The death of my mentor and friend, Allan Schindler, on October 8th, 2018 hit me hard. From him I had learned not only technical skills and musical imagination. Allan taught me, by example, about artistic sincerity and the genuine expression of humanity through art (music that "makes you happy to be alive"). He also taught me how to be a teacher and and a mentor, how to support and encourage those around you to thrive.

Through the Door is a reflection of a memory of waiting outside Allan's ​office to meet with him for a lesson, hearing the strange sonorities emanating through the door from his piano, knowing these sounds were the root of some new piece he would later refine at the computer.

The piece is rooted in a brief passage from Allan's 1997 piece, Breath of Life, a moment early-on where we hear the child's breath for the first time. This moment begins Through the Door, followed by the sound of Allan's inhale (taken from an interview of him speaking about his own work) and my own consequent exhale, leading to a series of labored breaths I recorded of myself soon after hearing of Allan's passing.

The piece was written for a memorial concert featuring primarily Allan's own music. the 2:00 duration was by request, as so many students and colleagues had offered dedicatory works.

https://gregwilder.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Allan-Schindler-Memorial-Concert-Program.pdf

Through The Door

Brief introduction piece at Bleep Salon (Tom Bruce et al, Feb 2019), a long-neglected upload. Bowed cymbals, gate spring resonators, kacapi, laptop/SuperCollider.

Bleep Salon, introduction

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나의 클레마티스 (My Clematis) Instrumental (Alien Stage OST)

Yale Philharmonia, Paolo Bartolameolli, conductor

The Rule and Exercises of Holy Dying (2012), III. Passacaglia (excerpt)

Până Când Nu Te Iubeam (Until I Don’t Love You) depicts the narrator's Dor (longing) for a separated loved one. I have recontextualized this Romanian folk song to become a  conversation between the first generation immigrants in a new land and every ancestor that came before. Those who have left feel regret; the homeland reminds them that from its soil their ancestors drew nourishment and strength. Within this soil their ancestors were put to rest. This soil–which they carry within them–will never leave them.
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English Translation:							        Original Romanian Text:

Until I don't love you                                                                                   Până când nu te iubeam
Yearning, Longing                                                                                                  	Dorule, dorule 
Where I rested, where I slept                                                                 Unde mă culcam, dormeam
Yearning, longing									Dorule, dorule

But now that I love you,                                                                                  Dar acum că te iubesc
I can not find ease                                                                                          Nu pot să mă odihnesc

I left home with haste                                                                                     Ies din casă să mă duc
Now I don't know where to begin                                                                   Nu știu încotro s-apuc

I am freezing as the flames swallow me                                                     Arz, mă frig în mare foc
I wonder why I didn’t wait for you                                                            N'am astâmpăr la un loc  

My poor heart                                                                                                        Săraca inima mea
I can no longer touch you                                                                                Te ating, nu se mai ia

Don’t cry my love, (Little one don’t wet your eyes)                                     Nu plange, iubita mea, 
Don’t cry precious, (Little one don’t cry)                                                            Scumpi nu plange,
Everyone is with you (The soil we tilled your body is comprised)          Toate Lumea este cu tine,
The land lives in you (The land lives on in your blood)                                   Patria traiasca-n tine.

								-text translated by the composer
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Giovanna Spiotti, mezzo feature|Wen Wen Van Der Wende, soprano|Ram Tysoe, tenor| Kelly Gembara, violin| Davis Martin,piano

Până Când Nu Te Iubeam

Music by Xingzimin PAN
Text by Yang CHEN
Performed by South China Normal University
Conducted by Yanhui SU

Text:
等风来 等雨来
我在路上
等明天到来

数悲欢 百千度
星河高悬
即使道远日暮

梦里听见
你离去的脚步
回首已是
寂寂山河满目
	
是谁在云端
种下了一棵树
挂上你的名字
和万千祝福

雨会来 风会来
春日珊珊
守我恩慈满怀

此生铭记
这条漫漫长路

(A Very Rough) English Translation:

Waiting for the wind, waiting for the rain
I'm on my way
Waiting for tomorrow

Counting the sorrows and the joys a thousand times
The river of stars are high
Even when the road is far and the sun is gone

I hear in my dreams
Your footsteps are leaving
When I look back
The world devastated
	
Who planted a tree in the clouds?
With your name on it
and a thousand blessings

The rain will come, the wind will come
Spring will come
I'll be blessed with kindness

I'll remember this long, long road for the rest of my life
This long, long road

PATH 路 - SATB A Cappella - Xingzimin PAN 潘行紫旻 (2021)

Object over Body is about my non-linear recovery from emotional abuse. However, to cheer myself up, the piece is programmatic and features the adventures of a despondent flower pot who ruminates on becoming human, grows legs, and learns that it is still powerless to do anything but run. The first movement, “I have no hands,” focuses on the first of these events where the flower pot, fueled solely by confusing and visceral emotions, has yet to grow limbs. The second movement, “growing pains/becoming bone,” is when the flower pot actually begins to develop physical agency. It grows legs and runs around in excitement. In the third movement, “Winded,” emotions catch up to the flower pot and it becomes overwhelmed. 

Premiered by Momenta Quartet at Binghamton University in 2024 and 2025. 

Object over Body: III. Winded

Modern Medieval Trio

Quéjase de la suerte

Performed by:
Grace Mittleman, Soprano
Samantha Norman, Alto
Matthew Bridgeman, Tenor
Sawyer Harrington-Verb, Bass
Dawson Atkin, Synthesizer,
CJ Diogaurdi, Sound Design

Pilgrimage

I'm Not On Your Vacation  I. Tourist Season

Thompson Street Opera
February 5 & 6, 2021

these wings are meant to fly (2019)

these wings are meant to fly

Wen Wen Van Der Wende (They/He) is a queer, Chinese-American composer, vocalist, and multimedia artist whose music conveys both visceral turmoil and a love for the natural world. A devotee of unconventional beauty, they balance brightly-colored destruction with a grounded sense of sincerity. Recent projects include “a tired sun” for double choir, the purple-splattered, electroacoustic nightmare “veronica,” and Amy’s Third Most Emotionally-Distressed Roommate, an experimental breakup album. Wen Wen is the founder and co-organizer of an LGBT+ concert series hosted at The Hartt School, University of Hartford. When not composing, they like to analyze popular media, crochet ugly sweaters, and converse with their menagerie of adorable, oddly-named plushies.