BY CUTCOMMON
Alice Chance comes from a long line of “very creative, tough-as-nails women”.
Her deep connection to family is explored in her composition Heirloom. But the Australian composer didn’t stop there when creating music to express those unique bonds between daughter, mother, and grandmother; the memories shared between generations. Alice met with 15 women from different families around the world, recording each of their stories and developing a new piece that fuses voice, instrument, and emotion.
Heirloom is about to be performed in the Melbourne Recital Centre, where Rubiks Collective will share and play the “diverse, powerful meanings” found in mother-daughter relationships as interpreted and voiced through Alice’s work.
Alice tells CutCommon about her “mother-daughter motet” and the women that inspired her.
How did you come to be involved with Rubiks Collective?
I first worked with Kaylie Melville in 2018 for a project at the Australian National Academy of Music directed by Tim Munro. We made a live version of an installation piece of mine called Comfort Music, for which Kaylie played vibraphone. I remember her kind encouraging smile was very reassuring as I worried whether I’d gone overboard on the bowed vibraphone.
We kept in touch and looked for ways to work together in future, resulting in writing funding applications together. We were very fortunate that two of them were successful: Create NSW Individual funding and the 2021 Art Music Fund, making this [Heirloom] project possible!
After that, Kaylie, Tamara, and I kept in touch with regular Zooms throughout lockdowns, keeping the dream alive. They are wonderful people who care deeply about what they do, and I feel so lucky to get to work with them.
Melbourne Recital Centre bills you as an “internationally recognised art music specialist”, so I’d love to know — what do you think makes a terrific piece of art music?
For me, a great piece of art music is unself-conscious. It seems to have its own goals, its own curiosity that it would like to satisfy, and we’re just lucky enough to be listening.
You’ve composed a piece called Heirloom. Tell us a bit about the ideas that underpin the work.
Heirloom draws upon previous work of mine where I have recorded three generations of women in the same family singing in harmony, and played with the ways they can slowly phase in and out of synchronisation with each other, aiming to reflect the complex and constantly evolving ties between mothers and daughters throughout their lifetimes.
For Heirloom, I have recorded a total of 15 women from five different families from all over the world. The women not only sing but tell stories of objects passed down to them from their mothers and grandmothers.
I’ve also expanded the musical language to include interwoven layers of live instruments played by Rubiks Collective.
How do these concepts resonate with you personally? Why did you want to share a story about those bonds between mothers and daughters?
I come from a line of very creative, tough-as-nails women, and definitely wanted to honour them in this piece.
But more broadly, I was interested in the fact that the words mother and daughter can carry such diverse, powerful meanings for people. I wanted to create space for a listener to reflect on the women in their own family, whether that family is biological or chosen, and the ways in which objects can be imbued with meaning and love.
Which families did you choose to work with, and what did including these voices mean to you?
Of the five families I recorded, three are based in Australia and two in France.
Kaylynn Zaro OAM — a performer and custodian of Torres Strait songs and culture from Mer Island — sang with her mother and daughter. Musical theatre gem Kimberley Hodgson sang with her mother and niece. Composer Felicity Wilcox, who has also recently worked with Rubiks and received well-deserved recognition for it, sang with her own mother and daughter.
The two France-based families I met through singing in choirs in Paris.
Soprano Lucie Coquet, whose family sings songs from their native Bretagne region whenever they get together, sang with her aunt and grandmother. Tahereh Duchêne Zahraee sang with her daughter and older sister, who sang on behalf of their mother who had just arrived from Iran.
As you can see, I didn’t have the most objective selection method. These are all people who I’ve worked with and become friends with, who have been kind enough to introduce me to their families and share their voices and stories with me.
How did their words help shape the music you composed?
Their voices and their stories, as audience members will hear, were so powerful that I found myself needing to make space, and let the music take on a supporting role for some of the time.
How do you use music to share or enhance the depth and complexity of these families’ connections?
Bizarrely, this idea for a piece like this first came to me straight after listening to the Monteverdi Vespers performed by the Song Company and St Mary’s Cathedral Choir around five years ago. Just sitting in that harmonically static soundworld for so long caused me to think about the music in an entirely different way.
I’d also just discovered Gavin Bryars’ Jesus’ Blood and was very moved by essentially the same idea: how deep you can go if you’re brave enough to linger somewhere long enough.
So, I’d say that I use music in a repetitive but constantly evolving way, gently guiding rather than surprising the ear.
What can audiences expect at the world premiere; what feeling do you intend to communicate?
Audiences can expect a festival-style immersive piece. They can come as they are, and do not need to pay close attention the whole time. All they need to do is let the capable and sensitive musicians of Rubiks, and the voices of these women and girls, guide them into a half-hour musical hug.
Parting words?
Bring tissues!