Southern Bodies World Premiere // Kit Downes

“Music, for me, is a lot about intention and being present in the moment — how people deal with the moment together.”

— Kit Downes

By Liquid Music blog contributor Amy Chatelaine

Photo courtesy of the artist

The sounds emitted from Northrop’s historic Aeolian-Skinner Opus 892 often and readily cluster into constellations familiar to the pipe organ; in the hands of master-keyboardist Kit Downes, they are more likely to venture into the infinite unknown, beckoning the imagination up, out, and beyond. When the house lights go down, the stops are pulled, and wind rushes through the grove of pipes, a listening audience will find themselves swept up in the “boundless musical curiosity” so defining of the man recognized as a premiere British talent throughout the United Kingdom. 

Kit’s upcoming performance at Minneapolis’s Northrop Auditorium is the world premiere of his latest endeavor, Southern Bodies. For such an occasion, the luminary jazz guitarist Bill Frisell will share the stage. We, along with Kit, couldn’t be more elated — and it continues. In the interweaving of their distinct timbres, Kit and Bill will be joined by members of the prestigious Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra: Eunice Kim (violin), Daniel Orsen (viola), and Richard Belcher (cello). 

Southern Bodies is copresented by Liquid Music and Northrop. You can secure your tickets for what is sure to be an unforgettable evening right here. 

We are grateful to Kit for the reflections offered below, a small window into the upcoming performance for a curious audience.

A Q&A with Kit Downes

The world premiere of Southern Bodies is coming right on the tails of another release, Breaking the Shell, another exciting collaboration with Bill Frisell. How did your musical relationship with Bill begin? 

Reflections from Kit Downes, Bill Frisell, and Andrew Cyrille at the release of Breaking the Shell (September 26, 2024)

Kit Downes: Breaking the Shell came about through the producer Sun Chung, whom Bill, Andrew [Cyrille], and I had all worked with separately for ECM. He set it up, and I was lucky to be involved! Like millions of other fans, I have been listening to Bill’s playing and composing since I was very young. He is a huge part of how I think about music; it’s hard to understate what an impact his music had on me. So getting to play with him on that recording, and for this concert, makes my head spin. It’s like hearing my own childhood memories coming from the stage in real-time — it’s unbelievable. I feel so lucky to be able to share some music with him. 

Liquid Music is recognized as a laboratory for artists across genres, with an interest in nurturing bold ideas from composers and performing artists. Certainly the pipe organ and guitar are less conventional conversation partners! What would you say has been nurtured by taking the imaginative risk of that collaboration? 

Left: Kit Downes, photo courtesy of the artist | Right: Bill Frisell, photo by Monica Frisell

Downes: Instrumentation is an important factor for sure when making new music, but not the only one, or even the biggest one, I think. Music for me is a lot about intention and being present in the moment — how people deal with the moment together. This can happen on any combination of instruments and still be interesting. Of course the instrument choices add detail to the puzzle, and a strong context, but for me it’s about the people involved, and what they want to say and how they communicate as a group.

Of the many distinctive qualities of the pipe organ, one is that it’s site-specific — requiring a process of acquaintance for you, both of the instrument and the space. What are you anticipating with Northrop’s Aeolian-Skinner organ, and the space that holds it?

Downes: I’m familiar with the make of organ, having played one in the US before. I remember the balance and style of the instrument in general, although this instrument will have its own specifities and nuances, I’m sure. The space is the big unknown factor for me, and also the music itself — as much of it is brand new, as is the ensemble itself!

You’ve shared that Southern Bodies is, at least in part, a reference to the stars of the Southern Hemisphere. The celestial is also present in some of your past work — Light from Old Stars, as an early example. Is there an affinity, or curiosity for you there? What has it offered to your musicianship, if anything?

Downes: I tend to pick titles that touch on a few different things simultaneously that are going on — chance encounters and recurrent themes, both. They often are quite arbitrary anyway! One thing I would say about the night sky is that it’s this huge constant cosmic companion, wherever you are in the world — especially if you befriend it, learn some of its constellations. The familiarity of it helps me feel less alone when I am far away. 

Your sound has been described as at once “ethereal” and “earthy” — polarities that hold in common an elemental quality as a reference point. I’ve enjoyed reading reflections on the role of landscape throughout your work — with Obsidian, for example, and “Kasei Valles” on Breaking the Shell. Would you say that’s a particular access point for you as you explore the sounds and textures of your work?

Downes: That’s such a nice observation, I never thought of it. I guess I was always drawn to old traditional music because of this connection with nature, somehow. Something folk-ish, that anyone can appreciate, or that can be reinterpreted and relived a thousands different ways over a very long period — also like natural processes. It can be a mutual point that people with different ways of seeing things can take off from.

What is something outside of music that is animating you right now, that is life-giving?

Downes: Raising my daughter, definitely — I see everything differently now.

---

Follow Kit Downes:
Website: www.kitdownesmusic.com
Instagram: @kitdownesmusic (instagram.com/kitdownesmusic)

Follow Bill Frisell:
Website: www.billfrisell.com
Instagram: @bill.frisell (instagram.com/bill.frisell)

Follow The St. Paul Chamber Orchestra:
Website: www.thespco.org
Instagram: @thespco (instagram.com/thespco)

Follow Liquid Music for updates and announcements:
Instagram: @LiquidMusicSeries (instagram.com/liquidmusicseries)
Facebook: facebook.com/LiquidMusicSeries
Newsletter: liquidmusic.org/newsletter

Liquid Music at Chaillot // Emily Wells x Dimitri Chamblas

“Liquid Music is thinking more broadly about where, why, and with what partnerships to mount a project. What, in the world, is any given project calling for?” – Kate Nordstrum

Emily Wells performs Regards to the End | Photo: Karlie Efinger / Scott Carr

By Liquid Music blog contributor Amy Chatelaine

This week, Liquid Music arrives in the lustrous heart of Paris. Ours is one pulse in the company of performances animating the upcoming Chaillot Expérience, at the invitation of the visionary choreographer Dimitri Chamblas. Over four days, Chamblas will spotlight his current projects, collaborations, and ongoing partnerships.

With a kindred appreciation for the generative valence of movement and sound, Chamblas asked Liquid Music’s Kate Nordstrum to select a performing artist to fill the foyer of the historic Théâtre National de Chaillot. And we are delighted to have Emily Wells – polymathic composer, producer, and video artist – with us for this very special international venture.

But first:

Kate, Dimitri, and Emily trace the confluence of their pathways to the temple of dance in the city of light — a story told in three movements.

I.
Liquid Music x Studio Dimitri Chamblas:
“An artistic conversation that’s only just begun”

Kate Nordstrum reflects on the origins of the ever-developing creative partnership between Studio Dimitri Chamblas and Liquid Music:

I was introduced to Dimitri in 2018 through Ben Johnson, who was then the Director of Performing Arts for the city of Los Angeles (now Director of Arts for the city of Minneapolis). Ben knew that Dimitri had begun collaborating informally with Kim Gordon [Sonic Youth co-founder] and thought that might be something I'd be interested in for Liquid Music. I was working part-time with the Los Angeles Philharmonic that year, planning their centennial season Fluxus Festival (2018-19), so there were opportunities to meet a number of times without agenda in the beginning. I wanted to learn about Dimitri's work and vision, and we found we shared artistic priorities. I was very inspired by Dimitri's energy and spirit of "anything is possible."

Kate Nordstrum outside of Los Angeles at a shooting range, creating the score for Dick Higgins' The 1000 Symphonies in preparation for a Fluxus Festival event. As part of the festival, Kate would hire Dimitri to direct David Lang's crowd out for 1000 voices.

Kim Gordon, Kate Nordstrum, Dimitri Chamblas 

Both Dimitri and I have brought each other into our individual opportunities as curators and producers over the last six years. I feel challenged by our dialogue, and honored to be seen and valued by a colleague I admire so much — and sometimes even feel jealous of! Knowing ours is a long-term relationship is probably the most rewarding aspect. This is an artistic conversation that's only just begun.

II.
Chaillot Expérience:
An invitation to “the temple of dance”

Théâtre National de Chaillot | © Patrick Berger

Dimitri Chamblas shares the context of his work with Chaillot, and the theater’s historical significance in France:

Chaillot Expérience was proposed to me, as Palais de Chaillot does for maybe four or five artists every year. Palais de Chaillot in Paris — that's “the temple of dance,” right in front of the Eiffel Tower — it’s this big, amazing building with a program of such incredible curation. Historically, it was the théâtre populaire, which means “the theater for everyone.” And now it's the théâtre de la danse — still totally “populaire,” of course, but with an emphasis on dance as an art form, as a practice.

For Chaillot Expérience, I wanted to start the thinking in relation with my piece takemehome, which I'm showing the whole week in Chaillot. Basically, I wanted to continue exploring new possibilities of the relationships between moving bodies and sounds and music. That’s the whole curation of Chaillot Expérience. There's a workshop for 30 electric guitars. There's a participatory voice piece. There are different performances of dancers and musicians. There's music curation. There's a lot, a lot, a lot of things happening until late in the night. And then from the Palais de Chaillot, it will move to a nightclub to keep continuing — having a different type, though, of relation with moving bodies and music!

Dimitri Chamblas

“I feel very close, in my relationship with dance, to what Liquid Music is standing for: exploring different forms, approaching music in relation to other arts, and presenting in different types of spaces to give access to a large diversity of audience.”

— Dimitri Chamblas

The idea of inviting Liquid Music, inviting Kate, to come and participate is, for me, an invitation to collaborate around this topic — sharing ideas and giving her the possibility to invite an artist to be part of that. She proposed Emily Wells, who I discovered because of Kate. And of course I really loved her music, but also its relation with moving images and archival dance film. And also, I would say, some of the history of dance that she invites in the space of her live performance. So, yeah, I can't wait to have Liquid Music in Paris, and Kate and Emily.

I feel very close, in my relationship with dance, to what Liquid Music is standing for: exploring different forms, approaching music in relation to other arts, and presenting in different types of spaces to give access to a large diversity of audience. All of those goals and values are shared between myself and Liquid Music through Kate's leadership.

III.
Regards to the End:
A centering moment in the “beating heart” of Chaillot

Kate Nordstrum shares what inspired her pick of Regards to the End as Liquid Music’s feature in the Chaillot Expérience:

Regards to the End is an ever-evolving, magical piece of art by Emily Wells that Liquid Music has actively supported over the years. I wanted to deliver something that could bring big feelings into a large space full of bodies — a centering moment in the grand Foyer de la Dance, the "beating heart" of the building. I thought about Emily's brilliant use of archival dance films in her set, interwoven with images of early AIDS activism and extreme climate events, that stun and move viewers in inarticulable ways. Emily's music and visuals enliven the senses and bring people together in body and spirit. Her love of dance and awareness of how music moves in and through the body make her a beautiful fit for Dimitri's Chaillot Expérience.

Photo by Jay Mehal Britter

“Emily’s music and visuals enliven the senses and bring people together in body and spirit.”

— Kate Nordstrum

Emily Wells offers an intimate look into the life and movements of Regards to the End:

Music, or rather writing music, is a way for me to think, to explore literature, theory, visual art, and then respond through my most sentient language. I think about the climate crisis a lot: it’s at the foundation of life decisions, of worry, of grief. And in wrestling with this presence in my life, I looked for analogs from the past. That’s where I started to find links with the early AIDS crisis — the denial, bureaucracy, enormity, scapegoating of the weak — but those connections were just the door to what became Regards to the End.

I started reading a lot about climate crisis and the AIDS crisis. Then the pandemic descended, and I realized that I needed to expand the scope of my research, that “one cannot survive on terror alone.” So I turned to the people I knew best how to learn from: artists. I fell into their most sentient languages as a way to learn the muscle for myself: the muscle of survival in crisis, the absurd ability to hope and adapt that is innate in the process of making art.

Regards is a relic of that hope and survival. I hope it points to these teachers who, through their work, left us road maps for dealing with enormous unthinkable suffering and complicated togetherness. Their desire for beauty, joy, spontaneity, and most of all each other, was not snuffed out. That gives me courage.

Bringing Regards to Paris

Part of the excitement for me around the coming performance in Paris is the chance to be swept into a larger vision and community of makers. My performances tend to be quite meticulous in their planning and their engagement with the technology I employ. For Chaillot, I’ve tried to give myself a looser leash — and in that, to make way for improvisation and collaboration, including an invitation to Darian Donovan Thomas to sing with me on a few songs.

I started incorporating dance into my video work as a way to be less lonely on stage, and it’s grown into a deep relationship with the form and its history, as well as with choreographers — specifically with my frequent collaborator and friend, Raja Feather Kelly. I also became interested in the way footage of dance, documentations of activism, and captured moments of extreme climate events are linked; something about the way the bodies move in tandem, in reaction, and with tremendous agency, feels like shared language. Projecting these images while I play is a way to extend meaning, and to make more room for the immense emotional selfhood of each individual present.

Photo by Amber Tamblyn

One thing I've learned is that there is a desire, a need, for real human proximity — and that music can help facilitate that. Also, that people in a room together have a power that cannot be simulated. And that making work is in itself a belief in the future.

A few things for climate activism inspired by the early AIDS activists: we have to be talking about it, not mired or alone in fear, and we have to be loud and specific about what we want and need. Significantly, they knew how to inject their protests with both humor and poignancy.

I wish I could say I’ve had some clear epiphany about the future and how to proceed in it through my time sharing Regards. I think I still have more to learn, and more honestly, more to act on. But the one thing I’m certain of: it’s going to take a lot of us to make anything move.

---

Follow Dimitri Chamblas:
Website: www.dimitrichamblas.com
Instagram: @dimitrischamblas (instagram.com/dimitrichamblas)

Follow Emily Wells:
Website: www.emilywellsmusic.com
Instagram: @emilywellsmusic (instagram.com/emilywellsmusic)
Spotify: Emily Wells

Follow Liquid Music for updates and announcements:
Instagram: @LiquidMusicSeries (instagram.com/liquidmusicseries)
 Facebook: facebook.com/LiquidMusicSeries
Newsletter: liquidmusic.org/newsletter

The Conversations That Make a Voice // Josh Johnson

By Liquid Music blog contributor Amy Chatelaine

Photo by Robbie Jeffers

What a curious play of perception, how readily the ear can mistake the vibration of wood or the push of breath through brass for the human voice. Some argue the cello most closely mimics our particular timbre; others stand fervently for the French horn. For composer, multi-instrumentalist, and Grammy Award-winning producer Josh Johnson, it was the saxophone whose likeness called to him from an early age, and would draw him into a vibrant array of reed-mediated conversations for years to come. A prolific collaborator, you can hear Josh in the company of Jeff Parker, Meschell Ndegeocello, Marquis Hill, Harry Styles, Broken Bells, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers (check out his full discography if you relish a divergence of discoveries and surprise encounters). He also served as musical director for Leon Bridges from 2018 to 2022.

In recent years, Josh has achieved two albums as a solo artist. His latest, Unusual Object, will be the parlance of his Minneapolis debut. And if you’ve yet to spend an evening nestled amidst the islands of velvet and light at Berlin, let this be your introduction to the North Loop’s oasis for jazz and delectable company. Find your tickets here for Josh’s September 27th performance, co-presented by Liquid Music and Berlin.

Berlin | Minneapolis, MN (Photo by Isabel Subtil)

But as you’ll read below, Josh takes the category of “solo album” and turns it into a question, one central to the composition of Unusual Object. 

Perhaps the singularity of Josh Johnson is, paradoxically, a voice that both holds and invites conversation with multiple (and yes, sometimes unusual) others. To be present to his sound is to join a broader consideration of the voices we lean toward, and those that might repel — to an effect that inspires you to keep in the dialogue. It is an invitation to be part of an audience whose attention brings questions like, What feels familiar, and why? And, What feels jarring, and why? And then perhaps, What happens next?

We hope to meet you there. In the meantime, for your eavesdropping pleasure, a conversation with Josh Johnson:

Photo by Robbie Jeffers

This interview took place on August 16, 2024, and has been edited for clarity and conciseness.

Amy Chatelaine: This will be your Minneapolis debut as a solo performing artist. You’re currently based in LA, but from the Midwest originally, is that right? 

Josh Johnson: Yeah. So I was born in Maryland, but when I was pretty young, we moved to Illinois, about an hour from Chicago. That's where I grew up. 

Chatelaine: What do you remember about your earliest draw to the saxophone? And what was going on in your life at that time that specifically sparked a connection with jazz?

Johnson: Well, I started on piano first when I was a bit younger — I don't know if it’s in fifth or sixth grade where, in band, you get to pick an instrument. And actually, saxophone wasn't my first choice initially; it was drums. But there was something about saxophone I connected with. I don't know that I would have articulated it this way at 10, but it felt like the saxophone could be like the human voice.

More specifically, a year or two into playing I had asked my parents for Christmas for some recordings of people playing the saxophone, and they went out and bought four or five CDs, different stuff. There was one in particular that I really connected with, this compilation of recordings of the tenor saxophone. And I remember thinking, even at that age, it sounds like somebody's speaking to me, like I'm hearing someone's voice. And I think that ignited something in me. I felt a connection to that possibility of, wow, through an instrument you can speak to somebody in a literal way. It just captured me. It had this swagger and this freedom, but also a singular method of expression that I really connected with.

Josh Johnson performs "Marvis" (listen in full)

Chatelaine: As a highly sought-after collaborator, much of your musical career has been very conversational. And in the past few years, you've achieved two solo projects, Unusual Object the most recent. You’re quoted in the release by Northern Spy Records, describing this project as “a development and documentation of a more personal world of sound” after time spent further sharpening your own compositional voice. Would you say the conversational nature of collaboration played a particular role in finding your singular voice as a solo artist?

Johnson: Absolutely. I feel very lucky to be trusted often with other people's music. One of the things I love about collaborating is getting insight into how other people experience the world and hear and see. It allows me to access, or get to consider, different perspectives — and all of that from so many different sources. It has helped me zero in on what speaks to me, and to expand the things that I see. 

I take a lot of lessons from other people and get to be like, What's it like to explore this in my own world? For every person, there are certain things that are really flexible, and certain things that are rigid. And it's really different in every context. I'm often encouraged in collaboration by seeing places where I maybe have been less flexible but somebody else is very flexible, and it encourages me to explore that within my own sonic world. 

Collaboration has offered me a space to develop a lot of my ideas as well. A big one, and maybe an important influence leading to Unusual Object, is playing with Jeff Parker. Specifically, there's a band called the ETA Quartet, which improvised together for many, many years. I've been interested in electronics, but I really got an opportunity to explore that solely through improvisation in shared space with Jeff and Anna [Butterss] and Jay [Bellerose]. A lot of the things I found through improvising with all this stuff in real time. Over time I started to catalog, to accumulate a palette. And as I got closer to considering what my next record was going to be, I had the feeling of, I've gotten to explore and connect with all these sounds, but what's it like to now try to put a frame around it, to design the architecture myself?

Chatelaine: It strikes me that there’s a significance to improv being inherent to that process. The search for one’s unique creative voice can sometimes become overly earnest, or stressful in some ways. But improv by nature feels so permissive and playful, and just a good spirit to go on. 

“ I think that [playfulness] comes as a byproduct of authenticity, or just being honest and attentive to the things that you’re drawn towards, the things that move you.”

— Josh Johnson

Johnson: Yeah, the exploration with play is completely important to my practice and just my existence since, both in and outside of music. I think that comes as a byproduct of authenticity, or just being honest and attentive to the things that you're drawn towards, the things that move you.

Chatelaine: Does that come naturally to you, that playfulness? Or is it something you've cultivated over time?

Johnson: That's a good question. When I got into music that was present, definitely. But I think somewhere in the midst of the study of music it got lost a little bit. I think that can happen, I feel like I have many friends and collaborators who've experienced something similar. I had to relearn or reengage with that playfulness and understand it as a strength, that it's actually foundational to my experiences with music.

Chatelaine: How do you go about continuing to cultivate that, or returning to it when it feels like it's gone out of reach?

Johnson: Especially in improvisation, one way that I try to reconnect to that is by allowing myself to get lost. It pushes me into a sort of problem solving and attentive state. So for me, part of that practice in music is getting lost, or trying to get lost, because that forces me to find a creative way back. It’s almost like it gives me something to react and respond to. And it has to be playful by nature. It's like, Okay, how do I get out of this? Or, How do I make it back? What's the creative pathway I can find back to wherever it is trying to get to? 

“For me, part of that practice in music is getting lost, or trying to get lost, because that forces me to find a creative way back.”

— Josh Johnson

It took me a while to, maybe it seems simple, but to understand that you can be serious about the work and about the art, but you don't have to take it too seriously. I've had some examples, mentors for me who — I think I took a while to understand the beauty and having both of those things. A certain amount of play suggests a comfortability or a confidence in your ability to navigate something. 

When I'm collaborating with or improvising with other people, sometimes that looks like in the moment really choosing to redirect my attention. It might be that I want everything I play to be in conversation with the bass drum for a little bit, or something that just gives me a different access point to creativity.

Chatelaine: You mentioned you've had several mentors that you look to that really lift up and dignify the role of playfulness. Who are some of those mentors for you?

Johnson: Yeah, I moved to California for a master’s fellowship program — it was more like direct mentorship, and one of the people that I was most excited about spending time with was Wayne Shorter, who recently passed. To me, he was somebody who really embodied that sense of play, and with so much depth and deep feeling. If you care to zoom in and get analytical, there's so much to be excavated. But even with all that depth, there always was a sense of play and a sense of humor. It's almost like it had the ability to make all of the colors more complex. Or it's like adding texture to color, or something like that. 

And in the time I got to spend with him, so many of the lessons and directions didn't utilize musical language. They'd be like, What's it like for you to improvise as if you're this actor playing this role? What's it like to pretend you don't know how to play? All these, not always just prompts, but things that encouraged play and encouraged me to zoom out in a way that still gives access to all these things, but also another doorway and one that might actually have the ability to expand what it is that I’m trying to do. It’s playing music that's influenced by so many other things besides music.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Josh Johnson (@joshuaajohn)

Chatelaine: Turning to Unusual Object now, what were some of the things you were in conversation with when composing that album? Or is there a particular conversation you feel it's having on its own?

Johnson: Yeah, maybe some of both. One question initially it was, What is a solo album? There's a rich tradition of solo saxophone albums, maybe trending towards the avant garde. But the contemplation of that, and just asking myself, What does that really mean? and trying to come to a definition of my own was less instrument specific, but more about inputs. Whereas I do a lot of collaboration, this contrasted in being this one input — and that can be saxophone, that can be electronics, that can be synthesizer, but it's really just one source. And that to me is a version of a solo album — one that is maybe explored more in vocal music, but in instrumental music, I don't know that there’s the same framework. Or often, if there is a framework for a solo album, many times its goal is to demonstrate virtuosity on an instrument specifically. That was not for me; I was interested in not being that.

In terms of being in conversation with other things, there's quite a lot in there. I think I'm interested in poking at genre and asking, What? Why? Why we have a need for it, and who stands to gain from genre, to fit things into a frame, perhaps. [Unusual Object] is in conversation with some things specific to jazz, some stuff specific to electronic music. And also blending it all together, and blurring the lines. I feel really interested in the stuff on the margins and the ways in which when you reach the limits of something, stuff that's unexpected happens. You can also utilize that as a tool and develop a voice on the margins, and often that might lead you to something that is really personal and unique.

Chatelaine: And maybe gaining a hearing for other voices there, too. 

Johnson: Mmm.

Chatelaine: There was an interview you gave back in 2020 that described your creative vision as being “equally parts fresh and familiar.” And then, “homey without ever being comfortable.” How do you think about holding those two experiences together? And when did that become important for you?

Johnson: I think it's always been important to me, or I've experienced so much music that way. Music has been an entry point or a catalyst to so many thoughts and conversations outside of music. And there's been so much music that's encouraged me and made me believe we can imagine something better than what we already have and what we know.

“There’s a lot in the world in this moment that seeks to make things flat and one dimensional. I’m interested in participating in, and trying to create experiences that encourage us to reconnect with the fact that there’s so much more color.”

— Josh Johnson

I'm interested in opening a door to a space for somebody, less than dictating an experience. But I believe that people want to feel things deeply. And I think we have a need for that, even if when we put on music that's not always what we think we're doing it for. I’m interested in creating a space that’s hard to define. Not out of trying to push people away, but that has layers in a way that reflects humanity. Maybe that sounds grandiose, but in ways that — I don't know how to describe this exactly, but that's very much the experience of being a human, you know? There's a lot in the world in this moment that seeks to make things flat and one dimensional. I'm interested in participating in, and trying to create experiences that encourage us to reconnect with the fact that there's so much more color.

Chatelaine: This has been such a lovely conversation, Josh, thank you. As we draw to a close, what are some things outside of music that are animating you right now, that are life-giving?

Johnson: So this is hobby-world, but mending clothing is an interest of mine. I’ve been interested in things and practices that encourage me to slow down and pay attention, because there’s so much that is doing the opposite, you know? And I can feel the effects on my attention span. I love sitting with something, and just using my hands, and engaging all of my senses. 

Also, increasingly I find myself drawn to poetry for small bites of beauty. That’s something that’s been energizing me and lifting me up. I have a few different collections around the house, but I have a little book next to my bed, and I’ve been trying to — not always succeeding — but instead of reaching for the phone the first thing in the morning, what if I experience something beautiful, and that’s the way my day starts? 

Photo by Robbie Jeffers

Follow Josh Johnson:
Website: joshjohnsonmusic.com
Instagram: @joshuaajohn (instagram.com/joshuaajohn)

Follow Liquid Music for updates and announcements:
Instagram: @LiquidMusicSeries (instagram.com/liquidmusicseries)
Facebook: facebook.com/LiquidMusicSeries
Newsletter: liquidmusic.org/newsletter

Terminal Habitat Collapse // Trever Hagen x Josh Berg

A Point of Entry

By Liquid Music blog contributor Amy Chatelaine

We are at the doorway of our 2024 Fall Season of Liquid Music, about to step out onto a vast plain of fresh performances — discovering new entry points along the way in the space between movement and sound, time and place, audience and performing artist. We begin with Trever Hagen (composer, performer, writer) and Josh Berg (producer, engineer), in their presentation of Terminal Habitat Collapse.

In these first days of September, Hagen and Berg are together in Minneapolis for a Northrop artist residency to endeavor this new collaborative project, an idea that took root in early 2024. Terminal Habitat Collapse presents a sonic narration of the Anthropocene, creating an “immersive soundscape of ecological change” through engagement with quadraphonic sound. 

You can experience this work-in-development as a special feature of the Northrop Open House on September 12, copresented by Liquid Music. Come take this first step with us into the new season, and roam the halls of Northrop for a rare look behind-the-scenes of a local gem in the Minneapolis arts community (full schedule here). 

Left: Trever Hagen (Photo by Graham Tolbert). Right: Josh Berg (Photo courtesy of the artist).

Hagen and Berg offered a short introduction to Terminal Habitat Collapse, sharing these words ahead of their departure to Minneapolis:

pre-residency Q&A with Trever Hagen + Josh Berg

How did the two of you come to work together on this project?

Trever Hagen: We first met in Berlin in 2016 as part of the first PEOPLE festival and have been collaborating on various collective projects since then. In Spring 2024, I attended a quadraphonic ensemble in LA that Josh had recommended me check out and, after discussing, we decided to put our heads and hearts together to create a new piece. We combined my interest in “new pastoralism” with Josh’s experiments in quad under the idea of Terminal Habitat Collapse.

Josh, you’ve worked with a range of performing artists, from Ye to Bon Iver to the late Mac Miller. How would you describe your role in creative production?

Josh Berg: My role is: CREATE SPACE TO CREATE. In order to facilitate the work, I discover what the artists need and implement the process. This always involves technical work but it also engages a sympathetic understanding where I can see the artists’ vision and make sure that they have a clear path to get there.

What exactly is quadraphonic sound? 

Berg: Sound coming from four discrete sources. Think of four perfectly spaced dots along a circle. Solstice and equinox. This overlays perfectly with our natural experience of the four corners of a room making quad the simplest representation of how we actually experience the world sonically.

What was the draw to pastoralism as an aesthetic framework — one you’re renovating in Terminal Habitat Collapse? 

Hagen: Pastoralism represents a nexus of aesthetics and ecology formed by the human gaze. It’s seemingly what human culture wants nature to be at some level: bucolic, placid but submissive, dominated. A couple summers ago I was canoeing in the Boundary Waters thinking about pastoral landscapes as I looked at the sunrise on a lake. Along with that sunrise there was also a haze from the Canadian wildfires. In that moment pastoralism felt ridiculous in the hubris of human activity and in the face of what is arguably a new sense of the pastoral: whole towns burning (e.g. Lahaina, HI), rising sea levels displacing people (e.g. Tuvalu), waterways that poison those who drink it (e.g. Flint, MI). This is the pastoral now. This is what nature is becoming for humans in the short term, with the long term conclusion being terminal habitat collapse for our species. So “new pastoralism” is simply an aesthetic perspective or set of sensory materials that aims to shine the light on the relationship between nature and humans as we know it at the beginning of the 21st century. 

What will be unique about the audience experience of this performance?

Berg: For most it will be to actually experience a piece written in and for quadraphonic sound. We defy the idea that you “look at” a performance and rather invite the audience into the circle, literally. We also reframe the understanding of where we are going as a species by offering a less ambiguous term to describe our destination and sonically narrating the journey.

Hagen: As Josh noted, I think listeners have a lot of agency in quadraphonic performances in that you are invited into the performance. The outcome or the performance may be less determined, this way — almost like a happening.

Experience the performance at the 2024 Northrop Open House
Copresented by Liquid Music
Thursday, September 12 | 4:30–5:00 pm
Northrop Rehearsal Studio (Ground Level, East)
Free and open to the public

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Follow Trever Hagen:
Website: treverhagen.com
Instagram: @t.r.e.v.r (instagram.com/t.r.e.v.r)

Follow Josh Berg:
Website: infinitevibrationtechnology.com
Instagram: @love_burg (instagram.com/love_burg)

Follow Liquid Music for updates and announcements:
Instagram: @LiquidMusicSeries (instagram.com/liquidmusicseries)
Facebook: facebook.com/LiquidMusicSeries
Newsletter: liquidmusic.org/newsletter

Sounds Continue to Migrate: A Conversation with Moor Mother

“I believe it’s all one continual story, one continuous moment, vibrating at different frequencies.”
– Camae Ayewa (Moor Mother)

Moor Mother (Photo: Ebru Yildiz)

Experience Moor Mother's The Great Bailout on September 14 at the Walker Art Center, presented in partnership with Liquid Music. Find your tickets here.

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An excerpted conversation between Camae Ayewa and her collaborator Brandon Stosuy, published in full at walkerart.org:

Camae Ayewa, who performs as Moor Mother, is a poet, visual artist, touring musician, and professor of Composition at the University of Southern California Thornton School of Music.

Her recent large-scale work, The Great Bailout, uses as its starting point the United Kingdom’s 1837 Slave Compensation Act, which gave tax bailouts to former slave owners, but nothing to the liberated people. The resulting unwavering sonic meditation—dark, powerful, deeply political and personal—is a nonlinear word map that charts connections across colonialism, slavery, and commerce in Great Britain, along with its modern parallels in the United States.

Ayewa released The Great Bailout as a proper album in March of 2024. It was followed a few months later by an expanded edition, which included earlier versions of the pieces recorded with the London Contemporary Orchestra. The upcoming site-specific Walker performance of The Great Bailout is the first large-scale presentation of the project in the United States.

Brandon Stosuy: I’ve seen you perform dozens of times, and you never do the same show twice. Over the years, as you’ve worked more with classical music and in large-scale institutions like Lincoln Center and Carnegie Hall, your live performances have grown more ambitious, with additional collaborators and variables.

When people perform the same set over and over, it offers a bit of a safety net, but you keep experimenting. What is it that inspires you to approach live performance this way?

Camae Ayewa: I love the concept of reworking: that the music continues to breathe, the music continues to live, and in different situations, the music continues to grow. That’s important to me. I never want to stay locked into the sounds. The sounds continue to migrate, they continue to grow—they continue to have their own life, shall I say. And it’s my job or my passion to keep finding new ways to approach the work, but also new ways for the work to still be grounded in the present. And that’s what’s really interesting to me.

My writing style is about leaving space for the unknown and for the stories of the present moment. I believe it’s all one continual story, one continuous moment, vibrating at different frequencies. It is important to bring out all the layers, present all the layers, as if it was an infinity mirror that continues to shine light, that continues to reflect.

BS: The Great Bailout, the basis for your performance at the Walker: Can you give a bit of background on it?

CA: The project came about when I was commissioned by the Tusk Festival in England to present a work with an orchestra and to create a theme. At that moment, when I was thinking what I could do, I felt it was imperative to focus on a historical moment that still has its residue, or remnants, here in the present. This was, of course, a risky move, to put this type of work out there, but I felt that we had to honor the creative mind and honor all the things that have happened on this planet, really. To dwell into that and close the timeline.

BS: This is the first full-scale performance of The Great Bailout in the U.S. How did you arrive at the approach for the Walker performance?

CA: My approach was to pick the right ingredients…

[Continue reading at walkerart.org]

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Follow Moor Mother:
Website: moormother.net
Instagram: @moormother (instagram.com/moormother)
Facebook: facebook.com/MoorMother

Follow Liquid Music for updates and announcements:
Instagram: @LiquidMusicSeries (instagram.com/liquidmusicseries)
Facebook: facebook.com/LiquidMusicSeries
Newsletter: liquidmusic.org/newsletter