The Quiet Piece: they say less is more, and I finally get it
June 12, 2024; Mannes School of Music; New York, NY; Sandbox Percussion
"Wow, it's been a long time since my last blog post."
Funny enough, that's exactly what I wrote last time in May 2024. And here we are, a year later. I guess I'll just make one blog each year. Anyway, I recently watched the recording of my latest piece for percussion quartet, The Quiet Piece, performed by the incredible Sandbox Percussion. And let me tell you, I cried my eyes out watching it.
From late 2023 through early 2025, life felt unbearably desperate. Mostly because of a toxic relationship, in which my “rich“ ex convinced me that my music was worthless and that I should quit to do something else for money. I found myself questioning whether I should give up my music career entirely, even though it has always been my greatest passion. Sadly, I did give up for a year and became a full-time house husband. I wrote nothing new. I missed deadlines for all my commissions. And one by one, they got canceled.
Fortunately, the commission for this piece from Sandbox Percussion, through their Creator Mentorship Program, felt like a beam of light cutting through my darkest time. I had one job that whole year: write this goddamn percussion quartet. Honestly, at first, it was mostly because they had already paid the deposit. But I was grateful, deeply grateful, that this obligation forced me to finish this piece.
May 14, 2024; Mannes School of Music; New York, NY; Testing ideas with Sandbox Percussion
Sonority wise, The Quiet Piece doesn’t really belong in my current catalogue. It has a simple texture, easy chord progression, and, most of all, a slow, slow, slow pacing. You know why? Because I honestly thought this might be the last piece I would ever compose. I wasn’t sure I’d keep going — being a composer is hard, no matter what. So when I was writing it, I thought, the world feels so noisy and chaotic right now. I just need a quiet moment to breathe and to cry.
And for once, I didn’t care about what people in music school might say about my style, my techniques, or all the other things young composers get judged for. You could say I was pretty brave to write it… in a very unhealthy way lol. But also, maybe healthy? Because usually, I’m always thinking about my audience and my performers when I compose. This time, I only thought about myself. It’s a piece for me.
The whole piece is centered on one vibraphone technique: pitch bending, where one mallet strikes the note while the other presses the bar firmly to create a distorted sound effect. Sure, it’s overused in contemporary works, but I’m 99% sure no one’s ever tried it with a whole group at once.
June 10, 2024; Mannes School of Music; New York, NY; Final rehearsal before the premiere
The pitch bending sound reminds me of the sound of an old vinyl record player or a piece of music played underwater. It is blurry and uncertain, and that is exactly what I have come to appreciate over the years. Controlling unpredictability and uncertainty has always been a big part of my writing. You will hear more in this piece too, from the use of melodies on the slide whistle or even just a regular whistle. Neither can ever be played with the perfect accuracy of a piano, but that is what I love: the delicacy, the way the performers have to approach the sound with extra care. That subtlety means so much to me.
If you check these clips on Instagram, you’ll see our collaboration — the exchange of ideas and the creative process in action. I gave Sandbox Percussion an idea and a few notes, then let them improvise for a few minutes. Honestly, I didn’t really create this piece myself; they should also get credit, since I basically just notated what they improvised.
Even after I had everything I needed, the most challenging part of writing this piece wasn’t music-related at all. It was choreographing the shifts between mallets and bows. I even wrote some incomplete chords and unusual voicings just to make those transitions more comfortable for the four percussionists. So even though it’s a easy piece to listen to, I’m sure the performers feel plenty of pressure because it’s very easy to go wrong.
I cried at the premiere of this piece. To my surprise, I received many kind comments about the work and even sold several copies of the score, something I never expected since I honestly did not think this piece would be well received at all. One of my friends, who knows what I went through, told me she cried hard while listening to it because the pitch bending sound reminded her of the sound of sobbing. That made perfect sense to me, even though I had not realized it myself before.
I think that’s enough for me to share. A big thanks to Ian, Victor, Jonny, and Terry for trusting me and offering me this commission. It was so wonderful working with top-class musicians, and writing this piece genuinely changed my life. And I am truly grateful to everyone who has helped me along the way, especially the last two years, because I know I would not be who I am today without them. I hope that, whenever I can, I will be that person who helps others too.
