Soosan Lolavar on writing the piece

“To achieve great things, two things are needed; a plan and not quite enough time.” – Leonard Bernstein.

Oh Len, (can I call you Len?) how right you were. And never has this quote rung more true than at this moment. I am currently writing the piece of music that will mark the closing of our Stay Close project and cannot help but feel a huge sense of reponsibility hanging over me. There are huge technical challenges to writing a piece for a mixed ensemble of Iranian and Western instruments, including: musicians’ differing relationships to improvisation and notation; microtones; the role of each instrument in the ensemble; the sonic influences on the piece and the heritage from which it draws; and how to write for an instrument outside of the musical culture in which you operate. More than this, the project is much greater than an average commission as it so intricately tied to both the people I have met and the experiences I have enjoyed over the last eight months working with musicians, composers and community members in both Iran and the UK. Thus, the blending of Iranian and Western musical styles presents not only a technical challenge but is also a deeply personal process through which I reconcile my Iranian and British identities.

My relationship with Iran (and my own Iranianness) has been tumultuous to say the least. After a childhood spent attending language classes – managing the truly impressive feat of learning almost no Farsi – and yearly trips to Iran to see my family, at the age of 16 I exerted my adolescence and rejected the country altogether. For the next 9 years, I would skillfully sidestep speaking with my Iranian family on the phone so they could not ask me when I would be visiting them again.

Iran and I had fallen out. Iran was complex, difficult, tiring and hard work, none of which appealed to me as a 16-year old growing up in South London. Oddly, I never once stopped speaking about myself as British-Iranian – my name making the revelation almost inevitable. The label remained, but my willingness to cultivate my Iranian identity (the kind of daily work that all mixed-heritage individuals know is essential) had disappeared.

It is against this backdrop, and ten years later, that Stay Close was born as part of a wider process of rebuilding my relationship with Iran. Here, the composing process stands as a tool for asking and answering questions about Iran and my relationship with it. Practically speaking, I have two more months to complete a 15-minute commission. Yet in reality the practice-as-self-exploration process extends far beyond my April deadline. As always, there is just not enough time and I do not expect to have any or even some of the answers to my questions by the date of performance. So, as with most things, Bernstein was spot on and I will just have to stick to my plan and hope for the best. At least I can aim to write a piece that fulfills my artistic ambition and is well-received, let’s hope faring slightly better than that discussed in another of my favourite composer quotes:

“Listening to the fifth symphony of Ralph Vaughan Williams is like staring at a cow for 45 minutes.” – Aaron Copland

Photograph: Maximilan Hetherington