'sliding doors'

I've just finished the first draft of my Manchester Collective commission, "I know that you know that I know" (working title). It's a 15 minute piece for Sean Shibe (Scottish virtuoso guitarist playing electric guitar) and string quartet, touring in 2023 (see dates 👓). Here are some thoughts on writing music at the moment.....

It strikes me how random the capture of ideas really is. Writing a piece for me is dreaming up many ideas then catching a few out of the sky with a net and then taking them into my studio and dissecting them, growing them and then, when I'm really really ready, setting them free. From the time I choose to have ideas, to the ideas I pay attention to, to the ones I actually decide to capture is so random. What you, the listener, sitting in the audience, are listening to, is an arbitrary point in my imagination. If I hadn't taken that phone call, or walked the dog another route, or actually bothered to hoover the house, you would be listening to something completely different. Sorry to go all 'sliding doors' on you but perhaps it's something I appreciate more, now working on music therapy placements as part of my training, the fleetingness of musical ideas - they are there - then they are gone. In music therapy, it doesn't matter what they are, just what they might do, in relation to my client's music, along the way.

I want my new 15 minute work, "I know that you know that I know" (working title) to act as a container for the listener to put whatever they choose into the experience. I aim for it to be holding, grounding and non-prescriptive. My hope is I've left enough space for the listener to be playful and use the space to feel how they want to feel. But intentions for pieces can be funny things, so often they take on a life of their own. If it is coming to where you live, and you would like to come along, do share your experience of the piece with me.