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Selected Works

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Poltergeist of Kayaköy

(2023)

for flute, clarinet, violin, cello, percussion, and piano


Aiyun Huang (conductor)
Ksenia Mezhenny (flute)
Cameron DeLuca (clarinet)
Jordan Hadrill (violin)
Peter Ko (cello)
Corey Denham (percussion)
Victoria Yuan (piano)

Venue: Hindemith Music Center, Blonay, Switerland
@soundSCAPE Festival


© Victor Cui 2023



“Kayaköy is an abandoned village in Turkey. Once a teeming township with a vibrant Greek culture, it was emptied during the 1923 population exchange between Greece and Turkey, following the Greco-Turkish war. Today, the relics of Kayaköy stand in silent witness to the clinical demarcation of modern ethnic nation states.”


︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

Phoenix Contemplates God

(2023)

for organ

Midori Ataka (organ)

Venue: St. Mary’s Seminary & University, Baltimore MD
@ St. Mary’s Seminary & University


© Victor Cui 2023



“Phoenix Contemplates God is my first attempt at the organ. The instrument’s textural and coloristic complexity posed a great challenge to me. The piece is strictly monothematic, with one pentatonic motif whimsically shifting between distant key areas without preparation. The abrupt juxtaposition of contrasting keys reflects how my thought process generally is: erratic, unpredictable, always making imaginative leaps of faith though random associations.”



︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

Etude for Cluster Machine

(2023)

for self-designed cluster keyboard

Victor Cui (keyboard)

Venue: Rice Electroacoustic Music Lab, Houston TX
@ Shepherd School of Music, Rice University


© Victor Cui 2023



“Cluster machine is a MIDI keyboard that uses a very noisy tuning system I invented.”



︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

Vergangenheitsbewältigung

(2022)

for large ensemble

Hae Lee (conductor)
Peabody Orchestra

Venue: Mariam A. Friedberg Concert Hall, Baltimore MD
@ Peabody Institute


© Victor Cui 2023



“ Vergangenheitsbewältigung" is the German agglutinative word that means "the process of coping with the past. I first encountered this concept in a class on Wagner taught by Professor Matthew Reese at the Peabody Institute. The article of that week was talking about how the grandson (Wieland) of Richard Wagner was trying to produce and stage his grandfather's operas differently so as to distance the contemporary productions from the previous versions so closely associated with the recetly fallen Nazi regime.

Then it occurred to me that individual, every nation, is constantly and perpetually dealing with the past, as long as they exist in the temporal dimension. It is, in fact, impossible to escape the past, since what we do and think at the present moment is built upon the accumulation of actions and thoughts we have done so far. Whatever we do presently instantaneously becomes the past the next second, which in turn informs the future self, as the past constitutes an integral, constituent part of it. It is the only way of being. It is also all we've got.

Recently, I have been grappling with the past myself, working through memories and traumas, but also seeing how much I've grown as a composer and as a person. Music, as it exists and flows in time, is to me the perfect medium to metaphorically capture this arduous process of coping with the past, since music itself is constantly referring back to as well as confronted by the music that precedes it, and that the music at hand is inevitably the crystallization of the composer's practice and listening in the past.

I would like to express my gratitude to Dr. Sky Macklay and Sally Hyun for their generous support during the composition of Vergangenheitsbewältigung, whose contribution has been absolutely instrumental to the making of my first piece for symphony orchestra.

Vergangenheitsbewältigung is written for the Peabody Orchestra, to be premiered October 19th, 2022.”




︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

hydrangea wafts in cicada songs

(2023)

for recitation, piano, and electronics

Victor Cui (recitation, piano, and electronics)


© Victor Cui 2023



i.

each moving feels like a pupation
we shed what we possessed, at least
for a significant amount of time
in exchange for something new, at
a largely foreign place

doesn’t this just remind you of
an owl moth adult emerging
from its brownish, crispy shell

bidding farewell to the crust that
had once wrapped and swaddled
waving goodbye to legged peristalsis

is it all worth it, for the airborne, yet
gossamer-entangled muliebrity?

after all, shrouding is the ultimate form of protection



ii.

from time to time i think of a deceased relative
he was old, gaunt, decrepit, wan
and practically deaf
he was an old, secluded man

sitting on his rickety bed
hunch-backed and lonely
he stared blankly at me
and possibly held my hand

i forget how his wrinkled skin
could be both dry and clammy

before i came to the united states
on an inconspicuous afternoon
in a gloomy post-industrial suburb
he mumbled something like “good, good education…
is good… good university, nice… good… uhm…
should get you, uhm, a fine job… well-paid job… you know…
be a big’o, high-ranking government official…
make good money… you see, uhm… those government people…”

in the end i did not attend his funeral


iii.

is crying really a deadly sin?
as we know it too well
it sure feels good, healing, munificent
healthy as well as naturally forgiving

could it be the diametric opposite of sinful, as
it beckons
a gesture of self-preservation

to reconcile is to acknowledge the fact
that tears do actually protect
through their arhythmic, jerky whisper
during god’s most intensive, wrathful bowling

could it be that each sob
is a soul figure-skating?




︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

Coulrophobia

(2020)

for Sibelius

Victor Cui (Sibelius)


© Victor Cui 2020 



“Channeling my fear for clowns.”

grandpa, who was your first love?

(2022 - 2023)

for tenor and piano


Matthew Galvilanez (tenor)
Jonathan Shiin (piano)

Venue: Leith Symington Griswold Hall, Baltimore MD
@ Peabody Institute


© Victor Cui 2023



“The first half of the piece is based on an online interview, where an old man casually recounts how he met his wife, but with a rather dark turn of event. The second half of the piece features my own poetry, written in the summer of 2022 in Aspen. My seasonal depression really paired well with the old man’s calm resignation.”



“grandpa who was your first love”
“her name was eve.”

“why did you fall in love with her?”
“she was smarter and prettier than i was, and i was wicked smart and good looking.”

“did you ask her out?”
“no she asked me. i was dying to ask her, but i was too shy.”

“how long did you and eve go out?”
“all four years of college.”

“what happened after those four years?”
“i married her, of course.”

“so how long were you married?”
“not long enough: 7 years. she died of ovarian cancer.”

“i am so sorry.”
“no it’s alright. it was a long time ago.”


must there be a good reason
for all these drooping clouds to gather
they congregate, all intimate
blocking the sun

it was raining down the hazy valley
droplets pouring, caressing leaves falling
their tears, their tears, all chilly and helpless
pecking at one heart

a thousand cloudlets traverse rainbow
all shining, fragments scintillating
they snuggle closer, above a silent cathedral
milking for response



︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

Two Poemes by Stéphane Mallarmé

(2019 - 2023)

for soprano and piano

Rebecca Regan (soprano)
Yangwei Xu (piano)

Venue: Cohen-Davidson Family Theatre, Baltimore MD
@ Peabody Institute

© Victor Cui 2023


“The piece was first conceived on a cruise ship on the Caribeean Sea. I was struck by the immensity and waviness of the ocean, something I was not used to and desperately needed after the severe winter of Chicago. Water reminded me of life and beauty, so did the poetry of Mallarmé.”


I. Le Château de l'Espérance

Ta pâle chevelure ondoie
Parmi les parfums de ta peau
Comme folâtre un blanc drapeau
Dont la soie au soleil blondoie.

Las de battre dans les sanglots
L’air d’un tambour que l’eau défonce,
Mon coeur à son passé renonce
Et, déroulant ta tresse en flots,

Marche à l’assaut, monte, – ou roule ivre
Par des marais de sang, afin
De planter ce drapeau d’or fin
Sur ce sombre château de cuivre –

Où, larmoyant de nonchaloir, L
’Espérance rebrousse et lisse
Sans qu’un astre pâle jaillisse
La Nuit noire comme un chat noir.


II. Salut

Rien, cette écume, vierge vers
À ne désigner que la coupe;
Telle loin se noie une troupe
De sirènes mainte à l’envers.

Nous naviguons, ô mes divers
Amis, moi déjà sur la poupe
Vous l’avant fastueux qui coupe
Le flot de foudres et d’hivers;

Une ivresse belle m’engage
Sans craindre même son tangage
De porter debout ce salut

Solitude, récif, étoile
À n’importe ce qui valut
Le blanc souci de notre toile.



︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

Not Red, But Blood!

(2023)

for violin, cello, and piano

Ambroise Aubrun (violin)
Derek Stein (cello) 
Mari Kawamura (piano)

Venue: Colburn School, Los Angeles CA
@ Impulse New Muisc Festival


© Victor Cui 2023



︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

i hear the years suddenly assailing

(2023)

for trumpet and horn

Marco Blaauw (trumpet)
Christine Chapman (horn)

Venue: Centre Street Performance Studio, Baltimore MD
@ Peabody Institute


© Victor Cui 2023 




︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

Onyx is the Color during the Silence of Järvenpää

(2021)

for flute and electronics

Christian Paquette (flute)


© Victor Cui 2021



“I composed Onyx is the color during the Silence of Järvenpää while thinking of Jean Sibelius.

The question is: what does it mean, for a composer, to be silent? Is it scary, frustrating? Or is it comfort, despair, resignation?

Sibelius notoriously didn’t produce any major work for the last thirty years of his life. He retired to Järvenpää, a small town 23 miles north of the Finnish Capital, Helsinki, with this wife Aino, and for thirty years, during which he wrote only sporadic Masonic songs, plus an abortive attempt towards the damnedly impregnable eighth symphony.

Musicologists interpellated this period as the Silence of Järvenpää. Leaning into the nomenclatural poetics, I think the color he saw must have been onyx. Because it could be distressful to not write music. Also because there’s something inexplicably associative between pure darkness and silence. One is also not entirely wrong if one draws upon the bleak, icy, sparsely-inhabited landscape of Finland with a thousand frozen lakes: the stereotypical Nordic scenery in popular imagination.

Lastly, Messiaen must be acknowledged here, as I borrowed his idea of labelling all the animals and natural elements from Catalogue d’oiseaux, albeit in a less accurate fashion. The overwhelming ubiquity of tritone could also be attributed to the obsessive Messiaenian predilection for this symmetrical yet weirdly directional leading tone.”




︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

Etude burlesque

(2020)

for Sibelius

Victor Cui (Sibelius)


© Victor Cui 2020



“I got super into putting random stuff into the notaion software. Something really funny came out this time.”