Urban Inventory
by Wang Lu
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Dear Wang Lu, how do you define your own music? My music is often a reflection of the world as I’m able to observe and experience it, as well as an imaginary extension of realities. It reflects my personal life and cultural experiences of growing up in economic reforming China, where I was fascinated with both traditional Chinese music and western music, and having lived across different continents and cities such as Xi’an, Beijing, New York, Rome, Chicago, Providence and Berlin. Is there a set of reasons why you write music? There is a positive energy generated when I’m creative which adds an important dimension to everyday life, despite the fact that composing is painfully hard work. It’s a way of communicating a personal expression without necessarily being explicit. |
photo by Liina Siib |
What are some of the most essential points in your life that can be found at the foundation of your musical output?
Coming to New York from Beijing to study at Columbia University for my doctorate, and later the experience of traveling between the US and China every year, which sharpened my ear to and made me more observant to the sound environments people experience.
Do you ever consider things you deprive yourself of for the sake of your music making needs and schedule?
I try not to suffer too much for my art, but during deadline crunch time or a particularly creative outburst, I’ll skip a shower or get by on a simple meal. These days having a newborn around complicates things even more.
Can you share with us one or two moments that you consider among the most exhilarating in your career so far?
One was the first time hearing my work played by an orchestra. This was in 2008, when the Minnesota Orchestra premiered Wailing, after having first heard a reading of the piece in Belgium. The sound coming from the stage was overwhelming. All the notes on page that had accompanied me for months came to life.
Another important event was the recent Miller Theatre Composer Portrait, where works spanning more than 10 years were played side by side with the a very recent composition. The experience was very much like flipping through one’s photo album and looking at oneself in the mirror.
Coming to New York from Beijing to study at Columbia University for my doctorate, and later the experience of traveling between the US and China every year, which sharpened my ear to and made me more observant to the sound environments people experience.
Do you ever consider things you deprive yourself of for the sake of your music making needs and schedule?
I try not to suffer too much for my art, but during deadline crunch time or a particularly creative outburst, I’ll skip a shower or get by on a simple meal. These days having a newborn around complicates things even more.
Can you share with us one or two moments that you consider among the most exhilarating in your career so far?
One was the first time hearing my work played by an orchestra. This was in 2008, when the Minnesota Orchestra premiered Wailing, after having first heard a reading of the piece in Belgium. The sound coming from the stage was overwhelming. All the notes on page that had accompanied me for months came to life.
Another important event was the recent Miller Theatre Composer Portrait, where works spanning more than 10 years were played side by side with the a very recent composition. The experience was very much like flipping through one’s photo album and looking at oneself in the mirror.
How do you want your audience to react or interact with your work?
I hope my work is captivating enough to keep an audience’s attention throughout a performance or listening. It doesn’t have to appeal to universally shared or accepted aesthetics or experiences, but I’d like for there to be a strong reaction or evocation.
Do you follow routine or do you follow your muse?
I don’t have a routine. When the conditions allow for it, I take long walks to start conceptualizing a new piece. But now with a 6 month old baby, my routine is to be 100% with her mentally and emotionally, and then to try very quickly switching to composing mode when she is asleep.
Knowing a bit about your travels, can you tell us how does a surrounding landscape affect the sonic landscape that you aim to create?
I don’t often try to translate or recreate faithfully an environment or landscape from my memory, but the impact can often be felt years later. Sometimes it’s very subtle for us to realize. For instance, when my family and I drove through the desert of western Xinjiang over twenty years ago, there was nothing but extremely powerful gusts of wind pushing our car from left to right. I can still hear and feel that sensation, and having an experience like that can be a powerful influence on my work at unforeseen moments.
I don’t try to take stock of these memories, but they stay with you, often unconsciously, and then you can draw on them to influence a particular way of thinking.
Who are the usual suspects in the art world that never fail to amaze you with their work?
Caravaggio and Van Gogh.
What is the funniest story you’ve heard of recently?
Thanks to a youtube comment, I discovered that 12 min 28 seconds into Stockhausen’s hour-long vocal work Stimmung, the singing voice of Homer Simpson appears like this.
#WhatMatters A paragraph about what matters to you the most at this point in time and how does your work and life reflect that.
At this point in my life my 6 month old baby matters the most to me. I’m exhilarated and exhausted by her. My entire life and work certainly reflects this emotional and physical experience. I learn from her to be even more direct with my expression and wishes as an artist, and that every moment is precious and not to be wasted.
Thank you and Good luck ahead!