The “Glimpse Series” offers a closer view of the AAR community’s current Rome Prize winners by delving further into their studios or studies, their daily routines or work in progress. The scholarly and artistic work being pursued continues to be as varied as the fellowship recipients themselves. The following “Glimpse” focuses on Lei Liang, an associate professor of music at the University of California, San Diego, and the Elliott Carter Rome Prize Fellow in Musical Composition.
Describe a particularly inspiring moment or location you've experienced in Rome thus far.
I had a very special experience when my wife, Takae Ohnishi, and I took a mosaic-making course in the neighboring Trastevere district. In this class, one starts by cutting marble into tiny pieces, then one draws designs, mixes cement, cuts wood, and makes frames.
You can never expect what the exact outcome will be once the hammer strikes the marble: there are always surprises. Yet, these irregular, nongeometric materials are the building blocks of the artwork. For me, the entire process is refreshingly messy and dirty. It forces the artist to engage in a dynamic and constant dialogue with the basic materials which are full of unpredictability. The process taught me a lot about art making in general and made me reflect on my own creative processes.
Takae is a Baroque harpsichordist. While here at the Academy, we learned from the classicist Sandro La Barbera, another AAR Fellow, that the words “mosaic” and “music” both derive from the Latin word Musa, meaning “of the Muses.” This led us to think that the little pieces of marble can be placed together and form a part of a larger design in the same way musical notes become melodies, harmonies, and sonorities. And now music making has assumed new meanings for us!
To what extent, if any, has your proposed project changed since your arrival?
Perhaps due to the wonderfully stimulating environment we have in Rome, I am composing more than I had originally proposed. I planned to write two compositions over our eleven-month stay at the Academy and within three months into my residency, I had already finished three new pieces.
The latest piece was inspired by snow. Soon after our arrival, we visited the magnificent Santa Maria Maggiore—one of the seven pilgrimage churches and also one of the four patriarchal basilicas of Rome. It was built on the spot where snow had miraculously appeared in August, according to Pope Liberius’s vision of the Virgin Mary.
In a discussion with the AAR Fellow and writer Matt Donovan, I learned about the snow in Issa’s haiku and in Joyce’s Dubliners. This led me to think about how snow is characterized in Chinese literature and it seems to embody diverse messages: innocence, silence, pain, playfulness, longing, solitude, fantasy, redemption....
My piece “Messages of White” was premiered at Carnegie Weill Recital Hall on February 3, 2012, in New York. On that very day, snow fell in Rome and it turned out to be the heaviest snowfall in twenty-five years. I don’t think I have encountered anything quite as serendipitous.
How have you managed the balance between your work and engagement with Rome and Italy? This balance is never the same for any two Fellows.
A highlight of the Fellowship is its family-friendliness. In fact, if it was not family-friendly, we wouldn’t have been able to come here.
Takae and I live with our two-year-old son Albert in an apartment in Building 5B, where all the fellows with children reside. We’re very involved parents and love watching him learn every new word, and sing each new song. To see him grow up at the American Academy is a privilege we can never be grateful enough for. It’s an amazing community where the children become playmates and families become close friends.
I had to be away for ten days earlier this year and while I was gone, Takae and Albert received a lot of support from our Academy neighbors and friends. We were extremely moved—without them, I don’t think we could have managed the challenging situation. This aspect of our Fellowship will be one of the most memorable, and I can’t tell you how thankful we are for it.
Our daily routine is this: After dropping off Albert at preschool early in the morning, Takae and I have our “date” in a neighborhood café in Monteverde Vecchio. It’s a refreshing moment of the day—precious relaxation time just to ourselves—and the café (Dolci Desideri) is probably our favorite place to hang out on the planet at the moment! We return to the Academy to work for a couple hours before picking up Albert from school at noon. Then we work more when Albert takes his nap in the afternoon. The little guy gets up around 5:30am each morning, so working at night isn’t an option.
What's your favorite dish in the RSFP kitchen?
The fried cauliflower. It’s truly dangerous, as I am very vulnerable to its delicious taste and intriguing texture—and can’t stop eating once it appears on the table!