The flutist Jennifer Grim, in collaboration with pianist Michael Sheppard, presented to National Sawdust audiences the six works on her recent album Through Broken Time, a capsule of her research into post-minimalism and Afro-modernism. Grim, an active performer and professor at the University of Miami, recently made time with National Sawdust to discuss how the program originated. 

This interview has been edited and condensed. 

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You describe Through Broken Time as living at “the intersection of Afro-Modernism and post-minimalism.” How did you become interested in this intersection?

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I wanted to find a project that would speak to my own experiences as an interracial Black woman, and, originally, I wanted to pick pieces that reflected that identity as well. On further investigation, I realized that the pieces I responded to musically didn’t always align with that [intention]. I wanted to find pieces that I could give justice to in my performance as well as fit into my vision, and I chose these pieces because they ended up fitting together.

What led to you choosing this collection of works for the album?

My affiliation with David Sanford was a big influence on the album. Whether David knows it or not, he was very meaningful for me in my evolution as an artist. When I moved to New York in the nineties, I started my career focused on new music, and I had an opportunity to perform with [the contemporary ensemble] Speculum Musicae. The program featured a piece by David [Dogma 74] that reflected a lot of the aspects of new music that I most enjoyed—a lot of jazz influences, but in a more experimental style, like if you were to mix Milton Babbitt and Miles Davis. Working with David was also my first professional interaction with a Black composer, which for me was very significant. Many years later, when I had the opportunity to record this album, I thought of him immediately. I chose his work Klatka Stil and I also commissioned him to write me a piece, which became Offertory. 

Other works came about because I’d enjoyed playing them in the past. Tania León’s piece is a perfect way to begin an album. It tells the story of a bird waking up in the morning through lots of birdlike flute gestures. The work by Valerie Coleman [Wish] tells the story of the Middle Passage—of slaves coming from Africa to the New World. I could put my whole self into the piece, physically and emotionally. I’d also performed Allison Loggins-Hull’s beautiful piece Homeland recently. 

Separately, I was involved with a commission for Julia Wolfe’s flute ensemble piece Oxygen. As the vice president of the National Flute Association, I was supposed to play the work at our convention in 2020, which never happened, though I was fortunate to be able to perform it later with my students. I’d also started thinking that the work would be really stunning as a multitrack solo piece. My teacher at Yale, Ransom Wilson, had premiered [Steve Reich’s] Vermont Counterpoint, a multitracked work for solo flute, which gave me the inspiration to record the Wolfe.

Alvin Singleton is the only composer I don’t know personally. His work Argoru came up in my research when I was thinking of making an all Black composers album. It’s very difficult, but, now that I’ve had time to digest the piece, it’s actually very fun to play—the title [in the Ghanaian Twi language], translates as “to play”—and I love how it contrasts with the more tonal pieces on the album. 

How did you come to be working with pianist Michael Sheppard on this album? 

When I told my friend and producer, Svet Stoyanov, about the type of music I wanted to perform on this record, he immediately thought of Michael. What’s so great about Michael is that he can embrace any style. His way of approaching music is so genuine—there’s no ego, no agenda.  While the music itself was intense, the working process was more easygoing.

Which of these works posed the most challenges for you technically? What about musically? 

‍Offertory is really technically challenging. The second movement begins, essentially, with a written-out improvisation inspired by John Coltrane. There’s some repeated motives that are to be played at a very fast tempo, despite being very tricky—though, of course, if you’re wailing on a solo, it can’t be slow. Musically, Tania León’s piece poses some very interesting challenges. It’s possible to play the notes, but getting the ideas and characters is difficult. The beginning is about a bird waking up at the start of the day, and it’s supposed to be very gentle, but it’s also difficult to play thirty-second notes and still sound calm.

Julia Wolfe’s Oxygen features a whopping twelve flute tracks, all recorded by you. Can you discuss the process of working on such a project? What is it like to play amidst so many different versions of yourself? 

[The project] was quite an ordeal. The piece is 15 minutes, but multiplied by 12 parts, which gets you a three hour long piece. Normally, when we perform, we like to think horizontally, focusing on melody and narrative. But, when you have to overdub yourself, precision needs to win out over everything else—checking intonation, making sure your lengths of the notes are the same on each of the 12 recordings. I’m very grateful to my producer and engineer, as well as the University of Miami, for allowing me to stay in the hall as long as I needed. I’m looking forward to performing it at Sawdust. Even without ambisonic sound [Sawdust’s 360-degree sound system], the precision that you hear while playing is really incredible. 

Recording often requires a markedly different mindset from performance. What, if anything, do you imagine will change about your approach to these pieces during the live show? 

Performing will be a lot easier than recording. I haven’t performed the Julia Wolfe yet, but Michael and I have performed all the other works on recitals several times this year. It’s really liberating to present works that we know so well, because we can just go in and play—we’ve already had all the discussions. We’re unburdened from the recording process, and now [the music] feels easier and lighter. There’s a new life to it. 

What would you say is the throughline of the works on your album and upcoming performance? 

I hate to say it, because it’s cheesy, but it’s great music. There’s a lot of soul in all of it, not in any kind of perfunctory way—a lot of heart and emotion. My affiliation with the works is the same. I have a commitment to help diversify the field of classical music in what I do as an educator, a performer, and as an arts leader in various organization[s]. I feel an obligation, but a really beautiful obligation, to present this music in as many places as I can. 

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About Jennifer Gersten

Jennifer Gersten is a writer, violinist, and Fulbright 2022-23 research grantee to Norway. Her writing appears in The New Yorker, Rolling Stone, and The Washington Post.

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