Compositions

Sonata No. 1 for Solo Violin: Reflections is a sixteen-minute, four-movement work commissioned by my former violin teacher, Elbert Tsai. I chose the title Reflections because each movement reflects a different aspect of my personality and inner life. The first movement, Ballade Moderato, reflects the meandering nature of thought. When idle, ideas go in and out of existence with impermanence, and sometimes it is unclear when one ends and another begins. However, turbulence can arise when an idea gains momentum.

The Scherzo Rondo showcases my playful side. I often end up composing humorous pieces, and my composition teacher Arkadi Serper informed me that this movement contains the quintessential punchy, sarcastic, and ironic voice of mine. The slower Choral Adagio is more peaceful and melancholic. It is driven by a conflict between A major and B-flat minor, moving through moments of romance and turmoil. Then the Allegro Ostinato brings the sonata to a brief but furious conclusion. Its rage is mostly contained in 8th notes, but it breaks out into 16ths a few times.

Writing for a single unaccompanied voice has always felt more daunting to me than writing for multiple voices. Without an ensemble to distribute musical ideas across, I found myself continually pushing against the virtuosic capabilities of the violin in search of greater harmonic, textural, and expressive possibilities. As a result, Reflections became more technically demanding than I’d planned.

Safari is an adventure in arch format, starting and ending with basic striking sounds (open strings with tritones). The middle section is bursting with color, contrasting the mundanity of everyday life with pursuing adventure.

After some open strings at the beginning, the music melts into a lively organized chaos where the lengths of the chords are not bounded by bar lines, creating a sense of free motion through time. This sequence eventually climaxes into a more stagnant theme. The distribution of pulsing quarter notes between the 2 violins creates a flowing “forever-like” detached feeling akin to silent entrancement.

However, nothing is too peaceful for long—a set of fast and choppy chords leads into a rapid undercurrent of 16th notes punctuated by jabbing 4ths. After triplets lead to a large climax, the music recedes into a quiet and removed theme resembling the isolation and tranquility of being lost in a forest at night. The stagnant theme is then brought back, signifying the relief of seeing the sun rise. After reaching a triumphant C major, a series of choppy chords take us back to the open strings of the beginning, which drag on until they die out.

The inception of the Scherzando occurred about a year ago at midnight. I was composing a waltz that had sprung to mind earlier that day because I was sad. Once I had finished writing down the theme, though, I realized I was the only person awake in the house. This inspired me to compose in a ⅞ meter, and the notes started rushing out. The Scherzando came to my mind faster than I could write it down.

I feel like the Scherzando, of all my works, encompasses my personality and voice best. In fact, I would even describe it as a direct window into my thoughts. Musically, it mirrors the songs I would compose when I was younger and less acquainted with classical music. Since I was five, I have improvised and made up songs to portray the many stories I wrote about an imaginary world I called Ooyiyland. I have been told that my earliest compositions are also heavily influenced by the Ukrainian folk songs I listened to as a younger child.

In the Scherzando, there is a sense of adventure and contemplation; the harmonies shift as fluidly as the thoughts in one’s mind. The piece is in ⅞, which is usually divided into groupings of 2 and 3 eighth notes to form beats. The first theme in C♯ minor has a 3-2-2 grouping, while the second A minor theme is feistier and in 2-3-2. There are many moments in C major, which was and is my favorite key.

The Scherzando is the second movement of the five-movement “Dances for String Quartet,” along with the Waltz (fourth movement) I composed the same night.

The Ooy Song for Solo Violin is a theme and character variations based around a short melody I first composed at age seven while improvising on the piano. Back then, I composed music in order to convey the lore of my imaginary world named Ooyiyland. The melody the Ooy Song is based on conveys the wars the Ooys (the dominant species) waged against their enemies.

Years later, I returned to this early theme when my then-violin teacher, Elbert Tsai, invited me to compose a work to perform at his studio recital. When I started composing this piece and needed a name for its file, I absentmindedly typed “ooy song.” After I composed it fully, my composition teacher Arkadi Serper and I agreed that that it was the most fitting name for the piece.

Out of all my compositions, the Ooy Song best encapsulates the simplistic emotions I felt as a child. The theme of this piece is neutral with a slight melancholic undertone, while the first variation breaks into a more colorful and expressive sadness. The second variation experiences joy in C major, a key that always felt like home. The third variation expresses rage, and the fourth conveys fear and unfamiliarity.

After a feisty fifth variation, the theme is restated. At the end, it makes one last attempt to cling onto life before trailing into nothingness. I have often been told that my earliest compositions are reminiscent of Ukrainian folk songs, as those are what I often listened to as a child.

My cadenzas for Beethoven’s Violin Concerto were the first cadenzas I composed and the first original works I premiered before a large audience in a solo concert. My violin teacher, Elbert Tsai, encouraged me to write them after recognizing my interest and ability in composition. He often remarked that their unpredictability made them particularly engaging.

Writing for solo violin forced me to draw directly upon my technique as a violinist. The ability to write and perform virtuosically gave me greater freedom express the harmonies and textures I wanted to include. I later performed the third movement of Beethoven’s concerto with the Palo Alto Chamber Orchestra after winning its concerto competition using my own cadenza.