This recording was created as part of the 2021 June in Buffalo Festival, with each performer recording individually and remotely during the COVID-19 pandemic. 

Ensemble Signal, Brad Lubman, conductor; Kelli Kathman, flutes; Lisa Moore, piano; Courtney Orlando, violin; Isabel Hagen, viola; Lauren Radnofsky, cello. Sound Engineering, editing, mixing and mastering by Paul Coleman.
[June 2021]

orbit (n.):
The curved path of a celestial object or spacecraft round a star, planet, or moon, especially a periodic elliptical revolution.
(Oxford Dictionary)

orbit explores the gesture of circular motion in music and the juxtaposition of quick, cyclical motifs with slow, oscillating textures. Along with this idea of circular motion is the constant shift in timbre and colour, resulting in a sense of movement and energy in the music.

orbit (for mixed quintet) - Ensemble Signal / June in Buffalo

Ice And Obsidian

This piece is dedicated to my late grandfather, Wilfredo Acevedo, Sr., who was called home by the Lord this past winter. Grandpa was a godly man who gladly assumed sacrificial responsibility for all of his family, including me, as well as countless friends. He leaves behind a wife, four children, eleven grandchildren, and ten great-grandchildren.

The title "Already But Not Yet" is a phrase commonly used by Christian theologians to illustrate the current state of our world. We "already" live in the midst of the kingdom of heaven and, if we are Christians, with the gift of redemption and eternal life. But, at the same time, the world is "not yet" fully free of sin and death. That is, we still face such difficult providences as war, famine, natural disaster, and disease. This "living in the tension," as it's often called, is what I aim to evoke in this piece through a reflection on my grandfather's death.

Already But Not Yet

Recorded by the Stony Brook Symphony Orchestra on November 9, 2022; conducted by Alan Kay. Staller Center for the Arts, Stony Brook University. Soli Deo Gloria.

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Program Notes:

To plod is "to move or walk heavily or laboriously" or "to work or act perseveringly or monotonously." In any kind of art, it's tempting to wait until inspiration strikes before we get to work, but for most of us, this would mean that we accomplish little at all. Most days, we need to get up, keep our noses to the grindstone, and hope something happens that's worth keeping. This piece is a meditation on the commitment to plod along in whatever work we have in front of us. One step at a time, often a laborious step, is all we can do, but we must persevere in the pursuit of beauty.

Plod

Written for and premiered by TAK Ensemble. 

Recorded April, 2023.

When I started thinking about what this piece would be, my young nephew was going through a phase where he was asking all sorts of questions about reality: he wanted to know what was real and what wasn’t.

It made me think about how porous that border between the real and the imaginary is when you’re young. As a kid, for me, the negotiation between the two was complicated by the fact that I had depersonalization- derealization disorder where you have these prolonged episodes where you dissociate, and you essentially feel like you’re dreaming. At the time, I had no term for this, and no one around me did either. It could be a very lonely feeling — feeling like you’re off in your own strange reality.

Looking back what it made me realize is how important it is to have validation from others on our own perceptions. Reality only feels as real what other people will agree upon. What You Thought I Thought might be thought of as a strange sort of lullaby across time to my former self.

What You Thought I Thought

"Who Wants to Listen to That?" audacious artwork defies conventions, immersing visitors in a provocative exploration of sound. Chaos intertwines with playful creativity as polyrhythmic tape delays and experimental heavy-metal-free jazz collide.
The work’s mastery shines through Joy’s recording of multiphonic voices in the bassoon, TAK's audiovisual score performance, and live processing responses. Boundaries between electronics and acoustic elements crumble, revealing a daring sonic landscape.
Textures unfold and mutate, blending vicious attacks with ethereal drones from the resonating thunder tube and singing bowl. Perception is stretched to its limits as spatialization techniques engulf listeners in a multidimensional realm of rebellion.

Dynamic shifts guide visitors through hyperactive gestures and irreverent moments, evoking a sense of defiance and audacity. Long reverbs and precise delays create contrasting sonic environments, further amplifying the work's rebellious spirit.
"Who Wants to Listen to That?" embraces the audacious beauty of intangible sound, challenging norms and expectations. Prepare to be transported into an electrifying experience that defies conventions and ignites a rebellious spirit of sonic exploration.

Huge, huge thanks to Laura, Madison, Marina, Charlotte, Ellery, and Joy, whose patience, kindness, brilliance, friendship, and magical sounds made it possible. 

Big shoutout to Taylor Brooks, David Bird, David Adamcyk, and Murat Colak for the extra support! Let's celebrate the spirit of collaboration and the incredible power of artistic synergy. I am forever grateful for your invaluable contributions.

Who Wants To Listen To That

Written for the 2023 Bang on a Can Summer Festival

Premiered July 26, 2023 at MASS MoCA by Will Pyle (saxophone), Iwo Jedynecki (accordion), and Sam Zagnit (bass)

Recorded live by Jacob Ridderberg

Suspire is a brief meditation on the act of breathing. Built out of several simple dovetailing ‘inhale-exhale’ gestures, the piece moves gently up and down the ensemble’s range as its members fade in and out of one another. The piece was my first foray into writing for classical accordion, and to compose it, I allowed the action of the bellows to guide the shape and direction of its gestures and form.

Chamber Pieces

Suspire, for alto saxophone, accordion, and double bass

Completed September 11, 2023
Premiered by JACK Quartet in Taplin Auditorium, November 29, 2023

Written for JACK Quartet

The grisaille technique has always interested me for the challenges posed to its practitioners: the technique limits painters to monochromatic palettes. Beginning as underpainting for stained glass, grisaille eventually flourished as an entire form of its own in the 16th century. Today, art historians depict it as a singularly rigorous exercise that forced artists to more carefully consider their brushstrokes and composition in the absence of color. 

Many of my teachers spoke similarly about writing for string quartet: a practice that forced artists to write with economy and intention within a limited color palette. This piece, Panes of Grisaille, is a study in timbre, seeking to pull as much depth and energy from its homogeneous instrumentation as possible. The music leans heavily into sounds and tunings that are only possible on strings, ricocheting through as many techniques as possible while barreling forward with incessant momentum. 

I owe much thanks to the astounding musicians of JACK Quartet, to whom this piece is dedicated. I only dared write something so frankly demanding knowing it would be in their hands.

Panes of Grisaille, for string quartet

Read Oct. 29, 2019 by Jebat Kee and the Peabody Symphony Orchestra

Music, I believe, is essentially hopeful. Even the darkest and most inward pieces are born out of a hope that somebody somewhere will hear, listen, and understand.

Protests, too, are essentially hopeful. Those who struggle do so in the hope that somebody somewhere will see, hear, and understand.

I often find myself in some measure of awe at large-scale protests - people united by a hope for a future they believe to be both attainable and necessary. I was recently shown a collection of photos documenting the 1989 Tiananmen Square demonstrations, and was deeply moved by the emotion in people’s faces - blazing, youthful, resilient, their mouths frozen in the deafening silence of a soundless chant.

Anthem is about the growth of a nascent hope. The piece begins shimmering and unfocused, tinkly percussion and floaty gestures gently moving downward through an uncertain soundscape. Woodwinds beat against each other, gratingly out of tune as a searching string melody weaves its way upward through uneasy harmonies, faltering as it builds to its height. A lone vibraphone, quiet yet determined, introduces the primary motto of the piece. Though hesitant and rhythmically unsure, the motto spreads gradually through the orchestra before the searching melody returns and swells oppressively in grandeur and strength. As it reaches its peak, a powerful tutti rendition of the motto emerges, gathering in purpose and stability. The music then returns to the perspective of the opening, shimmering and unfocused. The motto reappears softly, as if from a great distance, inspiring the downward motion of the opening to take shape and solidify into a repeated chant of its own. Moving through the string melody’s uneasy harmonies, the new chant joins the main motto in powerful and insistent fashion. The piece ends on a muted note, a peaceful variant of the string melody surrounded by themes and motifs fragmented and ambiguous.

Random Stuff

Anthem, for symphony orchestra

Performed by re:Sound
16th Oct 2019 - Victoria Concert Hall, Singapore
Leader: Ike See

Commissioned by Resound Collective

Cover Art: "untitled" (2019) by Jonathan Lim  
Instagram: whereartjon
Email: jon.lim@live.com
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I. Prelude
II. Ceremonial
III. Rondo 
IV. March 
V. Passacaglia
VI. Moto Perpetuo

Stamford Raffles’ 1819 arrival in a fishing settlement then known as Singapura is inspiration for this work, which chronicles two centuries of triumph against the odds. The Suite reflects on pivotal moments in our history, and celebrates our indomitable spirit.

The Prelude opens with an undulating figure, upon which a simple, innocent melody is presented. This is the music of gentle surf lapping on the shores of white sand, of a tropical dawn at the break of a momentous day that will change the course of our island’s history forever. 

The arrival of the British is depicted in the Ceremonial. The strings proudly state the theme of the Suite (a literal-musical transcription of the eponymous digits): this proclamation is interspersed with punctuations by the winds. The movement concludes with a joyous re-statement of the 1-8-1-9 theme.

The next three movements are performed without break. In Rondo, different instruments feature concerto-style in a playful re-imagination of the multiplicity of cultures and ethnicities disembarking along the Singapore River. The fall of our country is depicted in March, before the instrumentation is drastically reduced in the next movement: a solo string quartet grieves over the increasing tumult of a string orchestra’s Passacaglia. 

The 1819 Suite concludes in a triumphant Moto Perpetuo - celebrating the past, and looking to the future.

1819 Suite For Small Orchestra

Composer currently pursuing PhD at The University of Pennsylvania. 
www.andrewburke.us

What You Thought I Thought

Andrew Burke

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