 Hello. Hello. My name is Taylor Mack. This is Guelsy Bell. Hello. And Guelsy is a harp artist at the Hero Arts Center, and I've been doing a series of interviews with the harp artists, asked them about their projects, about their art, and their philosophy of life. And if you don't know about harp, it's a program where the Hero Arts Center has resident artists, and they get to work on a piece for a number of years, whatever works for the artist. It could be a year or it could be four years, five years, whatever, you know, depending on the project and how big it is and what it needs and the process and what happens in the world and all of those things. And sometimes they produce it completely. Sometimes they co-produce. Sometimes they do a bunch of different combinations of all of that. And also the harp artists have breakout sessions and workshops for a number of years where they can talk to other artists and figure out how, how do you write a grant? How do you do this? How do you do that? How do you make the budget? So you kind of learn how to be a self-producer. And sometimes, and it's different people, people who have been producing for years on their own and don't need that kind of help, like, are there to help other people. And then, and people that are just starting out, you know, so it's a real combination of a lot of different kinds of artists. I'm all really kind of wonderful. There's an emphasis on hybrid, whatever that means to you. And Gelsie is here. She's a composer, a performer, an actor. I mean, you describe yourself. Describe yourself. Those are all adjectives that I use. Yeah. I guess they're actually nouns. Yeah, I mean that, and I'm a scholar. I guess sometimes you can throw in sound artist, supervisor, but yeah. And when you say you're a scholar too, what do you mean specifically? Like, you're just a scholar of life or specifically you're... I have a PhD in performance studies and I edit for two academic journals and I teach and I publish articles sometimes about art. Yeah. And we met during the, I think the very first workshop. It was the first. Comet, the great Comet of 1812, Natasha and Pierre, Dame Alois-Pete at Ars Nova. And you were wonderful in the workshop and I went on and did other things and you stuck with it. So before we launch into the other things, I did want to ask you just because I haven't seen you since then really. What was that experience like to go from workshop to the Ars Nova production, which you were wonderful in? And then I think you did the Off-Broadway production too, right? I did, yeah. And then the Broadway production, which you were also wonderful in. So what was that like? I mean, it's wild. It's like a decade of your life. Totally, yeah. It's really wild to be with a piece for that long. Yeah. Two workshops and just like Off-Off-Broadway, Off-Broadway, in Boston and then on Broadway. Yeah. I mean, yeah, you really see like, you learn about the different venue forms, the different sizes by seeing how a show keeps getting translated and what stays and what doesn't and yeah, it was quite an education. Did it change your understanding of your own work or what you want to or how you want to work doing the experimental, you know, Off-Off-Off-Broadway version all the way to the Broadway version and doing eight shows a week as opposed to, you know, in more experimental work we tend to get at the most 16 shows, you know? Yeah, totally. So what is that like? Yeah, for sure. I mean, I guess I, I mean, I'm sure you have opinions about this too. I definitely feel like Broadway has its, its perks and its limits, just in terms of like what it can, what it can give you and what it encourages of an artist. So it's not something that I feel is calling to me. At this point in my career. But exciting to have had the experience. Oh yeah, I mean, and I wouldn't have known that otherwise. And I certainly learned, I mean, I grew a lot as a performer because you just perform eight times a week for a year and you, it's just a whole never level of how to get through just performing day after day. So yeah, I mean, I learned a huge amount in, in terms of being a performer. And in terms of being a writer, I feel like I just it confirmed for me my love for people who support new things, the making of new things of intimate small spaces. Yeah, yeah. And I wanted to ask you kind of about that. How, to what degree is the, is the exploration the art for you? Does that make sense that question? Yeah, totally. Yeah, I mean, I'm not someone. I, I'm not someone who feels like once you premiere the piece it's over. I'm definitely more of the, the creed of write some music, tour it everywhere, learn about it as you keep performing it over and over again, and eventually you learn what it is. So that process of learning what it is, which requires being in front of an audience doing that a lot, is a huge part of the process for me. And most of my work just does it like, you know, I've never had a multi month run of something. So I haven't gotten to the point where I'm not still like developing and learning in performance for them, you know, for the most part. Yeah. And is that, is that not necessarily the commercial model? But is that thing where you take a piece of yours on the road and you tour it and you do two nights in every city in the world, you know, is that appealing as a way to grow that or are you more interested? I mean, it's appealing. I haven't really done that too much the way like a rock band does. Yeah. It's, you know, with the way my career has ended up, it's more often like, you know, do it at a festival in Paris, and then a month later do it at the small thing in New York, and then a week later do it at another place in New York, you know, or yeah, as opposed to just that be it be in a van and go across the country for two months. But I think that can be fun. I feel like I maybe should have done that in my 20s. Yeah. Well, we all kind of felt like that. So, so I want to talk to me about your new piece that you're doing in here because I want to get into that. Yeah. Totally. Okay. So the piece I'm making is called Morning, and it starts basically with the thought experiment of what would happen to planet Earth if there were no humans all of a sudden. And it's very, I mean, it's in that way, it's very much like a sci fi opera. It's like speculative on every level of the word. It's really. And it's, you know, we start with, okay, in the first few minutes, the dogs really have to go to the bathroom and they can't go outside and there's no owner to like let them out. And then slowly following the, you know, the subway floods and what happens to our power plants and and the way time functions in the piece is it just moves through time exponentially. So it's like the first 20 minutes will be with the first 200 years and then flip forward to 5000 years into the future and then 100,000 years into the future and go all the way to multiple billions of years into the future. And are you hopping around from environment to environment within that? Or is it is it one place that you're seeing go through all those changes? Yeah, I mean, the way I'm thinking of it is that the performers are these kind of unexplained witnesses that maybe are aliens or gods or something. And it's just like they're looking down on Earth. And so they're kind of pinpointing all over the place. And there are moments where the story gets into space travel and then talking about the moon. But for the most part, it's, I mean, obviously, there's like so many examples of what would happen. It's a huge amount of time. The Earth is huge. So it's like pinpointing, okay, in that city, in that place, like, okay, a little moment here in New York, and now a little moment in Northern Australia. And is it, is there as easy as I can ask it, are there lyrics or is it soundscape? Is it from, is there language? Yeah, yeah, language is definitely a big part of it. Yeah, I mean, it's very much influenced by my love of songwriting. So there's definitely songs. And my work with composer Bob Ashley, so that there's this musical storytelling. And so some parts are pretty talky. And some parts will kind of lose themselves and more instrumental and noisy stuff. And I immediately, so if there are no people that talky parts is that who's who's talking? That's what I want to know. Totally. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, it's more storytelling than character. Maybe that's the way to say it. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah, and that's part of why like, the experimental form and kind of the hybridity that here is such a great supporter of, you know, at home in here. Yeah, and how do you, how do you describe experimental? Like, how would you define it for yourself or, or things that you see? I mean, because I, because sometimes I think people just think anything that's not like a one four or five is experimental. Yeah, totally. I mean, the term can definitely be used that way. I think, I mean, for me, the term comes out of a very particular historical lineage, especially. So there's, you know, certain artists that I think of as like, I'm inheriting techniques and things they were doing, whether that's Robert Ashley or Meredith Monk, or, you know, plenty of, plenty of other musicians. I mean, certainly there's a lot of overlap with what is called creative music, which is maybe. That's a weird word. Creative music. But basically it's just like. Yeah, right. Totally. Yeah. Yeah. New music, creative music. I mean, they're all imperfect terms. There's no question about that. But there's more than one four or five. Sometimes you're not even paying attention to harmony. Right. Right. There's no chord progression at all. But I mean, a lot of my music also is using folk forms. Right. In terms of the songwriting. So I'm really like. Yeah, I saw that in the prisoner piece that you made. What's it called? Prisoner song. Prisoner song. Yeah. So you're using these folk songs, but then you're, but you're also giving kind of, I don't know, I guess the experimental part for me in watching it is, oh, it's the sounds of their emotions or the sounds of their environment or the sounds of not just the folk song, the folk song is kind of part of the landscape, but it's not the whole story. And so that, that again, as we said, the hybrid, you know, you're squishing it together, but yeah, totally. So, but I have a question about patience and also cultivation. So, so when you're, do you feel like you have to find your audience or are you cultivating an audience for their work? Interesting. Do you know what I mean by that? Because if just if anyone random comes to your work, they go, oh, this is experimental and they don't necessarily have context for it or like they don't even know who Meredith Monk is, you know. But so there, but there are obviously people who do know who Meredith Monk is. So are you trying to find those people? Are you trying to find just the regular person and then bring them into the world that you make? Or is it, yeah, a combination? Yeah, yeah. I mean, I think it's a combination, but I also am not disappointed with myself if it's not, you know, if like tourists that might otherwise go to Kinky Bates don't come to my show, you know what I mean? I mean, I do think using a term like experimental is also just indicating like, hey, there might be sounds you're not used to. And that's cool, you know. Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don't show up if you're not ready for it. Yeah, or at least if it's happening, they have some way to explain it to themselves. But I mean, I definitely learned, I mean, one of the really beautiful things about working with Dave Malloy and doing Comet or Ghost Quartet has been just meeting a much bigger audience than I was with other musical projects. And so many, I mean, musical theater, obviously, there's a lot of teenage fans that get really excited about shows. And there were so many people that I met who were really listening to certain kinds of sounds they'd never considered before and getting really excited about that. And that moment and, you know, talking to people about that after the show is always really wonderful. So I definitely want to support those kinds of moments, you know. Yeah. And then you always, I mean, that my experience of being on the road is that if you end up, I got booked at the studio theater at the Sydney Opera House a couple of times. And it's just a 400 seat theater. But because it's right there and it's such a tourist thing, people want to come see the Sydney Opera House. So they both, people from the cruise ships will come and see the, any ticket that they can get. So like your whole audience of people who have no desire to see what you're doing just wanted to be at the Sydney Opera House. So it's really, it's a real challenge to invite them in to the piece. Right. Yeah, yeah, yeah, for sure. But I guess that was, it was kind of my question about patience is like how much do you think about that when starting a piece that you're, you're, you're, you're, you're going to take your time and let people come to it when they get to it? Or are you trying to get them what's the invitation, I guess is what I'm asking. Yeah, totally. I mean, I do think that there's a lot of kinds of music that I enjoy that are not, you know, top 40 on the radio. And so yeah, I'm, there's definitely an element of like, this is the music I'm making. And, you know, fine, you know, you'll find your way into it, or you won't, and I'm not going to compromise that. That must be so liberating. Does it feel that way? Yeah, I mean, totally. I mean, I'm an artist, right? Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Part of why I decide to be an artist and make the sacrifices that come with that or so I can just do whatever the hell I want to do. Yeah, yeah. That's the way I think about it at least. Gorgeous. So, so then is there intention before you start a piece that like you so this this work about humans not existing in nature, taking over again, I imagine there's some kind of desire to at least explore themes and ideas of climate change within that, but maybe not. And so I wanted, you know, do you do you start with an intention or you just start making and you go, you know what, I feel like this is doing this or you I know it was a little inspired by a book you read. So was it you read that book? I'm going to make a piece about this. Yeah, yeah. So I read this book that came out about 15 years ago called the world without us by Alan Weissman. He's like a science journalist. So he starts with this, you know, the idea, okay, humans are gone. We don't know why or care why they're gone. They're gone. What happens? And certainly, a lot of there's that was an amazing starting point. And part of what really surprised me reading the book was how hopeful and calm it made me feel I was really getting ready for some, you know, dystopian kind of like angst. And instead, I came out of it feeling so much more peaceful. And yeah, and that emotional experience of reading that book, which was so unexpected to me, made me think about what opera is capable of doing. And the layering of like hopeful and distraught that you can feel at one moment, because of just something music is able to do. And I also feel like one of the things that opera is really great with. And really, I mean opera I mean like musical storytelling is stretching time. So like, you know, spending a single second over five minutes, or spending, you know, 100 years over 30 seconds. And so I felt part of this story is about feeling geological time. It's about feeling time scales that we just don't feel in our day to day lives, which I think is really useful for making sense of how to interact with nature as humans, how to make the choices we're making. And also just how to slow down and take a breath. Yeah, totally. Yeah, for sure, especially for the New Yorkers. Right. So yeah, so I guess, I mean, I'm always writing music, and I'm always thinking in these forms, because this is my career. This is what I do. And so I just reading this book, it just really inspired me to put it into that form. And I also just, I mean, I love science fiction. I love science. I'm just like, love reading pop science books. And I love researching. This is part of why I'm a scholar. So that side of this project has just been so much fun. Okay, great. I get to read three books about nuclear waste and make what's going to happen. What's the deal with that? Right. What can I make sense of? Right. And so you did this walk recently through the cemetery. What's the cemetery called? Yeah, yeah. So I made a sound walk called Cairns for Greenwood Cemetery in Brooklyn. Greenwood Cemetery. Yeah. And so when you're making a sound walk, obviously you went to the cemetery and you walked around and I say obviously, but I'm assuming you would do that. Just all come out of your brain, right? And you're kind of wondering how I guess the question really is how much does the site specific space influence the composition? And then how do you bring that site specific sound into a theater? Like what are your techniques that you're using to do that? Because this piece is so much about nature, this new piece, but you're going to be doing it inside, right? Totally. Yeah. Yeah, for sure. Yeah, I mean, that kind of thing has been really important for me for years. You know, I have a song cycle I made for bathrooms called Bathroom Songs that I only perform bathrooms. Right. And you did the Skylight piece too in that room with, I just watched the video in the room where it's so, the acoustics is incredible. Totally. Yeah, yeah. So that I have this other piece Skylight that was made for big resonant spaces and we made this video in a silo. And I am off, you know, I have a piece for a corner where I'm really using the acoustics of the space. And I love making these pieces that, you know, every bathroom is going to be different. Every corner is going to be different. And part of the piece is reacting to that. So that's something I'm already, you know, have been thinking on in many levels for years. And so making the soundwalk and basically marrying what I knew the audience listeners experience would be of space with the music was really fun. You know, there's like a section where you go upstairs and you get most people get out of breath. And the music has a lot of breath in it. And so it's, it's aware of what kind of physical experience the listeners going to go through while they're listening. Or, you know, there's field recordings throughout that we recorded in Greenwood. And there's a song towards the end where I basically wrote the melody and the harmonies around the field recording, meaning around the sounds of birds and machines and airplanes always reacting to that. So I think for morning, I mean, I'm hoping to use a number of techniques with how I bring the sound of landscape in. Right. Because if you don't have the plane flying by, then you bring the sound of the plane into the space so that you can respond to it, I guess. Yeah, yeah, for sure. And in some cases, that will be true. It's also something that I've been really interested in is materiality. So maybe soon I should play this song for you. Yeah, let me finish what you're saying and then let's go on to the song. The part of the thing with this song is I play this instrument called the Daxophone, which is right here. An experimental instrument. It was invented in the 80s. It's not super well known, but it's all about wood. So right here is this piece of wood. And I have, you know, like 16 different ones of these tongues, we call them. And every piece of wood makes different sounds. The materiality of the wood itself makes a different sound. So, you know, I have a section of the piece I've been working on where I'm thinking about really old trees and experiencing time in the timescale of instead of living for, say, 100 years, like a human might, living for 3000 years, like a coastal redwood is. And for that music, I'm actually playing coastal redwood because I have a tongue made of that material. So that's kind of where I'm starting with. Yeah, yeah. If there's a section about water I'm using, I have a bowl and using water as a musical instrument. So not, it's, to me, it's, there's the part of it of like, okay, let's represent what is being talked about in the story. But then there's kind of that next level of using that material as the instrumentation itself. Yeah, let's hear it. So I play this song. Yeah, yeah, great. I have to scoop back so that you can see the Daxophone, at least a little bit. Part of what's really fun about it is you have to like sit on this. It's really architectural in its way, which I really enjoy. What should I say? Okay, so this is like a toy. Yeah. Yeah, right. This is a song from an earlier part of the piece that is dealing with kind of what happens to buildings, human buildings, in the first, say, like 100 years after humans are gone. And this song is talking about how one of the things that will happen is that there will be a bunch of fires, and that a lot of buildings that aren't destroyed by water and rain over many, many years will be taken away in fires. So I'm also from Northern California. So fire is an extremely intense part of my life and my family's life at this point. So anyway, that's all. Yeah, me too. All my friends are in California. I'm feeling it. Yeah. Okay, cool. So here we go. I have so many questions now. Oh my gosh, I'm going to ask you so many things. But when you're working, do you feel the freedom of experimental on experimental? That's the silly way I know how to ask the question. The language is poetic and yet clear. You're the lyric writing, right? While the sound is doing something that's like, you know what I mean? And so I'm wondering what your thoughts are in terms of grounding while exploding? I guess, does that make is that a real clear question? On which level? What I mean is like exploding or I mean, like, so the melody is, you know, you're kind of like working within a certain item. Forgive me for not knowing the exact language, but tonal structure, right? And yeah. And so that's a foundation. And the drone is a foundation. And then the lyric writing is really, really beautiful. And and in a word like roller coaster comes in, which everybody has a foundation for, right? Yeah. So I guess what I'm really asking is like, at what point, how are you balancing foundation with taking everybody away from foundation? It totally does. I don't know if I can answer that question. I might need you to come to the show and tell me. I was just wondering if you think about that before you do it, or is it instinctual, or is it just like you feeling your way through, you know, which is so much that we do. I do think I work pretty instinctually. I definitely, I mean, I'm a poet and that's been, I mean, I've been writing poetry as long as I've been writing words. That's like, you know, that's totally in there. And I mean, part of what I love about contemporary philosophy is often it's poetry. But that said, I also understand that science and, you know, is wrapped in concreteness. So it's like, I want to get into the poetry of deciduous trees, but I also want to make sure I know which ones are deciduous, and which ones are conifers, and what exactly that means, and what physical processes is that dealing with? Does that make sense? Yeah, it totally makes sense. And I also, I mean, I love the musicality of language. So there's always the first level of, okay, here's the meaning I'm going for. And then here are some images that I like. But then I always rewrite my lyrics once I'm actually singing because, right, of course, I'm finding the music in them. Do you rewrite them in the moment of performing, or it's all done beforehand? I think for the most part, it's all done beforehand. Yeah. Yeah, I mean, improvisation is definitely an important part of my process. And oftentimes, part of how I'm writing a song is just by singing it over and over and over again, and trying a bunch of things and seeing how it works. Yeah, it's great. So fun. I mean, one of the things with musicians is musicians like to play music. Yeah, we do just want to hang out and play one song over and over. You don't want to do that. You're just not going to be a musician. You're not going to be able to stand it. I kind of have a lame, a lame logistical question for you, which is, which is neighbors. Are you in New York City right now? Yeah, I'm in Brooklyn. So when you're rehearsing, right, and you're doing it over and over again, and you're trying to find your way, but you know, I know when I'm in my apartment, I can't let go. I can't even let go when, you know, my husband's anywhere in the vicinity, right? So, I mean, like, so how do you, how do you do it? Do just go, screw it. They'll just, they'll deal with it. Because I just watched this documentary on Klaus Gnomey. And he used to rehearse every single day. He had a courtyard and everyone who lived in East Village around in that courtyard could hear him rehearse all day. Yes, I know this documentary. Yes, totally. And I just think about that. I'm like, I don't think my neighbors would be happy with it. Totally. Yeah, yeah. I, for many, many years, I had a one bedroom apartment with no neighbors above or below me. I just had a business below me. And that was really ideal. For the last year, I've lived in a new spot where I have someone above me with my actual landlord is above me. And well, that's okay, though, because above doesn't hear it as bad. Yeah. So here's the thing. When I was like interviewing for the apartment, I was very clear about my musician and a composer. And I was just super upfront about it because I didn't want to have the issue a lot of New Yorkers have where they move in and then all of a sudden they can't do what he did. And my landlord, bless his heart, is just like, Oh, that's great. We love musicians. And he compliments me on like what I'm playing. And I feel a real sense of warmth and support for playing music. I mean, I try to not be singing loudly at midnight. There's a real sense of an appreciation and a love of music. So I also found out just a few months ago that a bass player friend of mine had actually lived in the same exact apartment for a few years. So they've had musicians here already. But again, it's that you need to have that special thing. Yeah. But it actually wasn't a lame question because there was an answer. It was so specific. You just have to be honest. Exactly. The honest and not accepted environment that isn't going to work for you. Yeah. And there are definitely times where I have to tell my partner just like, just, could you stay in your room for an hour? Like so I can just forget anyone is around. Right. Go into the writing music and then I'll come back and it's a mad dash. Whenever my husband goes like to the grocery store, it's like, I've got an hour. Yeah, totally. So I want to just, I think we probably got over a time, but I wanted to ask what do you need right now? What do you need from the community? What do you want from the community to help you make this piece? Oh, I wanted to ask also about visuals. I'll squish it in. What do aesthetics mean to you in your work? And how do you work them into your work? Yeah. That just felt like three huge questions. Is the visual and aesthetics, is that the same thing? That's a separate question. Well, we can ask the aesthetics thing first. What do, I mean, like somebody comes to see you and they close your eyes because that's how they listen best. Yeah. Are you like, oh, but they're not getting half a story because it's all about, or is that just, or is that good for you? That's interesting. I think, I do, I mean, I do like that place that people go to when they close their eyes and get lost and stuff. I think that that can be harder when language and communication is involved. I do think there's something to seeing the lips move, even if we're not lip readers. Bone, seeing the word bone is a lot different than hearing it. Yeah. I also feel like I use a term to talk about how I make work of embodied songwriting. So that sometimes I start with a physical position or a like movement, and I actually let the music come from that, even the lyrical content come from that. So depending on what part of the piece, though, I'm sure there will be certain parts of the piece where the physical, what's happening physically is very much influencing the music. There is definitely an argument to be made that, well, you can hear all of that because it's integrated into the music. But I do love the choreographic and the moving body, and I definitely have many strong visual ideas for this piece, so that I feel like just the album form, like I want to do the live performance and not just have the album form. Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Are you working with designers or is it? I am, but who exactly those are is a little influx because of COVID and all of that stuff. So yeah, that will definitely solidify as time goes on. And what year are you in right now? I'm in my second year. I mean, part of what makes here so amazing is that when the pandemic first hit, I just mean this piece so much for me is about not thinking about humans and what a relief that is. But when the pandemic hit, I really wanted to think about humans. I really wanted to be with humans and support humans. And I just couldn't really, I couldn't write the piece for a while. Oh, interesting. Yeah, because you would think that would be the perfect time to write the piece. It was a great time to research. There's been amazing research that I've been able to update from what we've learned during this period. And now I'm definitely deep into writing it. But it was just such an emotional roller coaster when everyone was getting sick all around me. Yeah. So part of what makes here so amazing is that they commissioned these two different sound walks, Cairns and Greenwood, and then just came out with the under for the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. So I've had this amazing time where I've put a lot of energy into these two other pieces. And now I'm coming back to really focusing on mourning again. So it feels like less than two years because I was, you know, Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah. And so do you feel like there's anything that you need if somebody's watching this? And they, and they feel like, you know, obviously money is always a nice thing. But like, is there, is there something that you that you want the community to show up for? Yeah, I mean, well, I'm definitely very interested in in how people are reacting to these ideas. You know, I had we had a showing maybe a month before, you know, New York shut down. And I was getting a lot of feedback from people in that first month or two about how they were thinking about the piece, because these ideas were just swirling all around them. And I feel like I'm definitely going through a process of kind of I feel like they were ideas that felt really strong to me. And then I was like, Well, I'll make a piece. And by the end of the piece, other people will be with me because they'll be like, Oh, yeah, I feel you. But then with everything that's happened this year, I feel like, Oh, we're just all on the same wavelength now. And so it's really nice to hear what you know, what is hitting for people, what are the things they're thinking about when they're thinking about the natural world, what they're focusing on. Yeah, great. Yeah, great. Well, thanks for talking to me. It's been a pleasure. Oh, my gosh, you're so wonderful. I don't believe we'll find each other in the same room.