ARTISTIC STATMENT
I have always been drawn to the quiet mechanics of the world—the way things behave beneath the surface, the patterns that shape our experience long before we notice them. Music became the place where that curiosity could take form. It offered a way for me to study reality not through equations or descriptions, but through sound: to ask questions, test ideas, and observe how phenomena reveal themselves when translated into vibration, pitch, and time.
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This instinct eventually led me toward what I now call Translational Composition, an approach in which I convert natural phenomena—such as astrophysical processes, cognitive states, or the structure of a molecule—into musical materials. My music often features layered tempos, multiple tuning systems, and contrasting timbres because the natural world does not behave within the tidy frameworks that conventional music theory assumes. Real phenomena unfold simultaneously at different speeds, magnitudes, and levels of detail, so translating them into sound requires a multifaceted musical language capable of holding that complexity. The resulting sound worlds can be dense, shimmering, dissonant, or unexpectedly delicate, depending on the nature of the phenomenon being translated.
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Although my process is research-oriented, my motivation is deeply personal. Growing up, I wanted to understand why things are the way they are—what holds the world together beneath its surface. Composition became the medium through which I could explore those questions. For example, in a piece for flute, percussion, and electronics, I translated the molecular structure of Psilocybe cubensis into audible frequencies, allowing its elemental relationships to shape the tuning, pacing, and timbral palette. In another work, I explored the gradual slowing of neural oscillations during the transition from life to death. These projects are not attempts to explain their subjects, but invitations for listeners to experience their behaviors over time and to encounter natural phenomena through a different medium—one that reveals aspects of reality that cannot be seen but can be heard.
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My goal as a composer is to create music that encourages curiosity—not through instruction, but through encounter. If a listener leaves a performance wondering about the physics of a star, the rhythm of a thought, or the structure of a mushroom, then the piece has opened a door. I don’t view composition as an act of pronouncement; I see it as an act of connection, a way of sharing a perspective and inviting others to form their own. Through my work, I hope to offer listeners a space for reflection and discovery, and to reveal the fascinating systems that quietly shape the world we all inhabit.