The underpaintings not visible in the final piece are blurry images, mostly taken from news reports including coverage of the Jan. 6 Capitol riots and the 2017 far-right rally in Charlottesville, Virginia. A ghost of history and trauma, a veiled presence, like “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child” in Srey’s personal score.
“It plays all the time as the piece progresses, but you only hear it occasionally,” says Sorey. “We have this musical information that is inspired by that spirituality in many ways, but we actually hear it only occasionally. It’s there, but it’s not there.”
In this way, according to Sellers, the past is awakened, healed, and pushed forward into the future in “monochromatic light.” “He’s two years from now and it’s important to move on. The past is ongoing, but all of this must move forward.”
Unlike Houston, where the audience was facing the same direction towards the performers, the Armory’s circular presentation also has political repercussions. “It’s about society looking at itself,” Sellers said. There is no way out. we are all in this together. None of us have gone through exactly the same thing, but we are with each other. “
Srey’s music is “experiential. It’s lived. It’s an experience.”
The question is how the audience will react to a very long, understated, rigorous and ritualistic experience. “It’s about endurance,” said Sellers. “How long is a minute? Not ‘Oh, let’s change the subject.’ I’ll stay here until I find something really. It is a space of concentrated investment. “