BY NATHAN LIOW
During my music studies, my piano teacher and mentor Tony Gould once referred to the period immediately following graduation as “a black hole”.
I didn’t quite understand what he meant at the time. I was in my final year of my Bachelor of Music. I had the wide-eyed optimism and enthusiasm for what was going to be my first years as “fully-fledged” musician – that going forward, I would surely be able to secure creatively satisfying gigs and work.
That was nearly 10 years ago.
I have since seen the “black hole” that Tony talked about. I guess I can liken it to Nolan’s Interstellar, in which the film’s protagonist Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) falls into a gorging black hole and sees distorted and incomprehensible reflections of himself, his past, and his future, bringing him to an existential meltdown.
The score was written by Hans Zimmer. I often thought of Zimmer and how to get work composing for film during my time swirling in my own black hole.
Fast forward to recent years, and I have worked for three film productions; one of which has graced the Melbourne International Film Festival screens. I have scored for online games, written music for and played for numerous TV and internet advertisements; and have twice been commissioned for works installed in gallery spaces.
How do I get work writing music?
Whilst I compose for work, I did not study a composition stream at university and cannot claim to “know the rep” the way a composition major would. I felt deeply underqualified and fraudulent moving into an industry in which I had to claim I was competent as a composer.
I was, however, competent in aural perception, harmonic understanding; I’d checked out a diverse range of music, and, on a good day, was very competent at the ivories. And these experiences served me well in my initial forays into working as a composer.
Here’s what I’ve learnt so far.
1. Write scores, but don’t wait for a film.
I was deeply obsessed with Zimmer’s scores for The Ring, The Dark Knight, and others from this era, and recall spending chunks of time breaking down these scores for my own interest. I explored problems and solutions presented by the visuals, editing, dialogue, and narrative – sometimes watching without audio. This led me to use these ideas in a Tropscore entry. Although I didn’t win, I directly reapplied these ideas some years later in Natalie James’ MIFF Official Selection and outstanding film Creswick.
Creswick (2016) Trailer from Natalie Erika James on Vimeo.
2. Connect outside your discipline.
Paul Grabowsky delivered a lecture at the Victorian College of the Arts about working in the film industry as a composer. Still with me today is his comment that, rather than hustling hard and networking to score the big gigs with the big-name directors, you should find good people around you whose upward journey mirrors your own, and foster friendships and mutual working partnerships with them.
Chronically introverted as I am, it still felt disingenuous to deliberately seek out people who I felt my career could springboard off – and so, for many years, I didn’t think more of his advice. But looking back, much of the work I have done, that I am proud of, and that has graced gallery spaces, film festivals, games and TV, has all been through people whose company I first and foremost enjoy and whose work I respect.
Many of these friends once were musicians or art students and are now curators, filmmakers, animators, conductors; operate agencies, record labels, and theatres. And they all know others in the field who would at some point be looking you up for music work.
3. Create the work for others as well as yourself.
The reason my black hole was, in fact, a black hole, was because I was waiting around for opportunities to come to me. Facebook was constantly notifying me whenever someone I knew was exhibiting, scoring, or launching some exciting new thing (or even just working with killer musicians who weren’t calling me). My black hole was swirling with ever-increasing rate and mass.
I decided to book my own shows, and became the person who called others to offer work. I challenged myself to instigate work: arranging, assembling and leading bands that took to various stages (small and large), which earned us all some coin (small and large).
Things led on, sometimes in serendipitous ways. I got involved with a small, indie film project with director and writer friends who I’d known for years, and whose company I enjoyed during the process of creating our own work. This led to tangible credits, and evidence of my work online, which finally resulted in my first paid film scoring gig. It was through the sound tech that I got the gig, who I met because I decided to go on set.
4. Provide evidence.
Anything you do that isn’t created in a studio has a transient quality about it. The only reason I can lay claim to my musical work with MIFF, or West Space gallery, or now Incinerator Gallery, is that I did documentation which graced the internet. I have no idea how often I have been called because I looked competent online because of previous work, but it can’t be a bad thing to provide evidence of your work.
Most recently, a friend with whom I studied music, who is now an arts curator and commissioned me for a work in 2014, put me in touch with another curator through whom I got my most recent commission Music For Eyes. It is a collaboration with Canadian social-practice artist Carmen Papalia, and explores the dominance sight plays in art.
It has been such a nourishing experience to feel creatively involved in something that can still be considered “work”. Music For Eyes opened at Incinerator Gallery on April 6 and runs til May 22.
After then, my black hole will surely begin to swirl again. But, as long as I can help it, it will not swirl for long.
Music For Eyes will be the topic of a presentation by Nathan Liow at Incinerator Gallery at 2pm April 21. Music For Eyes will soon be available through Bandcamp, iTunes, Google Play, and Spotify. Visit Nathan’s website to learn more about him.
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