When I first got the confirmation from Michael that I would be writing for his public exhibition, I felt a strong mix of fear and excitement. The excitement comes from an obvious place; this was a huge opportunity for me, larger than any I’d had before. The fear, though, was because I knew of the deeply historical and emotional nature of what the series was about. For many people, especially the aboriginal people of Tasmania, the history of thew state and events such as the Black Line bring up a great deal of hurt and intergenerational trauma.
Less significant in adding to my nervousness was the fact that I had never written a solid 10 minute piece of music before, and this job was to do three of those, and I had never had my music played publicly. What a daunting undertaking!
The process itself was largely a lot of fun and experimentation, with a little bit of telling story through sounds (chains, stomps, etc.) and new styles for me to try out. There were frequent online meetings for feedback, which I was always super nervous for. But Michael was ever an encourager, and very patient. The closest I ever got to criticism from him was when I presented a rather movie-esque, full symphonic melody, which he kindly but honestly said was ‘much too upbeat... like, kind of cheesy’ (I’m paraphrasing, but these were the key words). You can hear this piece on my music page - look for Hero’s Call. It became very apparent how fortunate I was to have such a positive dynamic and relationship with the person I was working for, and could see how poorly things could go if that wasn’t the case. Art is so personal, it must be crushing to put yourself into something and have it be torn to shreds.
Good thing I didn’t!
The whole experience was educational and formative for me, both as a composer and to some degree as a person as well. People who have known me well and for a long time will know that I grew through my teen years and into young adulthood with a proudly crass style of humour. The subject matter of this exhibition challenged that, and really helped me to have more empathy in my speech. I have a lot of growth left in this area, but I’d like to think I made a lot of progress in the 6 months or so I spent engaged in this work.
In this particular project, I was able to explore this value of empathy that forms a significant part of my Christian faith. This was in researching the historical narrative of the aboriginal people of Tasmania and trying to actively engage with it musically in order to effectively convey the horror of the past, tension of the present, and hope for a future building of trust, knowing there remain challenges to fulfill this hope. These efforts expressed some of my convictions about Creator God making people to thrive best when embodying a deep respect for each other's diverse cultural histories.
Then came the day when I actually got to go down to Hobart with my wife and see the displays myself. My super fantastic friend Bentley came down from Melbourne to see it, too. The three sculptures were each nearly 6m tall and housed in different church buildings. My music looped through speakers in the rooms. As in, for any people in the vicinity to hear! It was powerful to experience such a tangible result of my labour – to stand by my wife and my friend in those spaces as my music played out in it.
The opening night for the series, set in the church of piece 3 (Courage), was attended by an assortment of people from different backgrounds and wealth and political statuses. It was pretty wild for me. There was even free food! People offered me encouraging words, and I shared a beautiful conversation with a lovely man who had suffered a terrible personal tragedy in the last year. That interaction was precious to me and seemed to likewise be for him.
Without a doubt, it was this first half of 2022 that kickstarted a new understanding of what I could do with music, where I could take it. I think I can actually see art music in my future as one way of promoting values that are important to me, like compassion, empathy, and justice. And, of course, other themes pertaining specifically to my personal faith, like the beauty of God’s creation or his goodness. I like music just for the sake of it. I love music that can be part of an immersive story or experience, and I believe in the power of music to work with other artforms to help shape people’s hearts. This project with Michael has lit a fire in me. Well, call me Kerosine.
To hear what I’ve been harping on about here (no pun intended), scroll down to the fancy, dark section of my music page. To go directly to the project’s page on the artist’s site, go here.
Below are some notes I took throughout the process. You can click/tap to enlarge them.
