BY JASSY ROBERTSON
Many composers and musicians will allow their art to speak for itself. Not always are they asked about their personal lives.
We think it’s important to give all individuals a platform to express their views – to speak openly about what shapes them, and tell us how they feel the world perceives them. We want to share stories that will help others express their individuality as they navigate a career anchored in past traditions.
This story comes when news of the postal plebiscite on same-sex marriage in Australia has made this an anxious and painful time for many in our country’s queer community. (You can learn more about how to cast your vote in the Australian Marriage Law Postal Survey on the AEC website. CutCommon respects the rights of all voters to have their say.)
In light of this survey and the impact it makes on our nation, we are proud to introduce LGBTQIA+ identifying composer Jesse Budel. Jesse wears many musical hats as composer, performer, sound artist, curator and arts entrepreneur. He has a strong philosophy about his compositional practice, and his queerness is one aspect that plays into his work. With a Carclew Fellowship and New Music Network LAB Mentorship, he’s touring the US and Canada for environmental music and sound art, and collaborating with Zephyr Quartet on an installation in Adelaide.
How do you feel your identity has affected your career in music?
I don’t at all buy into the dated notion that artists and their art can be separated into discrete entities. From the standpoint of my worldview, informed as much by science as spirituality – I’m a student of Tibetan Buddhism – all phenomena are involved in deeply entangled nexuses of relationships, and that obviously extends to the music-makers and their work.
The decisions made throughout the creative process are influenced by myriad factors of lived experience, personal insights and environmental conditions. These aspects of the creator become integral components of the creative act. If this is the case, then a queer composer’s musical work must involve aspects of their queer identity.
There’s been some discussion around this in recent decades, one such offering being a Guardian article written a couple years ago. It features a wonderful quote of Claude Vivier, where he suggests that his queer identity gives access to perspectives that “the heterosexual…doesn’t have the chance to encounter”. I find there’s something incredibly invigorating in that sentiment, where a cornucopia of creative possibility can emerge from our queer lived experiences.
I identify as bisexual, and I’ve come to wonder over the past few years in what ways my sexuality influences my work
I identify as bisexual, and I’ve come to wonder over the past few years in what ways my sexuality influences my work. Increasingly, I feel that various typified experiences articulated by multisexual people (both affirming and oppressive) have filtered through to my creative practice and work. I lean towards unconventional/nontraditional media or modes of presentation (whether it be trying to establish a ‘controversial’ Ruined Piano Sanctuary in my home town of Murray Bridge or burning pianos – homage to Ross Bolleter and Annea Lockwood, respectively – or community music events of the experimental vocal and MusiCircus variety), perhaps with an intent to dismantle barriers to people making and expressing themselves through music and sound art in whatever way is meaningful to them.
I’m also often keen to thread multiple levels of signification in my works, whether through extramusical ideas (a student orchestral piece combined different EDM styles, maths concepts and drug references) or real-world environmental contexts, ideally crafting a complex set of relationships in a piece that can be explored from multiple perspectives.
Increasingly, I’m interested in open scoring, generating a sort of flexible, antiphonal music where performers themselves become integral to the compositional result, intentionally queering my role as a composer.
Of course, these approaches aren’t the exclusive preserve of a queer composer, but I feel that my lived experience to date has inclined me to these ways of creating.
Though I’ve not explicitly made any ‘queer’ works to date, I’d very much like to, and would encourage other queer composers, and composers of marginalised identities, to consider projects that explore their experiences. The repertoire needs many perspectives and stories of people living outside the cultural hegemony that classical music has generated, of people from all walks of life.
What have been the career challenges, benefits, or impacts (either real, or perceived) of publicly expressing your identity?
Although growing up outside metropolitan Adelaide (I was born in Bordertown SA, and I grew up and currently live in Murray Bridge), I’ve been incredibly fortunate not to have had any major repercussions to my career. After coming out in my third year of uni through a Facebook relationship change, there weren’t any noticeable changes within my study circumstances or any setbacks with professional development opportunities, and that’s continued to this day.
In a certain way, there have been times where my identity has offered a degree of empowerment. Last year, I was invited to perform at a community domestic violence forum, held the day after IDAHOT, which was attended by the local electorate’s State and Federal members (both conservatively inclined). The focus, understandably and importantly, was predominantly centred on domestic violence experienced by women and children. But when it came time for my bracket, I felt the need to make particular reference to experiences of domestic violence in queer relationships and families. If not then, where there was a captive audience focused on the topic, then when?
There are many challenges faced by various groups within the queer community, and I feel it important to utilise the privileges I find myself with (as a cis man, and youth leader in my local community) to raise awareness and draw attention to issues faced by people in our community on a daily basis.
How would you describe the sense of community between LGBTQIA+ musicians or composers?
I can’t speak for everyone, but my experience of the musical LGBTQIA+ community has been quite positive. Perhaps because of the connections we make through seeking out our people in our school or work environment, or engaging with established organisations at the larger community scale, I find there’s a sense of camaraderie with fellow queer musicians wherever I go. Within the South Australian community, there are efforts by numerous queer musicians to provide performance opportunities for other queer artists, such as Dan Thorpe and Shoshana Rosenberg.
Whenever I’ve been interstate, too, I’ve often made serendipitous connections with other queer artists. These are hard to explain – there’s some form of connection, interest or attraction (platonic or sexual) where queer people are attuned to each other’s presences, and are able to acknowledge one another in a space, whether tacitly or through active engagement. The personal and professional connections I’ve made with other queer creatives are among the most treasured I have, and although our community isn’t without its internal struggles and gripes, I very much value the unique relationships that develop between and nourish us.
Are there other queer artists who influence your work, and who are they?
There are quite a few queer musicians who continue to influence my work. There are many people in the experimental approach – John Cage, Pauline Oliveros, and Meredith Monk, amongst others – whose works and philosophies have been quite influential. Though I haven’t heard as much of his music as I’d like, Julius Eastman’s stuff is pretty incredible. I’m also a bit of a sucker for the US/Canadian East Coast indie scene – Nico Muhly, Owen Pallett and Andrew Norman are some names that come immediately to mind. Music theatre-wise, Sondheim is a guilty pleasure.
Closer to home, I’ve a number of friends who are making incredible work. Dan Thorpe’s work has taken a passionate interest in championing queer narratives and perspectives, and Anthony Zatorski’s experimental vocal work is equally inspiring. Shoshana Rosenberg and Melissa McGrath also run an amazing project space, Reception, featuring various performances and installations by local and visiting queer artists.
What advice would you give to LGBTQIA+ identifying artists who hope to achieve their dreams in Australia?
- Develop meaningful relationships with your community – queer, musical and general alike.
- Take the initiative to make your own opportunities.
- Trust in your experience, which can be a wellspring of creativity.
- Take time to look after your physical, mental and spiritual wellbeing.
Find out more about Jesse’s career on his website, or follow his Facebook page.
Are you an LGBTQIA+ identifying artist and would like to share your story? Get in touch with us at editor@cutcommon.com.
Image supplied.
