Following up with your initial steps in composition, did you have any mentors that helped you along the way at that time?

I had teachers – there were composition classes in the program that I took. But I was pretty much the only female in my year, or that I knew of, that was trying to do stuff like this, and it wasn’t until maybe towards the end of my degree that I even encountered a female composer. It was a strange thing – I definitely received criticism that my music was too “girly.”

What do you think they meant by that?

Maybe too emotional or something?

You mean like too good? [laughs]

[laughs] Maybe, I don’t know! But there was definitely a lot of soul searching when I started out, because I was like, what is too girly? And there were a few years where I was writing music that would have been what I thought I had to do – maybe overly complex, or something that seemed sort of macho, that would be okay with the people that I was composing around.

What do you think happened to make a shift to the type of music you’re making now?

I was going to tell this to you another time, but I remember when I was in college, towards the end, I heard of this Bang on a Can school, and was like, oh, these people seem really interesting. And I was looking on their website, and they had featured a piece of yours on it, Bubblegum Grass Peppermint Field.

You’re gonna make me cry! [laughs]

I remember listening to it and being struck… it was really like a shock to me. Firstly, it was an awesome piece. It was really beautiful. It had amazing colors, and there was like joy and whimsy in it. But what struck me about it most was the fact that it seemed like the composer that had written it was was being true to themselves, and it was a really genuine piece of music. That sort of planted the seed for me that I could write stuff that I just like myself, and I don’t have to be what other people expect me to be.

I’m so honored to hear that. I feel like I have a very similar journey to you, in my initial attempts at writing music, of feeling like I was really not writing for myself because there’s all these other things that come into play. And definitely now I know that being a woman writing music, and perceptions of that, are a big part of it, but at the time I couldn’t see that. So it took me a while to get to that point, too, and I’m really honored to hear that also inspired you to find your own voice and to be true to who you are. In composition we spend so many hours working on things, and it’s so absurd to put so much time and effort into something you’re not connected to, and you don’t feel like it’s part of you.

I totally agree with that, which is why I feel like this Hildegard initiative is so exciting. I hope that with an institution like that shining a light on a really diverse array of female or non binary composers, there might be budding composers out there that just find someone – the styles are so different that maybe they’ll find someone in that group that sparks something for them, where they’re like, Oh, this is totally what I could do, and I want to be that.

And if they start seeing people that look like them – if people see themselves represented in the music – then they also might see that as an option for themselves, which is huge.

I think I only realized that later. All of my early twenties, it felt like if you want to be part of the club, you need to write music that is acceptable by the dudes. But now it’s like, if you can be visible as just who you are, it’s so much more powerful, and it can inspire all these other people. So as I have entered my thirties, I’m slowly kind of figuring things out. [laughs]

Well, you’re well on your way. I feel like there’s a lot of possibilities for you, and you’re not only doing that for yourself, but you’re also paving the way for other people. And I’m sure when people hear your music, they will have similar experiences and connect to it in very special and meaningful ways.

That means a lot.

We talked a little bit about what it means to write in specific places that are populated by very specific kinds of people that write very kind of specific music. I’m wondering, more outside of those spaces and in terms of the audience in general, if when you write a new piece, do you think about your audience? And if so, in what ways?

Weirdly enough, I don’t think about them at all until I get into the rehearsal process—and then I’m like, oh no, will people hate this? [laughs] But I think usually I get so into it at this point that it’s I’m trying to like figure something out, or work through something in the music, that it becomes sort of all-consuming. Maybe this is a terrible thing, that I don’t think about the audience that much, but I don’t, really.

It’s not a terrible thing. I think as long as you’re being true to who you are, that honesty will translate to the audience.

Yeah… I think I probably cared more when I was writing music I didn’t really like. [laughs]

I understand exactly what you’re saying. If you’re not thinking about your audience – which I don’t think I do either, at that stage of composing – what’s your main concern when you’re starting a new piece?

It varies, piece by piece. I never have a title before I write, but there might be some idea. I’m not the most coherent person; I find it hard to capture and put into words certain feelings. And it’s those feelings – maybe it’s a smell that reminds you of something – it’s those hard to describe feelings that I usually try and capture in my music. So it’s sort of a process of working through what would convey that. Have you ever looked at The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows? It’s this beautiful site online where this guy creates words for really complicated emotions. They’re really beautiful, and he’s started making videos for them and stuff like that. I feel like as we grow older, maybe you’re more capable just through life experience of having these more complex feelings. And for me, I try and figure that out.

I hear you—and I hear that in your music, too. That Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows sounds like a great kind of resource, or source, for a new piece too.

I think a few of my friends have used it.

I was going to ask, because that’s like a composer’s dream right there. [laughs]