VR music series 1: Don’t whistle, Masha by Alexey Sysoev

In flashes of light and sounds of a world driven by success — the human rises. The desire to get to know and understand oneself does not disappear even in the conditions of general anxiety and pressure. The contrasting reality hurts, but society values the masochistic drive of people. You can imagine standing above it all, but the world is moving forward without ridicule.

But that’s just one interpretation, listen and watch Don’t whistle, Masha (2020) for yourself here.

Text version of this interviewed is co-created by Laura Švītīņa.

Alexey Sysoev is a composer, performer, and improviser. Graduated from Moscow College of Improvised Music. He has composed music for theatre productions by Kirill Serebrennikov, Philipp Grigorian, dance company Gay&Rony Club (the Netherlands). He is a Golden Mask award laureate for Best Composer for Musical Theatre (“Full Moon’’ production by Philipp Grigorian, 2012). The musical piece Don’t whistle, Masha where virtual reality headsets were used, was premiered at Russian Music 2.0 programme initiated by Aksenov Family Foundation. Aksenov Family Foundation is a dynamic mobile platform that fosters cultural and social innovation and believes in the importance of culture for successful sustainable development of society.

Don’t whistle, Masha. What is the name about?

It’s a quote from Chekhov and nothing else. A non-memorable phrase from the very beginning of Three Sisters.

Why did you choose this particular phrase? There are many other quotes you could have chosen from Chekhov.

Tricky question (laughing). There are a few reasons. First, there is something ridiculous and absurd about it. Then, there is an aggressive element to it. I have used many high-pitched, aggressive sounds that are present throughout the play. There is constantly this aggressive whistling. Maybe that’s why

What was the reason for starting this composition?

It was a commission work to Aksenov Family Foundation as part of the project Russian Music 2.0. I’m very grateful for the financial support, because I could use some technical devices that I had wanted to try out for a while. For this reason, I invited my friends — sound designer Oleg Makarov and visual artist Petr Laden — who helped me work on my ideas.

How did you divide the responsibilities?

I gave them the main ideas: that it had to be three women wearing VR headsets; that there had to be mechanical objects that produced clattering, banging, or whatever sounds by themselves; and there had to be a video track for which I wanted to prepare some material myself. Petr Laden edited the videos and Oleg Makarov worked on customized technology based on Arduino.

Please watch the full interview here

What about the musicians?

The musicians were the Moscow Contemporary Music Ensemble (MCME) ­– two ladies on typewriters, a clarinet, a flute, a grand piano, and a synthesizer. There was also pre-recorded music material. Petr Laden was making the video in real time — mixing, adding glitches, etc. Dasha Zvezdina as a soloist, paradoxically, was not singing, not playing, but dancing. I wrote down all the moves for her. This is my second collaboration with her. The first one was a few years ago, when she took part in the performance of Dancing Queen. This was a more complex sequel to what I had tried to do then.

When you got the commission, did it say it had to be based on Three Sisters?

All the composers had absolute freedom. I had wanted to do two things for a while: first, the thing with Dasha dancing; and second, Three Sisters, for some reason. A year ago I got to work on the play 33 Sisters. I wanted to make 3,14 (Pi) Sisters, but then settled on three… maybe because when I was working on that other play, it also had this undefined element of aggression. The 33 girls shouting out their lines felt aggressive. I wanted to build on this idea.

What about the duration?

The duration was limited by the conditions of the project — 20 minutes.

What is the main message of this work?

I swear I would really like to answer that, but I can’t. What is the message in Ravel’s Boléro? You can’t answer that. I can speak about some degree of aggression, a feeling…

Why aggression?

This image of zombies was important to me: three zombies who mechanically and emphatically perform a task, of which we know nothing about because they are wearing the headsets. Let me tell you a secret. Originally, we could not choose, whether we should put the headsets on them, or tie their eyes, or put burqas on them.

VR headsets could be perceived very symbolically — as a critique of contemporary technology and the zombies of our time…

As an artist, I’m ambiguous about technology. At the same time, I like it and I’m certainly against it. I am very interested in situations where technology is not used the way it is meant to. For example, in experimental improvised music, electronics can be used in new ways: we use feedbacks, a no-input mixing board (when the mixing board is connected to itself, input to output) etc. I wanted to do something like that with this piece, too. But first and foremost, I wanted to create a piece that would musically satisfy both our classical musicians and the world of electronic music.

What was the idea behind the VR headsets?

I think that a blind or blinded person is an archetype of sorts… It is a strong image in art, and it moves you. Especially, when this person is performing some mechanical action. For me it was important that they were blinded and existed in a different reality at the same time. But also, the truth is — that is how they saw the score. I made a moving score for each performer and they followed it. This technology is not very good yet — we constantly had to adjust the scale and the focus. Still, it already works.

Please watch VR material for “Don’t whistle, Masha” here

What kind of headsets did you use? And what software did you use for the score?

They were the simplest cheap headsets; I don’t remember the brand. The software program I used was VR Cinema or something like that. There are many similar programs that break one image into two, so you can see it better. But this technology is still faulty. You just can’t see the text very well. The image is very basic. But I haven’t looked into that too much. I think visual artists who work with that professionally could tell you more. But I’m sure that this technology will be much better next year.

Did you think of the experience you want the audience to have?

Along with this zombie, automatism element, the visual beauty and lightning effects were important to me. Well, I think the three ladies are very beautiful. And as I was making the music, I was also thinking of what Dasha’s dance should be. I tried to plan it all in advance, although I’m not a choreographer or a visual artist. It seemed very important to me. We interpreted many moves later and in a very interesting way, which means, I can do things with a visual language that can inspire something.

Was it all very intuitive — the choreographic elements and body language?

Sure. I believe covering their eyes was important, but I don’t know why I thought of it. Maybe, it represents distancing: leave me alone. Her falling asleep is also an important moment. But I’m speaking about it so lightly because I’m not a professional in this area. I’m not a choreographer, so it’s easy for me. As a composer, of course, I’m more responsible for what I do.

What kind of software did you use to make the work and to show it onstage?

I’ve been working with this technology for a while but I’m not very good at soldering, so the things I had done before were very amateurish. But here Oleg Makarov helped me, and he’s a genius when it comes to these things. He made it all very simple: we put the score with audio and midi files through a sequencer (I believe It was Reaper), and via a USB cable those media tracks were fed into a machine built on Arduino that controlled 16 relays, four step motors and three lamps — as well as produced the click for the musicians to synchronise them and played a track through the speakers. He made this genius thing that allowed you to simply switch on any sequencer and playback midi files.

What were the key stages in the process of creating the piece?

Sometimes when writing a piece the flow of musical ideas stops and you hit a dead end. But here, it all worked out easily. Thinking about technology helped me. I thought, here I’m going to use light, and here nothing but light. It was a great creative push for me, I was excited about it at every step. Also, the planning of the dance moves for the soloist inspired me.

What was the process — did you start with an idea and then wrote a plan, created the sound or the VR thing?

It’s a simple but very good question. Yes, first I came up with these big ideas of using the headsets and technology. Then musical ideas followed the rhythm. They came together, other ideas came, it all grew and organized itself into a complete story.

And only then you started writing the piece?

It was like a production line — and I mean it in a good way. I was writing the score and at the same time listening to what I’ve already done and getting a new picture every day.

So when the idea comes, you immediately translate it into music, and then it keeps developing, right?

Yes. And what’s important is that things may emerge while you work that you wouldn’t have thought of originally. They can arise even from mistakes. And sometimes it can be something you wouldn’t have thought you could produce. It’s like having an algorithm and using it and often getting unexpected results. When I write music, I deliberately don’t try to completely control the result. I leave some things up to chance.

Photo by Svetlana Selezneva

During these two months, what were the biggest challenges for you as a composer?

Although I must admit that I used to be a jazz musician, and even played funk, I did study at a music conservatory — the place for intellectuals who do not content themselves with simple rhythms and harmonies. So I have this intellectual’s disorder — for a long time I could not allow myself to write a simple melody or a simple rhythm. Only now that I’ve grown all grey I allow myself to make simpler things.

How was the work with the musicians?

The main issues were with the three lovely soloists, as there were many technical problems to solve. We had to adjust the headsets and their eyesight is different, so I reworked the score several times until I found the right settings. Then, when you play, you only see the score but not your hands. At first I wanted the ladies who play the typewriters to hit the keys like this (shows), but then they could injure themselves and break the typewriters, so in the end they played more gently. With Dasha, we had a different problem: her dance is often very slow, and as she sees nothing but the score, she would sometimes forget where her face and hands were while slowly bringing her hands to her face.

Did the musicians contribute to the piece? Did they suggest ideas?

I always listen to musicians even with very strict scores. I am not perfect (nobody is) and two heads are better than one. I like to make corrections to the score during rehearsals and the first concerts. I did here as well, but nothing too radical, because this work does not require a romantic kind of attention, like Rachmaninov or Tchaikovsky. Everybody plays to the click, everything makes an even beat, so everybody has to be a bit of a robot. But the dedication of the soloists is remarkable: what they do is physically hard to do, and then they have to scream in the end, too.

What is the musical idea in this work? You said there are some quotes, some electronic music — what else?

You know, I’d say I was inspired by non-classical music. I love Miles Davis of the 1970s, for example. He has similar things. Ife, for example (sings), a kind of rock, or big beat. I wanted to make something similar that both audiences would consider a solid work. And most important, something I would be satisfied with. It’s a simple three-piece composition: first, it’s very rhythmical, then it falls apart, and then the rhythm returns and stays until the end. Within each part it’s all simple too. It’s all about some kind of simplicity, I guess.

Was that your main principle?

For me, yes. Simplicity. Although to feel it you need complexity as well. So in the beginning I created this rhythm… then it falls apart… and again it grows and grows, something else is added…it falls apart. There is this constant struggle against the listeners’ expectations. We all expect that there will be a rhythm, but at some point I turn around and say no — it’s not going to happen. That’s my key composer’s trick here, I guess. I’d like to go back to the most basic composer’s tricks. How does it work in Beethoven? Why is it so? Why do we find it interesting?

You say simplicity was one of your key principles. What were the others?

It was the main principle. But it’s not all that simple, as you see. Anyway, I wanted to achieve this simplicity. That was an attempt at that. That was a moment of sincerity for me, and a moment of overcoming myself, as we’ve discussed, which was difficult. Then, some artists have this continuity of discourse (in contemporary art and in art in general) and keep doing the same thing throughout their lives. But I want to keep changing. I’m scared of doing that, but I feel that it is often necessary. Not even like Miles Davis, or Stravinsky, who constantly evolved. Today I believe the time itself requires that we are one person today and someone else tomorrow.