Tranquility, Slow Music, and The Bird
written by Nicky Sohn
2019 GLFCAM Gerald Fischer Fellow, Cycle 10
I am afraid of birds: that is number one. I have always been afraid of birds. Sure, this fear has lessened as I got older, but that does NOT mean I can hold in a scream if there is a bird near me.
Number two: I am not known for my calmness and patience. In fact, I’m scared of those. One of the things I had to learn (and am still in the process of learning) after leaving The Juilliard School of Music was “how to chill.” Being born in the bustling city of Seoul, Korea, having lived in New York City for nine years, and briefly resided in Los Angeles for two, I have always been knee-deep in busy streets, loud people, and nosy pigeons. The amount of daily stress that accumulated became unbearable. I realized I was overloading for well over a decade, both physically and mentally, and I needed to get out.
So I left the United States. 2019 was my first year being out of school after ten years at different music schools, and I kept myself busy with professional work: commissions and artist residencies. I wanted to go far far away from all the people and pressure, and so I decided to go on an adventure to live in Berlin and travel in Europe for two full months. This was my first time actively trying to spare time for myself to “chill” and “breathe.”
During my time in Berlin, I did absolutely nothing but go to museums, read “Norwegian Wood” over and over (what a perfect book to cry to), and take long walks. There were days where I would go without saying a single word. I avoided being around a piano despite the sudden urges to go find one. I really did get away from it all of it, and unexpectedly, I reveled in this tranquility.
It was on one of my typical Berlin days, the routine museum visit and walk, when I got a call from Gabriela that I was admitted to her Academy. I had met her a few months back at the Aspen Summer Music Festival and quickly, I was magnetized to her words, her charisma, and her music. When we spoke on the phone about the project and cycle I was in, she suggested perhaps I explore something that was new and different from what I normally do — writing something that is less rhythmic, more inward, and not quite as fast.
It was entirely true: a large majority of my work emphasizes rhythm and speed. To answer “why” would be speculation but here is my take: I get bored really easily, tending not to dwell on one idea for long even when I think or speak. My thoughts are always jumping around, and I find repetition quite dull in life. Fast music comes more naturally and slow music has been a fear of mine.
Number three: Writing a slow piece that runs over 10 minutes long? Beyond me.
But Gabriela had a point. Expanding my musical language would be beneficial. For the first draft, I decided to explore a Korean heroine figure, Yu Gwan-Sun from the era of Japanese occupation. Worried about distorting or badly representing this honorable figure, composing this piece proved to be more difficult than I expected. I kept feeling I wasn’t getting the essence of it and I wasn’t being true to the text I was given by my librettist. I was the embodiment of a pile of doubt when I heard the piece, albeit beautifully sung by soprano Jessica River and baritone Matthew Worth, during the first workshop in Boonville, CA. At that moment, I realized that I was playing it way too safe in order to honor the figure. The entire piece was very flat and lifeless.
Contrasting my inner turmoil to personal shortcomings, the Academy/Boonville was the most peaceful place I had ever been, and being there gave me a sense of deep calmness I had not previously known. Almost unbelievably, with the support of Gabriela, I even held one of her chickens in my arms. Its grotesque avian features were just a few inches from my face, but I trusted Gabriela and truly believed her when she reassured me that it would be ok.
But inevitably, my fear of slow music set in and it was real and concrete. I didn’t think continuing with the draft I created was going to work at all. Through this time of confusion and uprootedness, I decided to go back to the things Gabriela and I talked about during my time at her Academy. During this period of recollection, I revisited the advice about music and career, but also personal life. At the time, I had relationship and friendship problems and naturally I asked how to remedy this. Gabriela gave me the most obvious but profound advice — in order for something to work, it should be easy and natural.
All this time, I actively struggled to make things work with people, my music, and myself, but hearing her say that made me question my entire attitude and temperament. I realized that if things were to work out, it shouldn’t be a constant struggle. With my music, I had spent all my energy to make things make sense in the narrative aspect that I lost sight on how the actual music was unfolding. It wasn’t about slow music or fast music, it was about the attitude I had on the piece; it had to feel easy and natural.
After I got back from the Academy, I scrapped the entire draft. I began working on something that I had never done before — working with text based on my everyday life. This wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for an instrumental piece, but this time it was for vocal music. The message of this piece is personal, blunt, and revealing. It took a lot of courage for me, but getting help from my younger brother who knows me and my music very well was an immense support. The work is, at certain points, fast and rhythmic (oops!) but it does contain some of the simplest and slowest elements I have ever written with. Even though my attempt to overcome the fear of making slow music somewhat failed, I was able to put down my honesty on the staff paper.
My biggest fear hasn't changed. It’s not being alone or writing slow music. It’s birds! There’s a reason that’s number one. Everything about them scares me half to death: the eyes, the beak, the feathers, and, the absolute worst, the feet! My dad told me that even when I was a baby in a stroller, when a bird would come too close, I would absolutely freak out. I love Messiaen but when the music really sounds like birds, it gives me goose bumps, and not the good kind either. And you ask, why do I mention it? Because GLFCAM somehow made me hold a real, live bird.
Born in 1992 in Seoul, Korea, Nicky Sohn has recently been appointed as the composer-in- residence of the National Theater of Korea. Learn more from Nicky’s bio page.