
Negative Space
Solo violin, electronics, and projections explore how
what is missing from or denied to us define our identities.

Thank you for coming this evening. Feel free to move around the space and find your own comfort zone. Please hold applause until the end of the program. Note: one of the audio interludes briefly references self-harm. If you or someone you know is in need of help, know that support is available.
note: the June 7 performance of this program will be slightly reordered - stick around for the second set to hear excerpts from the Wiankco as well as tango favorites!
Program:
Reena Esmail (b. 1983) - take what you need (2016)
Nathalie Joachim (b. 1983) - Watch Over Us (2014)
Philip Glass (b.1937) - Knee Play 2 from Einstein on the Beach (1976)
Teagan Faran (b. 1996) - Tomorrow (2021)
Xenia St. Charles Gilbert (b. 2000) - Life is like a Washing Machine, You Never Know What You’re Gonna Hit (2020)
Jens Ibsen (b. 1995) - Temptress (2020)
Paul Wiancko (b. 1983) - X Suite (2019)
Prelude
Allemande
Canon
Courante
Nocturne
Bourrée
Orison
Carolina Heredia (b. 1981) - Déjate Caer (2012)
Teagan Faran - Chorale (2021)
Reena Esmail - take what you need (reprise)
Vocal interludes written by me and read by Nicole Brancato.
Tonight’s projections were designed by me and use my own footage, photos by Natali Herrera-Pacheco, microscope images taken by Baker Lab of the University of Michigan, and stock content made available through a creative commons license. Stock footage provided by Videvo and Beachfront, downloaded from www.videvo.net, and images provided by Pixaby, downloaded from www.pixabay.com.
Many thanks to Curtis Macomber, Jens Ibsen, Xenia St. Charles Gilbert, Paul Wiancko, Tanner Porter, and Nicole Brancato who all gave their time to help make this program possible.
Thanks to you for being here.
Notes:
Take What You Need
Of the many performances of Take What You Need, very few of them have been in traditional concert halls. Most performances have taken place in jails, homeless shelters, support groups, schools, memorial services, places of worship — in places where people can gather to see and honor the humanity in one another.
Take What You Need was first written for Urban Voices Project, a choir made up of people who are experiencing or have recently experienced homelessness — so many of whom have trusted this piece with their own stories of loss and redemption, and who I am so honored to count among my dearest friends. But this piece is also meant to be a resource for musicians and communities to come together and build the lasting relationships that plant seeds for social change.
Take What You Need is licensed under Creative Commons, and scores/parts for many different arrangements of the work are available for free.
Watch Over Us
Watch Over Us is inspired by “Two Gods”, a documentary film by Zeshawn Ali, that tells the story of Hanif, a casket maker and body washer of the Islamic tradition, and his mentorship of two young men, Furquan and Naz. The violin material explores the physical characteristics of water: its ability to be flowing, rhythmic, overwhelmingly and suddenly powerful, and still, all at once. The melodic material also examines the symbolic aspects of water as an emotional healing, cleansing or soothing agent, as well as an indication of rebirth and life. An athan (Islamic call to worship) from the film is sampled as the basis of the accompanying electronic track, and appears paired with synthesizers and processed vocal articulations. The track is intended to be distinctly fixed, yet yearns for the fluidity of the acoustic violin. The work closes with the violin taking on some of that duality – a metaphorical blurring of lines between the hard and soft edges of life.
- notes by the composer
Knee Play 2
"It could be a balloon, it could be Franky, it could be"
- from Einstein on the Beach
Tomorrow
A promise to keep going.
Life is like a Washing Machine, You Never Know What You're Gonna Hit
I composed, learned, and premiered this piece just in a few days after the Trump administration announced it would be eliminating an Obama-era regulation that prohibited healthcare workers from discriminating against transgender patients. As a trans person with a pre-existing condition, I felt broken. The idea of someone denying me healthcare based on my transness made me sick. So in response, I did the two things I know how to do best: make silly jokes, and make noise. The title of the piece is a reference to feeling awash, and it is also a reference to the famous Forrest Gump quote, "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." The piece itself is very noisy, and represents the act of walking the line between being in complete control and completely losing control. I do my best to walk this line, and while this particular cruel episode from the Trump administration has since been struck down, trans rights are brought up to the chopping block quite frequently. Until that changes, I'll continue walking this line.
- notes by the composer
Temptress
Temptress was an interesting experiment for me as a composer, as it was an opportunity to explore the possibility of translating the musical hallmarks of progressive metal, such as fast, syncopated notes, bass ostinati, and irregular rhythm, onto a single instrument—a very high-flying one, at that. I was initially uncertain of whether this was doable, but I quickly was pleasantly surprised to find that the ideas that emerged fit both the instrument and the aesthetic vision I had set out for the piece.
As with many of my pieces, I chose a title from the very beginning, and allowed it to be a focal point behind my ideas as a way of verbally encapsulating the piece’s essence. This piece lives up to its title in a couple of ways. For one, the violin has a long-standing mythos of devilishness (Paganini and Ysaÿe come to mind). I felt the piece needed to evoke that essential part of the violin’s character. It possesses, more than most instruments, a capacity to be sublimely sweet, or as nasty as sin with but the smallest changes in intention, pitch, bow pressure, and articulation.
The music, as a result, is an exploration of this polarity between sweet, angelic tunefulness and devilish, distorted discord. There is a single, lyrical theme that weaves itself in and out of the piece which ends up being interrupted by jagged figures reminiscent of “shredding” in metal: the art of playing very quick notes with heavy distortion. The melody embodies temptation: it lulls the listener into a false sense of security before the sting of the shredding sends them reeling. In the end, the listener can decide which idea emerges victorious in this musical battle of wills.
- notes by the composers
X Suite
Wiancko "was inspired by the old way of crossing things out like on a typewriter before we had delete keys — just to go back and type “X” over each letter so you can actually see the underlying mistake. It still exists, just with an X over it."
Many of the movements are inspired by Baroque dances you might find in Bach, and yet the whimsical, colorful, and totally contemporary lens with which Paul has reimagined them is breathtaking. X Suite jumps off the page for the listener and player alike, however, it is also a virtuosic and innovative feat of composition. All of the movements share the same DNA, with common motives, techniques, intervals, and melodies warping and morphing constantly throughout the work. In the third movement, Canon, the violinist is asked to play two voices on two strings in canon at the unison. In the Bourrée, there is a chorus of eight chattering voices, to be played simultaneously. The resulting music is complex and fun to listen to.
- notes by Alexi Kenney and an interview with Paul Wiancko
The projections for this suite combine microscope images from the Baker Laboratory and celestial photographs. The similarities between images incredibly internal and extremely external from us is a constant reminder of perspective to me. Whenever we can take a moment to look outward, is it just another way of looking in - and vice versa? A special thank you to Paul Wiancko and Brendon Baker, too, for their help in my own path of exploring identity.
Déjate Caer
The title Déjate Caer can be translated from Spanish as let yourself fall, and is taken from the poem Árbol de Diana by Alejandra Pizarnik:
“Vida, mi vida, déjate caer, déjate doler, mi vida, déjate enlazar de fuego,
de silencio ingenuo, de piedras verdes en la casa de la noche,
déjate caer y doler, mi vida.”
[Life, my life, let yourself fall, let yourself hurt, my life, let yourself be engulfed by fire,
of ingenuous silence, of green stones in the house at night,
let yourself fall and hurt, my life.]
- translation and notes by the composer
Chorale
I have been searching for ways to present all of the pieces of myself every time I walk on stage and realizing that this is maybe not possible or even ideal. The voices of my past and future selves float in the background as present me stands up to speak.
[take what you need.] (reprise) -
Take a moment
Take a breath
Take time
Take care
Take heart
Take hope
Take a step
Take a chance
Take courage
Take charge
Take a stand
Take pride
Take joy
Take pause
Take a moment
Take a breath
Take what you need
have a wonderful evening and thank you.