Yuri Lee

Learn more about ECI!

From June 26th–July 6th, I traveled to Hidden Valley in beautiful Carmel Valley, California, for what is aptly described as a "festival of collaboration." Each of the ten selected composers arrived with a newly written chamber work, which was rehearsed, refined, and developed throughout the week before receiving a wonderful premiere and professional recording at the festival's conclusion.

This summer’s composition faculty was incredible: Steven Mackey, Sarah Kirkland Snider, Amy Beth Kirsten, and Alistair Coleman. Each led seminars on their compositional process and offered invaluable career advice, in addition to one-on-one lessons where we revised our chamber works and discussed previous compositions. To spend each day surrounded by composers of this caliber—who were not only extraordinary artists but also unbelievably kind, generous, and supportive—and to be able to pick their brains about new musical ideas while learning from their experiences was an invaluable opportunity.

Unlike most festivals I have attended, the composers were also mentored by the incredible performers. At every rehearsal, they offered thoughtful and honest feedback on our writing for their instruments, introducing us to new technical possibilities while suggesting practical notation improvements. The collaborative process was refreshingly open and candid, pushing me to write music that is not only playable, but that truly captures the unique character of each instrument, allowing it to elevate my musical ideas to a new level of emotional depth.

Learn more about my piece, In This Short Life!

I was also inspired by the remarkable diversity of musical philosophies and compositional styles represented among the ten composers. It was wonderful to reunite with composer friends from previous festivals—Cashel, Alex, and Toussaint—while also forming new friendships with Catherine, Vivian, Mitchell, Ealaf, and Yangfan.

Young composers, you can have this experience too. Apply!

Now that we have spent a week together, everyone knows that ich liebe Eier! So no one would be surprised that my reaction upon spotting a giant egg across the street from Augustusplatz, was:

After a moment of fangirling and enthusiastic picture-taking, however, another thought occurred to me: Why is there an egg in the middle of the city? 

According to my research, the egg has a name: Demokratieglocke, or The Democracy Bell. Standing only 10cm shorter than me at 150cm, it commemorates the Friedliche Revolution (“Peaceful Revolution”), a series of political protests in 1989 against the communist regime in East Germany, the GDR. These demonstrations ultimately contributed to the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany, and Leipzig played a particularly important role in the movement, serving as one of its major gathering places.

The monument, created by German artist Via Lewandowsky, is relatively new, unveiled on October 9, 2009 for the 20th anniversary of the Monday Demonstration of October 9, 1989.

If it’s a “bell,” does it ring?

Yes! It reliably chimes every Monday night at 6:35pm in remembrance of the beginning of the Monday Demonstration. On all other days, however, it sounds at random times for a random number of strikes within each hour between 8am and 8pm. In other words, don’t rely on the Demokratieglocke to tell the time.

When I first saw it, I was too preoccupied to notice words engraved in the granite ring around the egg. Apparently the inscription is a haiku by German lyric poet , essayist and translator Durs Grünbein:

“Demokratie ist – in unendlicher Nähe – längst sichtbar als Kunst”
(“Democracy is – in infinite proximity – long visible as art”)

But what does an egg have to do with democracy?

There seem to be several interpretations. An egg is often a symbol of new life and rebirth. Some point to the idiom sich ein Ei legen (“to lay an egg on oneself”), which colloquially means to create a problem for oneself that will eventually come back to haunt you. Others see the golden egg as a nod to the way many East Germans once viewed the West, as something golden and full of promise.

This blog is a public service announcement in favor of more peculiar artwork and monuments scattered throughout our cities. Not only do they add a sense of wonder to everyday commutes, but they also spark curiosity, which I believe is the best doorway to exploration and learning. Education and the preservation of history need not exist only in books or on Google; they can live in our physical environments as well. In an age of technology and constant stimulation, perhaps we need more reminders to look up, ask questions, and learn something new.

The next time I visit the egg, I will imagine myself standing amidst the Monday Demonstration: 70,000 people around me, candles in their hands and prayers on their lips, gathered peacefully in pursuit of freedom.

Sources:

• https://www.familyadventureproject.org/leipzig-bell-democracy-bell/
• https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demokratieglocke 

I am thrilled to share that I have been named this year’s winner of San Francisco Choral Artists’ New Voices Project for Composers Under 30! I’m deeply grateful and excited for the opportunity to have my choral work brought to life by SFCA this summer.

Although my classical training has focused primarily on composition and violin—with singing as a secondary but longstanding part of my musical life, shaped by seven years in the choirs of the Juilliard Preparatory Division—I discovered an unexpectedly profound connection to choral music at Princeton, where I’ve had the joy of performing with several vocal ensembles, including the Princeton University Glee Club, Chamber Choir, Vocal Consort, Decem, and the Princeton Footnotes. I am especially grateful to Gabriel Crouch and Mike McCormick for their inspiring direction and mentorship over the past three years, which have shaped my growth not only as a singer, but also as a choral composer.

Image