Duke’s Fantasy I: picturing my imaginations
Wow, it's been a long time since my last blog post. I've been thinking about which piece to feature next, and with so many great choices, it's a tough decision. I recently attended the MATA Festival, and since the experience is still fresh in my mind, I thought it would be perfect to share about my MATA piece, Duke's Fantasy I.
Like many of you who dreamed of becoming a musician as a kid, I didn't. I wanted to be a painter. When I was about 6 or 7, after watching Pokémon, Digimon, and a bunch of other Japanese animes, I'd always draw these fantasy creatures. I thought, “This is it! I’m going to be a Pokémon (or something similar) designer”. But my mom was like, “You won't make any money in that field”. Funny enough, she was wrong because there's even less money in making music. So, being a visual artist was something I wanted to do but never happened. Then one day, I got the chance to write an open score piece for the International Contemporary Ensemble (Ensemble Evolution), and I knew this was my chance to pursue my artist dream.
Firstly, Duke's Fantasy I isn't the type of piece I usually create when it comes to notation. My musical background is pretty conventional—I've been writing with notes and staff since I was 14, and that hasn't changed. A graphic score with people improvising? That doesn't fit my musical concept at all. When I was in school, I have studied graphic and text score music by John Cage, Earle Brown, Pauline Oliveros, and Mark Applebaum. But when I tried creating my own, I felt completely lost. It's like I was stuck between knowing nothing about music and feeling like a fraud, especially since there were no traditional notes to showcase that I can actually write a melody. But that's alright. With 16 years in this field, I reminded myself that there's no need for proof. I'll simply do what I love. Besides, it's ICE we're talking about—they LOVE weird stuff. Without further ado, I started to work on this piece.
I composed (or designed?) this piece entirely in the Eighth Blackbird Creative Lab in May 2023 at the Yerkes Observatory. It was definitely the best spot for creativity, with the most creative people around and an amazing venue to compose in. I remember when I was designing the graphic, people would walk around and give some really cool feedback on it.
At first glance, you might notice three giant circle-shaped images on the score. This was my initial idea: three images indicating three movements, giving the performer a way to interpret the music horizontally over time. After setting up this structure, I added two more elements: poems and musical materials, to each movement vertically. So, there are three elements in total. I suppose I was just feeling insecure about whether I was giving the performer enough information to improvise. Each movement in my piece is deeply connected to my life experiences. The first movement, Droplets' Dance, was written while it was raining heavily outside, accompanied by intense thunderstorms. The noise was so loud that I felt inspired to recreate that chaotic soundscape. The second movement, Digital Hearts, remains somewhat of a mystery to me. At that time, ChatGPT was everywhere, and I couldn't help but worry: Could this robot eventually take my job? This led me to create an image that reflected my thoughts about AI robots. I felt the improvisation in this movement needed to be rigid and mechanical, like a robot. So I added a straightforward 4/4 time signature just before the image. The last movement, Cosmic Reverie, obviously, as I wrote it in the observatory. I composed this movement quickly because I already had the soundscape in my mind. In this movement, you might interpret the image in many ways. To me, the orbits symbolize pitch bending, the UFOs on the staff reveal the pitch set, and each star represents a shimmering timbre. Initially, the image in my mind was all in black and white, but I've always loved colorful things. And hey, it's 2023—who says a score has to be black and white? So, I decided to add some colors, and I absolutely loved it; it made me feel more like an artist.
So, that's Duke's Fantasy I. And you're probably wondering why "Duke"? Well, that's the name of my dog. He's more creative than me. You see, I'm not particularly concerned about the titles. For me, it's all about giving the audience the freedom to interpret the music in their own way. After two major performances of this piece, I realized that the art of improvisation runs much deeper than I initially thought. Before delving into this field, I thought it as simply playing random, cool things. However, I've come to understand that it requires wisdom and extensive practice to make improvisation systematic and engaging. Performers face quite the challenge when improvising with the piece for over 10 minutes. This certainly demands a lot from the performer. Moreover, as a conductor or composer, rehearsing the piece is absolutely crucial. Every time we rehearse, the performers follow my instructions, and the sound evolves significantly.
Always so many things to learn—it's truly never-ending! (MATA performance video sooooon!)