Rescuing ELPIS - Fanfare Magazine Interview & Review Of ELPIS

Rescuing Elpis: The Powerful, Questioning Music of Christen Lien
By Colin Clarke

The new disc by Christen Lien, ELPIS, is a tour de force of the imagination. For her deep consideration of the ramifications of Greek myth, plus her extension of the story of Elpis, Lien is able to call on a huge vocabulary of sound and expression. Her soulful viola is the thread through this intoxicating maze.

When embarking on my research for this interview, I did an internet search for you—the first thing that comes up is “provocative composer.” Is this something you cultivate?

Composer is a role that I deeply identify with, and “provocative” was an adjective that was given to me over the years by fans and colleagues. I appreciate the descriptor because in my work I do try to confront deep emotions, complex ideas and themes.

May I ask about your background? Are you classically trained?

I am indeed classically trained. I began playing the viola at eight years old after watching and hearing my older brother practice on his viola for a few years, which was the seed of my fascination and obsession with music and the viola. Throughout school I played in several orchestras, from local orchestras with the school system to regional orchestras, to more prestigious institutions such as the Cleveland Orchestra Youth Orchestra and the National Youth Guild Symphony. Looking back, I have so much appreciation for being classically trained because the discipline and required mastery of techniques and theory have been a powerful and unwavering foundation for my current work. It was amazing to perform in grand concert halls in my youth, such as Severance Hall and the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, and have the opportunity to study closely with members of the Cleveland Orchestra. What a blessing!

Some sources describe you as a “storyteller,” and you certainly tell one here with your most recent album ELPIS. In this piece you construct an alternate (or expanded, possibly) mythology, bringing Elpis to life, as you say in a Huffpost article, via the sound of your viola. Elpis was the one who could not escape Pandora’s Box in Greek legend; you facilitate her escape into contemporary reality and speculate on her adventures thereafter, while also implying that we might not like what we want so much.

So, what was the message behind this you were intending? Elpis is the Goddess of Hope, and one might argue the world needs an injection of that at the moment, after all … (feel free to retell Elpis’s legend in your own words if you wish).

The story I wrote about Elpis is an expansion of her myth from the existing mythology. In Greek mythology, the story of Elpis is brief. After Prometheus stole fire from Mount Olympus, Zeus created a curse to punish both Prometheus and mankind. For man, his curse was that “they may all be glad of heart while they embrace their own destruction,” an excerpt from Hesiod’s Work and Days.

Zeus then created the first woman, Pandora, and the evils that resided in Pandora’s Box. Elpis was one of those evils. Many Greek storytellers and philosophers felt that hope was one of the most grievous evils of all, so when the time came when the lid would be removed from Pandora’s Box, Elpis was ordered to be the last to leave, being the heaviest of the bunch. Unfortunately, when Elpis attempted to fly out, Pandora placed the lid back onto the container before she could escape and Elpis has been trapped in Pandora’s Box ever since. That’s where the ancient Greeks left it.

My album scores this back story but also continues it from there, depicting how Elpis escapes Pandora’s Box, enters our modern world, and reunites with all of the original evils that were in Pandora’s Box with her.

I found both the character of Elpis to be fascinating, and this mythological cliffhanger to be a wonderful opportunity to explore a concept that I think is critical in this moment in time: that there is a spectrum to hope, and as a culture we have never been taught to think critically about hope. And we need to now more than ever.

Through research I learned that it was Christianity that turned hope into a virtue. The Buddhist and Taoist perspectives, on the other hand, view hope as a state of desire and attachment, which is a state of mind that removes people from the present moment and their highest self. Learning this and more sent me on a very deep and curious journey. I read many books that held numerous perspectives about hope, and interviewed psychologists, leading thinkers and academics, suicide experts, even formerly incarcerated men and women. It was a fascinating education.

What I learned is that there is a spectrum, that hope is not always the most empowering state of mind, depending on context and circumstances. And perhaps more importantly, I learned that hope is perhaps the most important tool of political propaganda, advertising, and mass manipulation. This latter point motivated me to create this project, ELPIS, and the goal is to spark a dialogue about the spectrum of hope, including the dark side of hope.

I am not anti-hope nor a hopeless person. It’s important to be non-dualistic when considering the thesis of this project. And in all moments of existence, including this moment in history, we do need hope. It is a part of life and knowing hope is a part of being human. But after all I have learned about the topic, I have certainty that there is a dark side to hope, and realized that this is a conversation we have never had collectively as a society. There is a blind spot in how we view hope, and I see this blind spot clearly. The goal of the ELPIS project is not to rail against hope, but reveal this blind spot through art, poetry, music, and live performances, and let people examine for themselves what the best relationship to hope is in their lives, from a truly objective, educated and thoughtful place.

Your music seems to be able to refer to a wide range of musics, yet it remains completely individual. I found myself thinking of Shostakovich in the barren viola solo in “Fog of Fear,” for example. How would you react to readings such as that one?

I’m honored that you thought of Shostakovich when listening to “Fog of Fear”! And that said, he specifically was not a major influence on my sound. Classically speaking, the composers that had the biggest influence on me were Bach, Mozart, Dvořák, Sibelius, Liszt, Beethoven. Schubert, Brahms, and Chopin. And contemporary music has had an equal influence on me as well, from Radiohead to Led Zeppelin and Nine Inch Nails to Bob Dylan or even electronic dance music and Latin-influenced sounds. I love many different genres, and my work is a fusion.

The quote on the album indicates this is a meditation on the nature of memory (“What will we remember….”)—the way that we all remember the same events differently, or how an event’s memory might not represent, in time, the event itself. How would you enlarge on that? Memory is, after all, a vital component of listening to music. For me, one implication might be that all (“reality”) is an illusion—by no means a new concept, but a powerful one….

Great question, and I like your interpretation. I leave the answer on memory up to you ultimately, but what I wanted to invoke in that opening line “What will we remember?” from the ELPIS poetry collection (reproduced in the booklet) is that we often subjectively choose what we remember from our lives and from history, whether we do this consciously or subconsciously.

And also in relation to memory, I note you have recently rereleased your debut album Battle Cry on vinyl—was that an attempt to recontextualize your earlier work in relation to the now?

Rereleasing my debut album Battle Cry was such a pleasure, and I did it for a few reasons. Primarily, I have learned so much about production and sound since I first recorded Battle Cry. With the tools and resources I now have, I wanted to refine the original recordings in regards to the mix and mastering of the tracks. The tracks were not changed in any way; the quality of the recordings was improved. In addition, this year I created vinyl records of my work, and to improve the sound of Battle Cry was part of that process. Doing this was a way to honor this album, which is a body of work that I still love dearly and has taken me far.

The poetry you provide with each movement is in itself remarkable. Can you tell me about your creative process? Words first or music, or do they arrive simultaneously—or is one the result of the other?

Storytelling plays a lead role in how I arrange songs. Every composition has some sort of narrative or emotional goal behind it, and I have the clearest direction with the arrangement of each composition once I know the intellectual or emotional point I want to make with the song.

As I was making ELPIS, I was simultaneously doing the research and interviewing around hope. As this was happening, a few of the lines from the poetry were created, ideas and questions that came to me while learning. I saved those poetry lines, knowing that once I finished recording the album, I wanted to create something that was in Elpis’s voice that would help tell the narrative of the project.

The collection of poems that accompany each song is told from Elpis’s perspective, sharing her most personal insights and feelings as she figures out how to escape Pandora’s Box and enters our modern world.

You are a storyteller in sound—but also in words. I found your description of “Why Viola” on your website beautiful on multiple levels. The message of ELPIS is hope. The movement “The Missing” seems decidedly folkloric—is that a direct quote (it’s like the melody is on the tip of my tongue) or is it designed to imply a fantasy world of hope?

I love “The Missing” very much; the song is both comforting and folkloric to me as well. Regarding its narrative function in the project, this is the moment after Elpis escapes when she longs for something familiar while in this new and unfamiliar world, which is to reunite with the other evils that were in Pandora’s Box with her (which in my story are her siblings, since they were all created together). “The Missing” is about longing for that which is familiar and comforting, even if it is as dysfunctional as evil siblings. It certainly embodies a mood and hint of hope in the composition.

Enlarging on the concept of hope in a Huffpost article, you talk of “flavours” of hope, how hope and fear are related via expectation and how hope has now become a drug; and yet how it can also transform fear into something greater, more positive. It strikes me the disc ELPIS is there to raise as many, if not more, questions than it answers. Would you agree?

I am so pleased you came to this conclusion! There are a few guiding principles that I established with myself and my creative collaborators on this project, and the first one listed is that this is a project that asks more questions than gives answers.

Again, my goal is to expose a blind spot in our culture and spark a dialogue, and point out how it is used in mass manipulation. Hope is something so incredibly personal to people and I do not have the audacity to tell you how or what to think. I would prefer everyone come to their own conclusions on hope. But I do want to ask the hard questions and offer some fresh perspective so that we can all be wiser about hope, so that we are not unknowingly manipulated by hope’s immense power.

Hope is incredibly powerful and important when life becomes truly hard. I will never deny its importance during hard times, and life can be hard indeed. What is important is to understand its influence on our hearts, and not get duped or seduced when it is used to manipulate, whether that be from outside sources or by our own imperfect minds. It is a fine line, and individuals must come to their own conclusion. I am simply the provocateur, the storyteller, dare I say the muse.

I’m intrigued and inspired by your activities, too: the amendment you pursued successfully in Michigan defending artists’ rights. Could you tell us more on that?

This was an incredible experience and also a much longer story. I will try to summarize it as simply as I can.

From 2005 to 2008 I was the executive director of the Ann Arbor Film Festival, and immediately after I became the director I was in a censorship battle with the State of Michigan. There were some individuals trying to get elected to the state Senate and were trying to make a name for themselves, and sent out press releases taking a stand against government funding of the arts, and named the content of the Ann Arbor Film Festival as an example why the arts should not receive funding. The films listed came before my time since I had just been hired, but I was at the helm nonetheless.

In reaction, the State’s arts granting agency, in a political panic, revoked approved funding to the AAFF per the request of politicians—and the reason they were legally able to do this is because of content restrictions that were enforced in the application for arts funding. I learned from the ACLU [American Civil Liberties Union] that those content restrictions in the application violated the First Amendment. In short, in partnership with the ACLU, the Ann Arbor Film Festival sued the state of Michigan for violating the First Amendment and the goal of the legal case was to have these guidelines removed.

After creating international awareness of this lawsuit and garnering incredible support from the press, international film community, and local Michigan community, the state of Michigan settled out of court, and the guidelines were removed for all artists seeking government funding for their work.

There are so many other details I’d love to share about this story, but it would take over the whole interview! It was an incredible experience that garnered so much learning and growth for me personally. When I resigned, the board of directors and staff all chipped in and bought me the samurai sword that is on the cover of Battle Cry. I’ll always be grateful for this intense moment in my life.

It’s like your message of freedom and, indeed, hope, filters out in numerous, diverse ways … avenues that extend from TEDx (“Empathy and Malice”; also at Oaxaca City) to performing in front of His Royal Holiness the Dalai Lama of Tibet. How did the audience with the Dalai Lama come about? And in a more general sense, do you feel your message is being heard?

The experience of performing for the Dalai Lama was incredible! It’s a great story—while I was playing he came right up to the stage to watch what I was doing because he had not seen a classical instrument played with pedals and looping machines before. In the end he loved what I was doing and blessed my music … unforgettable. The opportunity came about by a friend who was involved with the event behind the scenes. When she heard that they were looking for a musician to perform while the Dalai Lama entered the room, she immediately reached out to me with the invitation. What was also incredible was the moment I was invited to perform for the Dalai Lama, I was performing for an event for the Obama White House called the United State of Women. That was quite a week.

And yes, I do feel like my message is being embraced. I have performed for many fascinating influential events and people, and what I see most in these invitations is that I am given a lot of freedom to not only perform the songs I want to perform, but also to say what I am inspired to say. It is clear that I am receiving a lot of trust when I am given a platform in front of audiences, and it’s something that I appreciate and never want to take for granted. And you are correct, in the end the message I come with is a path to finding freedom.

And in the future, how are you planning to expand on your work? And while we’re at it, what plans for the future in recording terms?

Yes of course, I’m always thinking about the next project. I am excited about collaborations across genres, and recently released a remix of The Escape created by Juan Atkins, the pioneering originator of Techno. I’m also doing a hip hop remix with the Gordon “The Commissioner” Williams, the acclaimed producer who has won multiple Grammys and worked across genres with the likes of Lauren Hill, Carlos Santana, KRS-One, Alicia Keys, and Amy Winehouse, just to name a few. He’s a musical soul mate, and I’ll likely be in NYC a good portion of 2018 working with him. I’m also really inspired by the emerging media landscape, bringing my concepts, music and performances into the world of content designed for virtual and augmented reality. And, finally add that from a story perspective, the ELPIS album is really the score of act I—what the Goddess of Hope decides to do next is a reality begging to be revealed.

LIEN Elpis • Christen Lien (va, bs gtr, harmonica, looper, treatments, breath); Jamie Hill (Moog, Kurzweil, Korg, drum programming, samples, sound design); Adam Lopez (kd); Nico Mansy (additional programming); Amy Walker, Danielle Barnett (voc) • CHRISTEN LIEN 859717429211 (55:19)

This music is simply fascinating, and beyond a doubt rewards repeated listening, revealing layer upon layer. Christen Lien is a born storyteller, and the tale she has picked is that of the character Elpis, the Greek goddess of hope who was trapped by Zeus in Pandora’s Box. In this version, Lien frees Elpis after examining the Goddess’s yearnings for freedom in detail, unleashing her on contemporary society. Each section of Elpis has accompanying poetry reproduced in the booklet, words of an equal beauty to that of the music we hear.

Listeners may find Lien’s music difficult to categorize, perhaps finding a filmic slant to the opening Prologue in its raw, primal percussion (perhaps also finding Minimalism in the looping patterns of its opening), and perhaps, like me, hearing Shostakovich in “Fog of Fear.” One thing is for certain: Lien continually confounds expectation. The movement entitled “The Escape” is decidedly not heart-on-sleeve dramatic, as its title might imply; rather, it exudes a sense of contained urgency that is most effective. Lien’s music really is hypnotic, and not just in her use of patterns; there is an underlying tension spun through the core of the experience of Elpis that just will not let go.

The sheer beauty of “Love of Fate,” the second movement, is remarkable. This music is unutterably fragile and beautiful, the melodies extending themselves like a spider spinning its web. In terms of sonic imagination, it is arguably “Bitter Majesty,” the work’s third panel, that reveals just what Lien is capable of. The subtle alterings of instrumental sounds over an ongoing, insistent bass rhythm are stunning; the viola sings its lines with heartfelt intensity. Here, the protagonist presents a statement (“Dear Zeus,” it begins) which, in its musical flowering, blossoms out into multiple lines pleading concurrently for release. The music indeed tells a story from first to last; the layering on of the poetry identifies that story allowing us to link into the tension of “Family Reunion,” the penultimate movement, and to the erotically charged final “The Waltz,” with its shadowy, expressive viola line.

The vocalist Amy Walker in “Vanishment” is perfectly chosen: Her wordless voice is almost instrumental in timbre at the opening, melding into the texture flawlessly. From first to last, Lien’s soundscape is perfectly imagined, with Jamie Hill’s work enabling that sound to resonate freely and beautifully.

Production values are sky-high. From the design of the product, to the web presence, to the faultless recording, it is impossible to imagine a finer realization of Christen Lien’s noble yet enigmatic conception. Colin Clarke