough. It's a huge step forward for an album that doesn't fit neatly into any one category, and it's something to be celebrated. It proves that the public is ready to see the bigger picture and embrace a more expansive definition of classical music.

The Montreux Festival intends to preserve its archive of recordings for future generations. Do you personally feels it's important that everything should remain available forever - or is there something to be said for letting beautiful moments pass and linger in the memories of those that experienced them?

I definitely lean toward archives of recordings remaining available forever.

When you look back at the eras we've passed or the incredible artists we've lost, there is a special remembrance that keeps these periods and artists alive, which can inspire us all. So much would otherwise be lost.

A book can remain for generations and almost accumulate gravity as it gets older. I feel archives of beautiful moments captured forever are something to be truly cherished. They allow for a certain legacy and maintain a strong emotional hold for generations to come.