In an era of content that is produced to perfection, violinist-songwriter-storyteller Joe Kye’s commitment to experimentation and discovery (in front of a live audience, no less!) is refreshing. I was taken by surprise when he stepped onstage–there was no fanfare, no announcement, barely a bit of light dimming–but, seeing Kye in a comfortable outfit, not even wearing shoes, I felt a wave of comfort and bemusement. Everything about this evening, from the way Kye invited the audience into the artistic process to the way he allowed himself to be comfortable in his own skin, was a reminder that embracing imperfection and authenticity allows something beautifully unexpected to unfold.
Instead of putting on a highly-rehearsed, technically precise performance that one might expect from a classically-trained violinist, Kye opted to center improvisation, experimentation, and audience participation. From the flower / paper-art projected on the big screen that spelled out the performer’s name, to the cozy outfit, to the lighting of a real candle (only a slight fire hazard), one can already see Kye’s intention to find creative opportunities in every aspect of the performance. His first piece was an improvised solo where, with the help of looping pedals, he layered pizzicatos and melodic lines and floaty harmonics from his two electric violins with tinklings from a mini xylophone and singing. Unexpectedly, he pulled out a tiny gong (covered in a blue cloth to dampen the sound) and struck it at an upbeat tempo that seemed, at first, to clash with the relaxed soundscape. The rhythmic pattern ushered in a groovier, more percussive section before the piece came to a graceful ending. The end result was so much more than the individual layers; rather, it was the interaction that each sound had with the other layers that created the magic. This theme of multilayered conversations continued to come up throughout the performance.
Guitarist Mike Gamble joined Kye onstage for another improvised song. There were expressive melodic phrases, wispy harmonics and tremolos, and tender, jazzy guitar passages. Gamble and Kye bounced off each other and rolled with new ideas, even those out of left field, with several mischievous smiles. At some points, it was hard to tell which plucks were from which instrument (or from the looper) as they blended so seamlessly. Kye then introduced his next song, “11-8 Mistakes,” and taught the audience how to sing the lyrics: “I’ve made mistakes, so have you / I make mistakes, so do you / I’ll make mistakes, so will you,” making sure to emphasize the triumphant ascension of the last line. Supporting the celebratory vocals were a rousing, syncopated rhythmic pattern and occasional vibrant violin solo. The song brought the audience into the musical dialogue, inviting the past, present, and future versions of ourselves to be more compassionate with ourselves and each other when we inevitably make mistakes. Is Kye… gentle parenting the audience?
Part story, part song, the next number was an ode to Kye’s grandfather, a determined man who defied all odds to find freedom. The violinist shared that spending time with his ancestors (not in a Mulan-way, more in a “just hanging out with grandpa” way) has helped him gain a broader perspective on behaviors, patterns, and intergenerational trauma. To help honor Kye’s grandfather, flower arranger Theresa Bear lent her talents to the stage. Her deft hands adorning the black-and-white photos of the elder with leaves and flowers. Her handiwork was projected on a big screen for all to admire. Kye’s distant past as an educator shone through in his engaging storytelling abilities, and the ambient live instrumentals created a special atmosphere that immersed the audience in the story. The botanical art supporting this lo-fi, quasi-ASMR, biographical sketch served as a beautiful metaphor for the resilience and impermanence of life. “Life moves towards where there are more resources,” says Kye, in reference to his grandfather and the plants decorating the screen. Bridging multiple artistic mediums and multiple generations, this mode of storytelling invited in the ethos of honoring one’s ancestors and created a sacred container without relying on the trappings of traditional rituals.
Continuing on the theme of paying homage to our ancestors, Kye pulled out a tape recorder and a small microphone and invited audience members to share something they’d like to tell their forebears. As stories and memories of parents and grandparents poured into the tape, there was a collective feeling of remembrance and gratitude. Carefully, Kye clicked “play” on the tape recorder and proceeded to build an improvised song with the memories that were shared. It felt like a gift to those who came before us and a reminder to cherish those still beside us.
To leave the audience in uplifted spirits, Kye performed the gently jovial “Happy Song,” offering blessings and showcasing his endearing rap skills in the process. Before starting the song, Kye noticed that the amplified violin sounds created a crackly noise, and despite the unsuccessful troubleshooting attempts, he accepted the technical difficulty gracefully and adjusted his playing to minimize the crackling. This accepting attitude allowed the audience to perceive the static-y sound as another sound effect instead of as a disturbance. The song was a fitting closing to an evening of whimsy and reverence that provoked reflection and rejoicement. The aspects of his performance that were more experimental, like the flower arranging to the audience recording to the candle lighting, were also the most memorable. It was so delightful to see (and hear) the creative, multi-disciplinary ways that sounds and music can enable us to honor ourselves and those around us. “In these moments, it can be easy to feel a sense of paralysis, and to me, creativity is the opposite of feeling stuck and afraid,” shared Kye, offering a much-needed reminder of the power of creative expression to imagine a better world.
