In the very near future I'll be releasing my first solo work, Dawn of Grace. It's taken a good number of years to get to this point, worthy of documenting some reflections.
YouTube Link Coming Soon
Bandcamp Link Coming Soon
Releasing solo music
I’ve always felt my artistic path has been a bit of a beautiful mistake, that it would challenge my adolescent self, a realist who prioritized pragmatism, logic, and objectivism. I’d enter a university thinking I’d be studying the human body, and leave that establishment curious instead about the human soul.
Are you still a musician if you don’t release music?
Five years have passed since I embarked on this artistic endeavour. Somehow I stumbled into the world of music, not just audio technology and sound design, and while a musician is probably defined simply as someone who makes music, it feels a large part of being a musician is sharing compositions and music to a greater audience.
I’ve had the absolute fortune to collaborate with so many talented musicians and repeatedly pushed off any solo endeavours because well… what exactly do I have to say with music? I’ve realized this artistic adventure has been a means not to quench a desire for self-expression (for years I struggled to figure out what “self-expression” even is), but rather to quell every-hungry curiosities and to experience as much of the world around me: its people, their ideas, somehow with sounds and technologies. I love the process of learning and developing ideas, but struggle to balance that development with a final delivery that is also personally satisfactory. Everything I have attempted in creation has felt far from final, but I have generally felt satisfied with this reality because the result was far less important than the fun and discovery in its creation.
If what I make as an artist is truly an extension of myself, and I am forever feeling unfinished, how can my work ever truly be finalized? What is final? Surely not my abilities - a master of none, a chaser of exploration, ideas and puzzles never quite done. Why would I want to release something if I know I could just continue exploring and practicing, and simply make something “better”? What gives?
Process as product, development as delivery.
That question has lingered around me for quite some while: what is/would be my intention in releasing solo works? I don’t have lofty goals; no compelling desire to leave behind a legacy of my best work, nor a need for recognition of my solo endeavours. Nor do I think what the world truly needs right now, is an experimental project of mine. What would releasing my own solo work offer to the world at large, and even more directly yet, the world of people immediately around me? Further so, what does it offer even just to me that might make it a worthwhile pursuit? Where is the value in releasing my personal projects?
I’ve enjoyed the process of discovery through the act of creating, which is a process that doesn’t require any release at all. I’ve expressed my barrier toward releasing solo works with other creative friends and inquired over time to learn more about others’ motivations. Why do you create? Why do you compose? What makes you want to release it? What makes you want to tour? What is your primary purpose behind sharing your music? In that process, I’ve learnt about and fallen in love with how and why some artists choose to share their creations. Amongst my inquiry, I received some beautiful responses: some composers write music as gifts to their friends, some write to find clarity within themselves, and some release music as the last step in an exercise of letting go.
Releasing solo work felt like something I, supposedly an artist, “should” do, to build a portfolio, to have something to show for my work and dedication “behind closed doors”. But to whom? For years, this “should” didn’t seem like a good enough reason and so I’ve paused this task until I found a deeper, more meaningful reason.
Some time in late 2023, it hit me that I would feel contentment and value in releasing solo work with an archival focus. A means of documenting momentary snapshots throughout my growth and journey. Releasing work that might not even necessary feel good in the moment, but when I’m 80 looking back at my own life would appreciate that it exists so that I can relive that moment. A friend of mine suggested I lock myself in a room for a few hours, press record, and release an album... I like to think I listen.
…
What’s in a name?
Names are interesting things no? They’re how humans acknowledge and refer to each other. They hold the memories of a friend, the reputation and legacy of a stranger, the hopes of a parent, but never the complete lived experience of that person’s life.
I never felt comfortable using my full name for a project name: “Andrea Wong’s [insert project name here]”, the “Andrea Wong Quartet”… I’m still not sure why that is yet, and maybe that’ll change in the future. Currently, there feels to be too much emphasis on myself as a person when the focus could instead be on the work, the theme, the collaboration, the ideas, the message, the execution… I suppose you can’t fully separate a work from its creator. I also suppose a solo debut album would be the perfect opportunity to use your name but it still feels too closely bound. Perhaps I want the sounds to have the opportunity to exist without me. How does that make any sense?
The romanization of my given Chinese birth name is Hiu Yan, a literal translation would be Dawn and Grace respectively. My clumsy childhood self was once perplexed how these characters related to me. Single Chinese characters put in different combinations with each other can create a large pool of more complex vocabularies, phrases, and meanings - a bit of a literary, poetic, frequently punny puzzle. I have yet to experience what would be the dawn of attaining gracefulness, but this translation began to feel like a fitting title for a solo debut album guided by an archival spirit. If dawn indicates the beginning of this journey, I wonder: what will dusk sound like?
Dawn of Grace, the album
“Dawn of Grace” is an exploration of a limited 2-module VCV patch composed of simple delay and ring modulator parameters mapped to an external MIDI controller. Manipulating these parameters while playing the piano, this collection of recordings is a simultaneous improvisation and interplay of piano and electronics.
I've found that making music with digital electronic instruments can feel foreign and frightening in comparison to physical acoustic instruments; and that these feelings are a result of not yet fully understanding their vastly different process of sound production. Perhaps if I could display the beauty that occurs when two viscerally different instruments make peace by collaborating with their unique qualities rather than competing with each other, then I could also succeed in doing the same amongst their human parallels.
I’ve discovered a newfound purpose to release music with an archival spirit - to have moments of my own personal artistic development exist in some easily consumable format. It was important to me that I didn't add any overdubbing and used only the original recorded hours-long take to maintain an honest snapshot of that day. A huge shoutout to Jesus Caballero for being my partner-in-crime on this audio archival journey with helping me in selecting, mixing, and mastering these tracks. Forever grateful for you my friend. 🙏🏻
Comments