Name: Tina Davidson
Occupation: Composer
Nationality: American
Current release: Tina Davidson's memoir, Let Your Heart Be Broken, is out March 14th 2023 via Boyle & Dalton. For a Spotify playlist with music mentioned in the book, go here.

If you enjoyed this interview with Tina Davidson and would like to keep up to date with his music, visit her official website. 



Where does the impulse to create something come from for you? What role do often-quoted sources of inspiration like dreams, other forms of art, personal relationships, politics etc play?

My music springs from an idea first formulated in words. The titles come well before the music itself and are, to some extent, my map of the world, guiding me as I compose. They are metaphors or secret encoded meanings for my pieces that I understand, do not understand, and come to understand.

Dark Child Sings, for example, is my dark child singing out his life, with growing ecstasy and passion, of sexual beginnings, of calm lullabies and of strong chants.

For you to get started, do there need to be concrete ideas – or what some have called a 'visualisation' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

When a new piece of music stirs within me, I feel it in my stomach. It twists and wrenches. I know it is time to start, but I bargain for a later date. The piece quiets for a moment, then twists again.

There is no real latitude in here. It pretends to placate me, but ultimately is relentless. I am relieved. Without its insistence, I am lost.

Is there a preparation phase for your process? Do you require your tools to be laid out in a particular way, for example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

My composing process is supplemented by other creative processes.

For instance, I journal a lot about my next composition – what is the intent or destination – what am I to learn. I also draw – allowing for an emotion to come out in color and shape.

I am always interested in energy and how it flows from one place to another.  

Do you have certain rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating? What role do certain foods or stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise or reading poetry play?

I have a wonderful studio that looks out on a garden with a creek flowing through it – my outer sanctuary for my inner sanctuary.  And I have two pianos, my grand piano is for teaching and playing, and my upright black Yamaha is my work horse - my composing desk sits next to it.

I still compose with pencil and paper – I love the feel of the paper under my fingers and am very fussy about what kind of pencil I use.

What do you start with? How difficult is that first line of text, the first note?

There are many times in the composing process when there is nothing. I sit with pencil in hand, poised over the staff paper, and there is absolutely nothing. I am stationary. Instead, I sort out my desk, and do paperwork all morning.

My dreams are vague and hard to remember. They fade quickly. Waiting for the music is disquieting.

So, I have learned to embrace procrastination not as a stalemate, but part of my artistic process.

Once you've started, how does the work gradually emerge?

I grow disconnected from my daily life as the time nears to make the next step in my piece. The material is written, a ciphery of note heads strewn over many smudged pages. I have the whole in my hand almost like an architectural drawing – without real substance until the first brick is laid.

Soon it will be time to put the notes in place between bar lines.

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 over the process or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?

Sometimes, my work has taken on a personality I don’t expect. The music moves from dissonance and distance through hypnotic ripping of chords and becomes more tonal, until finally the melodies come sweet and strong.

I am uneasy about the transition, but let it be.

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?

My music is an experience, not an event.

Most music is circular and contained. Mine, on the other hand, is languid and rests on its elbows like a horizon. I create a linear shape, where the music evolves, transforms, and becomes. The listener moves with the music though a passage of time, into another place.

In the end, the music breaks open like an egg, its content finally revealed. The gift is the inner and outer, the private and public. The soul unveiled.

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?

Since I compose with pencil and paper, putting it on the computer is the final step when the piece is complete.  Here I can do a little revision or use the play back tool to assess the piece.

When I have time to allow the piece to rest, I can return with fresh ears and eyes.

What's your take on the role and importance of production, including mixing and mastering for you personally? How involved do you get in this?

As a composer working out of a classical music tradition, I am reliant on performers to complete the process of my composition.  I have a sense of continually collaborating.  First with the idea of the piece and secondly with the performers.

The truth is, music is inert until musicians breathe life into it, adding their understanding and nuances.

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?

There is always some let down after a piece is completed. The experience of composing can be all consuming - like an intense love affair. When is it over, I am tired, a bit sore, and not always in the best of moods.

But soon it is time to put on my work boots and commit to new thinking and experimenting. I will hold off a bit and work to deepen my clarity and focus. At the same time, I want to dance and play, revitalize my deep and abiding commitment to my work.

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?

I scrub the kitchen floor and think of the Shakers’ motto “Hands to work, hearts to God.” For them, every part of life is a spiritual manifestation of God – the God within – whether they make furniture or say their prayers. Cleaning the floor is a reflection of our lives. We keep our place of rest with care and openness; it is evidence of the way we live.

Hands to Work, Hearts to God. Everything is us; every part is a reflection of the inner light. The house we live in is also the house within. My music, garden, connection to my family, community, country, and world; it is all the same.