July 2023: Things will work out, somehow
New Music Gathering, a choral reading, and a lot of (trying to) rest
Dear friends,
As I alluded to in my announcement that I was switching to Substack, the past month has been a wild ride for me emotionally. A lot of unexpected things have happened, and I’m still in the midst of processing it all. I’m in a stage of transition, finding my bearings after having spent most of the last few years in what students at my college have called the HaverBubble: a tiny, idyllic, uber-liberal college campus that protected me in many ways from the harshness of the real world. Some criticize this characteristic of Haverford College, and I agree with certain of these criticisms, yet I also feel that it was right for a particular stage that I had to pass through, and that I can now be glad to be through with.
On June 21st-24th, I was in Portland, Oregon for New Music Gathering (NMG), where I was to perform my solo fluxing, quivering, transforming. I did…but it went very differently from planned. A panic attack at an airport led to my luggage never being put on the plane, and inside that luggage were items that I needed for my performance: two extra-large Chinese calligraphy brushes, and the Next World Tarot card deck. Because of how important those precise items were to my piece and how difficult it was to find good substitutes, I decided to transform my performance…by cutting my hair.
You can read more about my performance, what led up to it, and what happened afterwards in my Substack post from last week (content warnings: description of intense psychological states, references to struggling with gender identity):
A Performance Reimagined: On “fluxing, quivering, transforming”
As part of my music senior thesis project, I composed a piano solo and performed it in my senior thesis recital. The piece, fluxing, quivering, transforming, narrates my intertwined journeys of gender identity and mental health, placing them in the context of my Chinese heritage. It begins, like an ordinary piano work, on the keyboard, but later invol…
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But anyway, the hair-cutting at NMG, which brought my performance thoroughly into the realm of performance art (also known as live art or artistic action), seemed to have touched a tender nerve in me, for I was in shambles afterwards. It’s not uncommon for performance artists to have intense emotional experiences after performance, and Lainie Fefferman, one of the NMG organizers, did warn me before I performed, but I still did not expect to be affected so strongly. I was able to steady myself enough to regain basic functioning, but this meant that when immediately after NMG I flew to Kalamazoo, Michigan for Splice Institute, I ended up not participating in much at all at the institute, instead spending much time recuperating in my dorm room.
When finally I went home after Splice, I tried to focus on letting myself rest after what has really been a busy few months (considering the stresses of two senior theses and graduation too!). My mad neurodivergent bodymind does not like to rest sometimes, however, so instead I end up studying ASL through the Lingvano app or writing increasingly complex character descriptions for a novel I’m going to write, when I should be sleeping or getting “actual work” done. (I do have a difficult time defining “serious” interests versus “not serious” interests. I have never understood the concept of a hobby.)
Thus I’ve been procrastinating on a lot of stuff that has just felt too scary and overwhelming to think about. I meant to share about some of these projects/plans in this newsletter, but I don't feel ready to yet. Maybe I’ll send another newsletter in two or so weeks with these updates, or maybe I’ll just wait until a month from now.
Procrastination from anxiety is something that I have struggled with for most of my life, but one part of the anxiety that I’m feeling lately, that I might “go too fast” and that will cause me to crash, is somewhat justified. I do have a tendency to move too fast, as some part of me is often ready and enthusiastic earlier than other parts of me. So navigating the shifting middle grounds between too fast and too slow is difficult.
Amidst all the angst I’ve been feeling this July, here’s one piece of exciting news: on Saturday, July 15th, I went to New York City for a free workshop hosted by The Choral Composer/Conductor Collective (C4). The workshop was for composers to have their choral works read by members of C4. I had my SATB a cappella work, Prayer for Piece, read by the group, conducted by Hannah Cai Sobel, a graduate of Swarthmore College whom I personally knew.
I actually started this piece when I was in 11th grade, inspired by the March For Our Lives school walkouts, but as my imagination was way too ambitious for the skills of a high schooler who had only written art songs and solo piano works and who had little formal music theory training, it took me a few years and several thorough revisions to make the piece sound the way I wanted. The repetitive, mantra-like text is based on the international peace prayer, “May peace prevail on Earth.”
I was nervous about the reading, for I had never had a choral piece read before and worried about my compositional technique, and I also had some lingering embarrassment from having attempted this weirdly ambitious project as a high schooler. But it actually went really well. Although my piece had some unusual harmonies, the vocalists told me that their parts individually made enough sense to follow. Throughout the day, I also got to sing with the other participants the works that the other composers brought in, which was really fun. After I finish editing my score, I’m going to send my piece to choral directors in hopes of getting it performed.
Featured Creator
Once a month, I feature here a creative person -- musician, artist, or otherwise -- whose work I think you should check out! I especially aim to spotlight those who are earlier in their careers and who are socially and/or ecologically conscious in their work
This month’s feature is Jessi George Harvey! I met Jessi at New Music Gathering, where they spoke on a panel about purpose. They happen to be an alumn of Bryn Mawr College, which is in a consortium with Haverford.
Jessi Harvey is a Montana-born, American freelance composer and teacher, gardener and reader, thinker and walker. Also known as George, their works are based in nature, integrating social curiosity, humor, and occasionally a wryly jovial look at the state of the world; described by Seattle Mag as “full of surprises and consistently attention-holding” and by commissioner Julia Lougheed as “diving into the absurd corners of the human condition - the moments where you have to laugh so you don’t cry”. Jessi Harvey’s work “by the nature of our conversation” was awarded first place at the 2020 Darkwater Womxn in Music Festival. Works commissioned and performed have spanned the tides, the eruption histories of volcanos, the life cycle of the potato, and the relationships between humanity and nature.
Website: www.jessiharveymusic.com
Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/jessiharvey_composer
Instagram: @jessiharveymusic
Youtube: @jessiharveymusic
So, that’s all I have for you all, for now. Please read my essay on the NMG performance if you haven’t yet. And take care of yourselves in these times of extremes. (I mean, this July has been the hottest month on record for the planet! Even if you’re not neurodivergent like me and have a mind bent towards intensity, you’re living through unprecedented extremes.)
A Contemplative Offering
Is there something that you do too fast, that you want to experience or process more slowly?
Peace, especially the concept of “world peace,” can sound very abstract and overly idealistic. But how does peace and/or the lack of it concretely relate to your life? And how might it relate to the lives of the people you interact with? And for people you don’t know and may never know?