Ales Tsurko On the Making Of ‘Before the Void’
What was the creative process like for this particular album?
For most tracks, the process was the same: I improvised a lot on a synthesizer and recorded the most interesting ideas. Then I went back, improved them, and recorded the final result. Only “No. 9” and “No. 6” were created as I usually write more complex forms. I mean, there were initial ideas too, but they were recorded in a multitrack fashion in a DAW. Especially it was different for “No. 6.” I “researched” forms of chanting. By “researching” I mean watching videos on YouTube and analyzing them. And particularly, I was impressed by Tibetan monks’ chanting, which first seemed like improvisation, but after analyzing it, I found out that it has a very strict repetitive form. It’s hard to catch this form in real-time, because it’s very slow and has a lot of space/silence. Then I wrote a modern canon for string quartet and piano. But after rehearsals with musicians, I changed my mind and recorded it using a guitar and synthesizer.
What impact do you hope 'Before the Void' will have on your audience?
It’s very simple. I hope people will feel the beauty around. It sounds silly and naive, but it’s very important in our times. When you see that darkness like war, you must have some opposition, which could show that it’s not the only thing that people could bring into the world. There is still something good in us. And if you can feel it, you have it too. This helps to find the best in us. And probably makes the world a better place too.
Which piece(s) do you like the best and why?
It’s definitely “No. 9.” I don’t know why, but it’s the most emotional for me. It brings a lot of pictures. I also used it as the “love” theme for Freedom Squared scoring.
Every composer has a unique style. How would you describe your musical "voice" or signature style? What sets your compositions apart?
I’d call it “a noisy cluster of memory fragments.”
But overall, as you said, everyone’s music is already unique. It’s as unique as a person’s voice, appearance, and personality. Also, when you write music, you are listening, and you change it in response to how you hear it. How you process your experience is unique too. We are different, and it makes our visions of the world different. And in this total difference, it’s more important to find someone as close to your vision as possible; otherwise, you will be alone. So, paradoxically, listeners who find my music close to them make my music unique. Music translates very deep and personal things, and when you hear it—when you see that someone else shows it outside via music—it’s a fantastic experience. Especially when you can’t describe it in words. This makes the music unique. But there should be a match between composer and listener. Great composers can translate complex things that a wide range of listeners can understand. I’m not sure I can do this yet, but I’m sure there are listeners who understand my language.
How do you use musical elements to convey mood and emotions in your compositions? Are there specific techniques you rely on?
It’s always some imagined picture or a situation from real life—some emotional response to what I’ve seen or am trying to handle, or something I wanted to say but couldn’t explain with words.
For the technical part, I rely a lot on harmony. I tend to use pitch sets instead of tonality. Not particularly in this album, but usually I build the whole form from a couple of tones, which I find in response to what I feel about a particular image or situation. Each tone becomes the “tonic” of a part, an imaginary bourdon. Then I add details by forming pitch sets from each tone. Then I build melodies or progressions using pitches from these sets and I love to use clusters. My previous album Laniakea, My Mother is a good example of this technique.