Program Notes — “Cinema for the Ears” — November 5, 2024

Woodrow Murray: Distant Signals

In Distant Signals I explore the modification of recorded sounds that can be created over time. I begin with the less edited versions of my sounds (such as a bell, stapler, and spoken words) and gradually begin to apply more effects over time such as filters, resonators, and delay that remove the sound quality farther away from the original source. This change from earthly to otherworldly sounds is what the title “Distant Signals” reflects, as these mysterious noises sound as if they could be radio broadcasts from another world. To create a sense of interconnectedness, a few of the original sounds come back for brief moments later on, reminding us of the starting point. Finally, the piece concludes with the same sound bite as it opened with, bringing us back home to Earth after going on this distant journey.

Ye-chong Jeon: Ye-chong

Ye-chong is a personal journey through my name, which has been with me since birth. It carries a special meaning: “Ye” means “be polite,” and “Chong” means “be brilliant.” While I have sometimes felt the pressure to meet these expectations, I have come to appreciate my name for its sound and look. In this piece, I recorded different people saying my name, and it is fascinating to hear the slight variations in their pronunciations. Each variation reflects how individual relationships influence the way my name is expressed. Throughout the composition, “Ye-chong” is repeated with different filters, pitches, and speeds, creating a playful sound landscape. The piece concludes with a clearer version of “Ye-chong,” symbolizing my journey to embrace my true self amid many voices.

Yuanning Gao: Preludes

This piece, Preludes, draws inspiration directly from T. S. Eliot’s poem of the same title. I tried to grasp the sense of darkness, struggle, and wandering in a postindustrial modern city. Opening with the evocative patter of rain, the soundscape shifts subtly yet relentlessly from reality into abstraction, pulling the listener into a disorienting and elusive sonic dreamscape — an homage to Eliot’s modernist vision of postindustrial decadence.

Euna Joh:  ||: TIME :||

||: Time :|| is inspired by passage from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. The use of the repeat symbols “||:” in the title signifies both the recurrence and the forward flow of time. In this piece, moments repeat, but they are never exactly the same, capturing the essence of growth and change.

For everything there is a season,
and a time for every matter under heaven.
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones,
and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

Jack Jones: Two in a thousand

Two in a thousand came from several recordings I made in the Musical Arts Center theater after all the recitals and rehearsals were over. My friend and I wanted to capture the authenticity of an empty stage, and it eventually became the inspiration for my piece. It was both a freeing and creepy experience — so I tried to encapsulate that feeling with the usage of electroacoustic processing.

Shawn McLain: (not so) still life

(not so) still life is my approach to recontextualizing what some of the everyday sounds I experience mean to me. Before returning to school, the sound of cards and video games were directly linked to my job of buying and selling trading card and video game collections. Alongside this, trumpet was a looming source of stress after I made the decision to return to school and chase my dreams. This piece has been built by recording and playing with various sounds from my everyday life created using playing cards, dice, air through trumpet, friends playing video games, and other sounds I found myself hearing in my everyday life. It’s been cathartic to have fun with the things I care deeply about while releasing the pressure of focusing on them as a career. I am deeply thankful to my friends Caleb, Alex, and Neff for helping me relearn how to enjoy my hobbies as well as allowing me to record them for this project.

Taeho Kim: Words Play

Words Play is based on Kim Sowol’s poem, “If I Die?” The aim was to create a new context by arbitrarily combining words from the poem, though the original poem and this work do not hold any specific semantic relationship. Instead, the poem was used simply as material for composition. As the title of the piece suggests, the intent was to play with various words in a creative way.

Reed Mullican: Malade au printemps…

My starting point for this project were some lines of MallarmĂ© — “Malade au printemps, mort en automne” — from his poem “For Anatole’s Tomb” written to mourn the death of his son. Like the text, my piece is also divided into two parts: a “spring (printemps)” part meant to evoke the spontaneity of plants and animals in springtime, and an “autumn (automne)” part that sounds moodier and desolate. To make these sounds, I recorded some vocal noises (there are two: an ascending “badapadap” and a chirping tongue trill), looped them, and put them through various filters, delay effects, and other distortions. My treatment of these sounds in the “spring” section is much freer and rawer (you can sometimes hear isolated moments of the original sound followed by a wave of effects), but they also subtly form the basis of the second “autumn” section as well — underneath all the textural changes, there‘s a sense of something cyclical. Overall, it tells a story of Anatole — or any loved one — at first carefree in the wondrous world around them, then consumed by overwhelming sound, and then fading upwards into nothingness.

An-Ni Wei: Fragments

Fragments is an electro-acoustic composition that explores self-immersion amid daily stresses with a playful spirit. It delves into our inner dialogues, capturing the quirky essence of a heterotopia — where reality bends and dances. Through sound, Fragments reflects the chaos and struggle of our thoughts, resembling a woven net of fragmented emotions. Moments of harsh self-critique encourage us to find humor in vulnerability. As listeners engage, they navigate their own emotional maze, experiencing the weight of self-immersion. This work reveals moments of self-reflection and release, allowing playful joy to rise from the chaos.

Laura Pacheco Nieto: Deadline

Deadline is a piece inspired by the different feelings that can arise in the process of making a submission before a deadline. The piece contrasts the perception of time and the flow of ideas during this creative process. Sometimes these experiences are accompanied by frustration or even anguish, feelings that the piece conveys as the deadline approaches. In turn, on a different plane, ideas that come and go, fleeting thoughts and reminders of things to be done are evoked, all in a continuous pulsing of relentless time.

On the other hand, temporal perception becomes somewhat paradoxical in situations like this. As the deadline approaches, time seems to run faster and faster. At times, we are more than aware of it, at others, time simply seems to vanish and our thoughts create a new rhythm, a new perception of reality. These kinds of sensations are evoked in Deadline, a piece that struggles between reality and the endearing of the mind.

W.E. Hawkins: Improv Sculpture No. 1: Oceans of Europa

Improv Sculpture No 1: Oceans of Europa explores the subconscious synergies between five improvisations recorded within a two-hour span. These five energetic journeys on the keyboard each used one of five mostly un-pitched sounds taken from everyday items — plastic cup scrape on table, dice in a box, hole-puncher, aluminum foil, and penny on a glass vase. Each improvisation represents my first encounter with the respective sound on the sampler keyboard, enhancing the organic and subconscious nature of the experiment. The chaos resulting from their simultaneous, unaltered timelines reminded me of complex plate tectonics sped up much like a time-lapse of a growing plant. Using this analogy as a guide, I carved down the complexity, sculpting out the synergy of a single space, a churning sea beneath icy tectonics, if you will.

Hsuan Chang Kitano: H & H

H & H, short for “Hsuan & Harpsichord,” captures the connection between the harpsichordist and the instrument. The piece draws from the daily rituals of caring for the harpsichord — cleaning, tuning, and repairing — celebrating these simple yet meaningful acts. As these sounds blend with the flow of everyday life, from early morning to late-night practice and performance, the music transitions into fantasy-like passages, illustrating the mental and emotional journey within the harpsichordist’s mind. H & H offers a glimpse into the quiet yet profound moments that shape the harpsichord’s voice, revealing its resonant narrative.