I'm perched on a Pacific bluff, reaching for a cloud that floats away. I'm not grieving, I'm just admiring the beauty of loss. I tell you this because I want you to know exactly what you're getting. You're getting the estranged son of an artist mother with an emotional terrain of a cliff. You're getting a singer, writer and producer who reckoned with generational barrier to artistic work, migrated continents to complete a musical education, to sing with shameless celebration without permission from class, race, sexuality, or visas. You're getting a composer who is writing music for the future, with a bold embrace of the past.
My album, Mother, is about mother. It's about my attachment to her, how she shaped perception of my feelings as elemental as joy and sorrow, my relationship to femininity, our separation, and finding answers to questions she left. It's about understanding motherhood through birthing my own music. Mothers are fundamental to shaping who we are, and the expanse and complexity of motherhood cannot simply be informed by reductive ideas like Mother's Day. I write and compose all my work. The juxtaposition of chamber and electronic composition is informed by the music of my childhood and my present, and a purpose to create music distinct from the current landscape of popular music.
Each live performance is a unique orchestral, colourful and artful experience. My full ensemble consists of voice, a string quartet, synthesizers, electronic and acoustic percussion, harp and a boy's choir.