We met with Tansy to speak about her work performed at Nonclassical label birthday concert in late October, and about the inner world of the composer.

Tansy, if somebody came tomorrow and asked you this question – who is a modern composer? Why do you become one? How can you define yourself and your colleagues?

We are artists that work in slow time. Our work is really not very well suited to social media and Instagram. These things obviously have their uses and they can be great but it’s such a different world to the world of a composer, because it’s a kind of soul excavation. You have to go really deep, and it feels right now that it’s not just a kind of my own story I’m excavating, it feels more than ever than I am exploring the state of the world as it is now. It’s all the artists but I think particularly composers we’re working on this slow time, deep time, thinking back through the history of humanity, thinking about the earth, the earth’s history and so it’s an excavation of all these things and I think about things in a deep way and am making sense of things.

At the same time we are modern people, we’re trying to look to the future as well. So we try to be, I think, almost like a pivot point, sort of something in the middle where we’re digesting the past but we’re also looking to the future and thinking how can humanity evolve in the best ways? In some ways, in some abstract way, we are almost a crystalline form where it’s stories but there’s myriad stories being reflected all delving into how humanity can continue in a way that is the best version for us all.

And that can be expressed through music because music is so abstract. It is not just one story, it’s a trillion stories and I think that’s why composition, new music, which is composed in this way, which is a bit like weaving these thousand threads together. It is so slow and detailed, but that work is so important now because we live in a complex time. There are many layers to life: we live in memory, and we live in imagination of the future, and music is at the same time a model for finding our best selves in this abstract way which in a way sounds different every time to every person. And I am personally influenced by so many ways of doing music.

So we could say that you are a modern classical composer, but you are much more than this. So does the listener have to know all these different styles of music to understand yours? How do you advise to be prepared to listening your instrumental works or operatic works? Do you have to learn about funk, jazz, guitar?

No, I think the medium that I’m working within music is reflecting many different genres. It’s just my personal taste and so that’s how I choose to present my feelings through music that sounds this or sounds that. But you don’t have to know anything about that music. I try to make my music as clear as possible but I am dealing with complex things and I like to be surprising. I like audiences to be ready for surprises and to be curious. So the only thing I would ask is that you approach it with an open mind and open heart and be prepared to sort of feel it in your body maybe but as well as maybe have a spiritual experience. But it’s totally up to the audience how they approach it. Come as open as you can, and then find your own way through it. Those are imaginary spaces I’m building in sound, and I just want you to step into and wander around, find your own place.

Could you tell us a bit more about the project of Nonclassical label uniting with London Symphony Orchestra to perform contemporary classical music? LSO seems to be one of the giants in performing classical music, but they are also known for their Panufnik Young composers scheme. How come they have this programme with your music? Could you talk about your piece? Were you commissioned it for this particular concert? How did your colleagues join this concert?

So this concert really starts with the record label Nonclassical that you have mentioned. I have known them probably for 20 years, because it’s their 20th birthday. But I released an album with them in probably the first few years actually. So mine was one of their first albums and it was probably quite a breakthrough moment, because it was the first album I believe that really did have a lot of reviews in the big newspapers.

So my album, ‘Troubairitz’, was a bit of a breakthrough for all of us. So that was my lovely history with them, which has been a beautiful partnership. And they had this idea of celebrating their birthday concert with a birthday concert. And they obviously have a great relationship with the LSO. I think partly through the Young Composer programme. So the LSO have done a lot to help young composers, as you said. It’s a kind of a way of connecting that work they’re doing with the young composers, and the Nonclassical also who are working to help young composers, but also recoding the work of composers of my generation, which is so important because there’s too much emphasis, I think, on helping people when they’re younger and then leaving them without much help beyond that.

The trouble with a lot of the orchestras is they’re not proactive in putting on new music. So we’re very fortunate that the LSO is doing this and are more open than most. But there’s still work to do. So this piece… My piece was actually commissioned by the Proms some years ago, about 10 years back. It is called The Beginning of the World. It was commissioned for and is played by a chamber ensemble. So Nonclassical approached me and asked what of my works they could perform for the concert. And they actually asked me if I could create an orchestral version. Actually, what they wanted was, I don’t know if you heard, a piece of mine called ‘Neon’, it was one of my earlier pieces that was kind of a breakthrough piece, and that was released on a Nonclassical label. And they wanted me to create an orchestral version of Neon for this concert, but we just couldn’t do it in the time.

So as it was not possible to do that, and I suggested a few other things and among them ‘The Beginning of the World’, which I think is very appropriate for now because it feels like we’re at rock bottom with everything that’s going in the world. Yes, I can feel that. I really feel that, but I feel at the same time we have to try to think of what positives can come out as well, and growing new roots. And so I think the fact that they’ve chosen ‘The Beginning of the World’, for me it feels like a new dawn, a new earth, a new physical beginning in this country with very low, very low morale now. So I just feel it’s very appropriate that they’ve chosen the beginning of the world. Let’s hope it is indeed a new beginning.

Actually, I’m fascinated about your hint on the generational rift in a way that there are always young composers, emerging composers. But if you are an established composer, and have had success in the past, how do you grow? My question is do you think that we could divide modern composers into generations like ones in 60s, in their 40s, in their 20s, or is it a more mixed group? Can we say that there are the least established ones and mid-established ones?

The thing is, you can’t really categorize it in terms of the work because you might make the best work when you’re 70. Yeah, exactly. Yeah, so I think it’s great that there is support for young composers, but that support needs to be spread in a different way. People who are under 30 are able to get support and live quite cheaply, and I think generally speaking most artists live in very frugal ways. They’re not greedy people but there’s maybe a darker side to the fact of only supporting young players – that is, then they don’t expect to be paid so well. It’s great that they get the opportunities but then the point is that it shouldn’t be an amateur craft. It shouldn’t just be a hobby. And there are many, many great artists that need some support to continue on, as I said earlier. Helping them is almost helping support the evolution of humanity or at least document it in this abstract way which I think is so important. We need to take more seriously this great work that’s being done and it’s such a fantastic craft, that’s an ancient craft – that of a composer. I’ve found myself in this world of notated music, although I work with electronics and as you said I like funk and things like that. Composing music, I think, it’s all about a different way of looking, different way of using the brain, it’s a kind of abstract layering of storytelling and its complexity, which is I think we really need. So we mustn’t lose it even though it’s really not conducive to a modern world of doing everything cheaply and easily, because it takes time. People do need to be paid for that time if they’re going to dedicate their lives to it.

Tansy, It’s interesting that you have mentioned that this piece ‘The Beginning of the World’ is a topical one. It defines the possible beginning of the new world. You also had an opera ‘Between the worlds’ about one of the most horrific events in modern history. But some people will say that music can’t be political, that we go to a concert to escape reality and to listen to something and to feel good. How would you answer to that? Can music actually change the world or indicate a model for the development of the world?

As I said, I think it can help us to digest the world, but I think it can do many things. You can go and hear music to just feel joy, just to dance, just to sing along. But it’s like if you’re going out to a restaurant, you probably don’t want to go to the same place to eat every time you go out. So it’s fun to go and have some fast food. But it’s also really interesting to try something you’ve never tried. And I think that’s also true with music. And I think we can get this deeper nourishment from things which are slow cooked, like composed music that I do. And that’s not to say that it’s any better than anything else, it’s just a different way of interfacing with reality. It is also stepping away from reality, as you say, yes, it’s a kind of escapism. But at the same time, I think it can help you when you detach from that everyday world, but you experience a kind of reflection of the reality through composed music, you don’t have to think about it. You just let it wash over you. I think going out then, back into the world, maybe just gives you a different feeling, equips you somehow with some kind of positivity or inner strength. Or maybe it makes you angry, but that anger can be put to a good use. So I think it’s not gonna save the world in that respect, but I think it can help you change in ways you might need to change.

I once talked to George Benjamin, and he’s very strict on the notion that you shouldn’t have a phone in your hands when you’re in a modern opera or in a modern concert. But I see that this way of interaction with audiences has been changing. I’ve been to the music shows where you could walk around the hall. Recently at Aurora Orchestra’s concert that I have attended – they made it so we could walk around the instruments and actually make videos the whole proceedings. How do you feel about it? We all have our phones, and it has influenced our perception, maybe we can’t concentrate on music any longer. Are you as a composer willing to embrace these changes of our mind, or would you like to pressure us into deeper perception?

Well, I wouldn’t want to take anyone’s phone away. Although I think there were probably some people that liked the idea of being able to turn their phone off. You know, I think there are more people than you might think who actually quite like to turn their phone off for an hour. But at the same time, I think if there is a way of incorporating the phone into a physical experience, that’s fine. All I would say is that the music has to come first and as someone who’s making it, creating it, putting it together, for me my priority is to ask myself is is this the best it could possibly be? And I think if it is good enough then people won’t feel the need to look at the phone. The problem is there’s not enough faith in composers and people who are putting new work out there from the promoters, the venues and promoters get nervous about how they’re going to get people in. But if we’re bold – and the composers need to be bold, the artists need to be bold, the promoters need to be bold, we need to do everything 110 percent – then it’s up to the audience if they want to look at their phone or not. But at least we know, we’ve tried, we’ve put it there in the most direct and all-encompassing way, which hopefully will create an immersive experience because the work is that good. But for the work to be that good, there need to be an investment of time and money. We can’t just throw it together in three hours if you want that kind of quality.

Well, I’m sure that many people are interested but are never able to ask. Could you briefly describe the music composition process, physically, mentally, in terms of the hours put into one piece? How does it actually happen?

It takes a long time, but I have to say it’s really, really the most amazing experience and I absolutely love doing it. It’s difficult. As I say, it is a soul excavation. For me, it’s spiritual practice, but it’s also just the most joyful thing for me to do. I love my notes, I love my musicians, I love my audience. Everything is done about exchange of feelings of joy for creating something. So, for me it’s a wonderful thing to do, and I just hope that the work is welcoming, so that people feel they want to come into it even if it’s like nothing they’ve heard before. I want them to feel welcome. My daily practice is just trying to get myself in a kind of spiritual place, so that I’m calm, so that my third eye is open. I have to then work out what’s possible on the instruments and then how will the audience receive this, and can I make it any better. It’s a kind of trying to be a spiritual conduit and then just having a lot of fun, because I love making something with the sound, having fun with sound and thinking about the emotion, thinking about the communication.

It is a balancing of all these things, and there are always challenges in terms of the technical capabilities of the instruments and how far I can expect a musician or a singer to go. So, I don’t want to exhaust them, but I want them to look amazing and feel amazing. I want to push them. It’s a bit like that with the audience. I’m trying to put forward expansion, pushing into bigger, wider experiences. So, for me, every piece is a new journey. And I just want to take everyone with me.

Do you hear the piece in your head, or do you have an overall mental structure, and then the first time you hear it when an orchestra is performing it? And how much impact do you actually have on the first performance? Is it always a different piece from the one that you heard when you were composing?

Well, it’s always a different piece every time and that’s why I work with live musicians, you know, and there are always surprises but mostly I’ve been doing it for enough years now, so I know how it’s going to sound. Hopefully it’s always better than my computer sounds when I play on the computer.

Could you describe, like what is actually happening before we hear the piece? How goes the meeting of the musicians with the notes? Have they seen them before? Do you talk with the conductor? Could you describe this process of actual preparation of a life performance of your piece?

Yes, a very good question. Because with the kind of music that I create, the way that the culture has evolved is such that I have to make everything almost as you might say “plug and play”. I’m lucky to have a wonderful publisher. So, I create the music and it goes through the publisher. They create the notes on the page for the musicians and for the producer. And I have to have thought of almost 100% of everything that could go wrong. And put it all there so that there are not too many questions. Because time is so short. So, I don’t have a luxury of explaining. I know roughly the level of musicians – if there’s an orchestra, I won’t know everyone, but I might know some of them. And then I have lots of help from the publisher and the conductor, who’s very important, because there is no extra time.

It’s always a long journey for me. I’ve been living with a piece for months or a year sometimes. And they must learn it very quickly. And in the UK, the musicians are so quick. And it’s wonderful, natural joy and kind of flexibility and confidence. That’s the problem with a premiere. It’s a little bit nervous and a little bit undercooked, as we might say. But that’s also one of the exciting things about it. As an audience member, if you like to be there at the start and see something forming, you should go to the premiere. But what we do need is a second, third, fourth time. Then the musicians can dance their way through it.

You’ve been named a BBC Young Composer of the Year. Are the awards or the moments of the premieres the most rewarding moments in a composer’s life? Or are there other silent epiphany moments?

You ask amazingly good questions. Yes, that’s the word. The epiphanies are the growth spurts for me. So, when I’m excavating, I think you can hear it in music. You can hear when a composer has an epiphany and when they haven’t overworked it, you feel that spark. And so, I try to capture that because that’s my kind of soul growth, and I feel if I can capture that, it’s going to be useful for other people in their journey. So those are probably, in the deepest sense, the most wonderful moments, but I’m usually on my own having those epiphanies. The most fun is when I get to work with musicians that I know and love and we come together now and again, like singers or people that I’ve worked with quite closely, and then sparks fly. It’s just thrilling to see what they do with it because they always take another journey with it that I couldn’t imagine.

And the awards are also just fun and it’s just very nice to know that people are listening, and they really get the music. Because sometimes it feels like you’re on your own for months and months, very lonely. Does anyone really listen, is there anyone out there? But actually, the awards say, hey, keep it going, that’s beautiful, we like it. Yeah, so that’s fun.