in manus tuas
Anne Leilehua Lanzilotti
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Dear Anne,
Your new album in manus tuas is coming out today. What does this project symbolize? What is the essence of what you’re presenting and sharing with the world? I hope that the essence of this album is that communities can come together to make art. The title in manus tuas, or “in your hands” refers to several aspects of the album: the tactile nature of playing, the reference to transcription in that the works are now put into someone else’s hands from their original version—taken from Caroline’s piece of the same name—but also in a broader sense that music, and especially music in your community is in your hands. |
Photo: courtesy of the artist |
Related to the idea of music and community, I was extremely lucky to receive a grant from the University of Northern Colorado (UNCO) to help support the last stage of putting out the album. I was able to use resources from one community in my life to support several other communities. Specifically, the grant allowed me work with New Focus Recordings to release the album. New Focus is a label that I respect immensely because it is run by musicians who are honest and work constantly to support their colleagues in various ways behind the scenes. Particularly, Dan Lippel who founded the label and is its artistic director has been so supportive and really turned things around for me in putting this out when I was almost about to not release it at all.
The other portion of the funding from UNCO went to commissioning cover art and design for the album from artist Jasmine Parsia. She immediately understood the concept of the album (and talks about it more here in my liner notes). Jasmine also runs a community silkscreen class and is active in organizing community art and music events in the city where she lives. So, once I had found her artwork and things worked out to release the album New Focus, I finally felt good about the idea of putting out an album as a way to further support people who I think are making a big difference in their communities—not just the other composers on the album, but the whole creative team.
Did you have a particular group of music fans in mind when you worked on this album or were you more focused on the content and what that means to you?
In continuing with the idea of community, these are all works that I’ve taught a lot and/or performed many times in my various communities. We all only have so much bandwidth, and so I think it’s really important to amplify the voices of people who also create positive change. Caroline is not only involved with mentoring/teaching, but has also been vocal about supporting those communities who do not have a voice. She operates from a generosity mindset in the way she encourages other people to compose and put themselves out there. Andrew is also very active as a mentor in the LA Phil’s Composer Fellowship Program, and extremely supportive of his colleagues. Anna is the Composer-in-Residence for the Iceland Symphony Orchestra which includes leading the young composers’ workshop among other community building activities.
in manus tuas features works by Anna Thorvaldsdottir, Caroline Shaw, Andrew Norman and you. Why did you choose these particular works?
Anna, Caroline, and Andrew are all people I admire, and I keep coming back to their work in all forms. Playing their work is a chance for me to get to know them as composers in a deeper way. Transcription is a form of empathy; it’s not just about copying or borrowing, but about taking the perspective or physicality of another human and trying to understand it through performance. It’s a creative practice that I find compelling that has also led me to transcriptions of fantastic works by Martin Bresnick, Reiko Füting, and Dai Fujikura (whose work I’ve recorded for his label, Minabel).
In the case of my own work on the album, I had such a great experience working with percussionist Sarah Mullins while I was developing the work with choreographer Wendell Gray II. The three of us worked closely together to find sounds that worked well with the energy and the essence of the choreography that Wendell was creating for the piece. I chose it because I felt that the collaboration was about this idea of translating and transcribing motion onto instruments in a similar way, and also because working with the two of them was really meaningful.
The other portion of the funding from UNCO went to commissioning cover art and design for the album from artist Jasmine Parsia. She immediately understood the concept of the album (and talks about it more here in my liner notes). Jasmine also runs a community silkscreen class and is active in organizing community art and music events in the city where she lives. So, once I had found her artwork and things worked out to release the album New Focus, I finally felt good about the idea of putting out an album as a way to further support people who I think are making a big difference in their communities—not just the other composers on the album, but the whole creative team.
Did you have a particular group of music fans in mind when you worked on this album or were you more focused on the content and what that means to you?
In continuing with the idea of community, these are all works that I’ve taught a lot and/or performed many times in my various communities. We all only have so much bandwidth, and so I think it’s really important to amplify the voices of people who also create positive change. Caroline is not only involved with mentoring/teaching, but has also been vocal about supporting those communities who do not have a voice. She operates from a generosity mindset in the way she encourages other people to compose and put themselves out there. Andrew is also very active as a mentor in the LA Phil’s Composer Fellowship Program, and extremely supportive of his colleagues. Anna is the Composer-in-Residence for the Iceland Symphony Orchestra which includes leading the young composers’ workshop among other community building activities.
in manus tuas features works by Anna Thorvaldsdottir, Caroline Shaw, Andrew Norman and you. Why did you choose these particular works?
Anna, Caroline, and Andrew are all people I admire, and I keep coming back to their work in all forms. Playing their work is a chance for me to get to know them as composers in a deeper way. Transcription is a form of empathy; it’s not just about copying or borrowing, but about taking the perspective or physicality of another human and trying to understand it through performance. It’s a creative practice that I find compelling that has also led me to transcriptions of fantastic works by Martin Bresnick, Reiko Füting, and Dai Fujikura (whose work I’ve recorded for his label, Minabel).
In the case of my own work on the album, I had such a great experience working with percussionist Sarah Mullins while I was developing the work with choreographer Wendell Gray II. The three of us worked closely together to find sounds that worked well with the energy and the essence of the choreography that Wendell was creating for the piece. I chose it because I felt that the collaboration was about this idea of translating and transcribing motion onto instruments in a similar way, and also because working with the two of them was really meaningful.
How did your relationship with Anna, Caroline, and Andrew evolve/change, if at all, because of this new album and your interpretation of their works?
I’ve known Caroline and Andrew for a long time, but Anna is someone I’ve been getting to know better in the past couple years as we’ve been communicating about another piece we’re working on together as part of The 20/19 Project. The new work she wrote for me is for viola and electronics, called Sola, and I’ll be premiering it in a few weeks. In the time leading up to this piece, however, it was nice to have her transcription of Transitions so that I could share her voice with people and get to know her work better from studying it in this different way as a performer.
Can you say that your own understanding of and approach towards music has been transformed as a result of this album?
Working with Ryan Streber to record this album was an absolute gift. Especially recording Transitions, it was amazing to feel like the process of recording was also so strongly related to the narrative of the piece—it’s all about the difference between human and machine. When you’re recording you have to be so careful not to make any extra sounds: you can’t shuffle your feet, you can’t sniffle, and it’s really bizarre because it makes you hyperaware of being human. And yet, the process of recording and the magic you can achieve from working with an excellent engineer can move towards the perfection of a machine. To be able to play with that idea as an expressive parameter was really fun, and both this idea and just working with Ryan in general has really influenced the way I’m making music now.
Working with the other musicians on this album has also transformed my writing and playing. I mentioned working with Sarah in the development of my piece on the album, Gray but I also learned a lot by working with Karl on this album in his approach to sound—especially his beautiful way of voicing chords. Listening to our recordings and workshopping new works with him so much in the past year has influenced my approach to sound on the piano and my own writing for piano.
In addition to making, playing, transcribing, teaching music, you are also great at dissecting, analyzing and presenting music in words in program notes and extensive study papers. What does writing about music mean to you?
There are different ways that people access music: through discovering it as sound, or through experiencing it as part of an event. When I write about music, I’m often trying to find a way to let the reader/listener be in the room with us—the composer/performer and me—in order to let them into the work in a different way. Plus, it’s such a fantastic way to study the music of people I admire! When I got to write liner notes for an album of Kaija Saariaho’s music last year it meant that I could take time to read and re-read her writings, email her questions, listen to her music on repeat, and really dive deep into her approach to sound.
Can you name some of your current influences in music, literature, and art in general?
Glenn Ligon is one of my favorite artists (who is also a wonderful writer—I keep coming back to his book of essays Yourself in the World) who deals a lot with the idea of iteration, transcribing, and tracing in a way that resonates with me.
Layli Long Soldier is a poet whose work I admire; I recently used one of the texts from Whereas in one of my pieces.
Perhaps most directly related to my own work: I’m inspired by Isamu Noguchi’s life and art; I re-read his biography and autobiography every year and always find something new. He collaborated with some of the greatest minds of the twentieth century such as Frida Kahlo and Martha Graham, and his work continues to question and inspire.
Can you share with us your definitions of happiness, success, and a well-lived life?
Noguchi is an example of someone who found such profound joy as well as success through his art: especially in his designs for playgrounds, parks, and sets. His life is inspiring and was well-lived because he was able to access this joy and channel it into creating art for communities: both in his designs for public spaces and in his art for everyday life like the Akari light sculptures.
#BeatTheBlues features works and confessions of artists and non-artists about experiences and ways to beat the blues and rise from the depth of darkness?
I just read this wonderful interview with Ken Ueno where he talks about the idea that art gives us the opportunity to confront the things that we are challenged by in our everyday lives. He says, “We can shape the future by the doing, and feeling it received by others, we are enticed by our hope reflected back to us, and for a moment, we are not existentially alone.”
Thank you and congratulations!
I’ve known Caroline and Andrew for a long time, but Anna is someone I’ve been getting to know better in the past couple years as we’ve been communicating about another piece we’re working on together as part of The 20/19 Project. The new work she wrote for me is for viola and electronics, called Sola, and I’ll be premiering it in a few weeks. In the time leading up to this piece, however, it was nice to have her transcription of Transitions so that I could share her voice with people and get to know her work better from studying it in this different way as a performer.
Can you say that your own understanding of and approach towards music has been transformed as a result of this album?
Working with Ryan Streber to record this album was an absolute gift. Especially recording Transitions, it was amazing to feel like the process of recording was also so strongly related to the narrative of the piece—it’s all about the difference between human and machine. When you’re recording you have to be so careful not to make any extra sounds: you can’t shuffle your feet, you can’t sniffle, and it’s really bizarre because it makes you hyperaware of being human. And yet, the process of recording and the magic you can achieve from working with an excellent engineer can move towards the perfection of a machine. To be able to play with that idea as an expressive parameter was really fun, and both this idea and just working with Ryan in general has really influenced the way I’m making music now.
Working with the other musicians on this album has also transformed my writing and playing. I mentioned working with Sarah in the development of my piece on the album, Gray but I also learned a lot by working with Karl on this album in his approach to sound—especially his beautiful way of voicing chords. Listening to our recordings and workshopping new works with him so much in the past year has influenced my approach to sound on the piano and my own writing for piano.
In addition to making, playing, transcribing, teaching music, you are also great at dissecting, analyzing and presenting music in words in program notes and extensive study papers. What does writing about music mean to you?
There are different ways that people access music: through discovering it as sound, or through experiencing it as part of an event. When I write about music, I’m often trying to find a way to let the reader/listener be in the room with us—the composer/performer and me—in order to let them into the work in a different way. Plus, it’s such a fantastic way to study the music of people I admire! When I got to write liner notes for an album of Kaija Saariaho’s music last year it meant that I could take time to read and re-read her writings, email her questions, listen to her music on repeat, and really dive deep into her approach to sound.
Can you name some of your current influences in music, literature, and art in general?
Glenn Ligon is one of my favorite artists (who is also a wonderful writer—I keep coming back to his book of essays Yourself in the World) who deals a lot with the idea of iteration, transcribing, and tracing in a way that resonates with me.
Layli Long Soldier is a poet whose work I admire; I recently used one of the texts from Whereas in one of my pieces.
Perhaps most directly related to my own work: I’m inspired by Isamu Noguchi’s life and art; I re-read his biography and autobiography every year and always find something new. He collaborated with some of the greatest minds of the twentieth century such as Frida Kahlo and Martha Graham, and his work continues to question and inspire.
Can you share with us your definitions of happiness, success, and a well-lived life?
Noguchi is an example of someone who found such profound joy as well as success through his art: especially in his designs for playgrounds, parks, and sets. His life is inspiring and was well-lived because he was able to access this joy and channel it into creating art for communities: both in his designs for public spaces and in his art for everyday life like the Akari light sculptures.
#BeatTheBlues features works and confessions of artists and non-artists about experiences and ways to beat the blues and rise from the depth of darkness?
I just read this wonderful interview with Ken Ueno where he talks about the idea that art gives us the opportunity to confront the things that we are challenged by in our everyday lives. He says, “We can shape the future by the doing, and feeling it received by others, we are enticed by our hope reflected back to us, and for a moment, we are not existentially alone.”
Thank you and congratulations!
