Potentia Premiere Reflections
Over the past week, I’ve been reflecting on the many ways Potentia’s premiere with Orchestra Santa Monica was a truly special experience. Last Sunday’s concert was the culmination of a year’s worth of conversation, collaboration, and composition—an intense process that challenged me to grow in ways I never expected. The six-month window to take the piece from concept to final draft was grueling, requiring a regimented schedule and deep focus. And yet, despite the challenges, this has been the most rewarding and enjoyable compositional experience of my career. From the very beginning, I was met with nothing but enthusiasm and support, and I could not have asked for a better team to collaborate with.
I also could not have hoped for a more generous and engaged audience. The outpouring of excitement and heartfelt reactions was overwhelming. For years, I’ve worked in relative quiet, unsure of how my music truly resonated with listeners. To have so many people share how deeply Potentia moved them—some even brought to tears—was unlike anything I had ever experienced. One audience member told me she hadn’t been so moved by a composition in years. Another mentioned she was so enthralled with it she talked about it with her friend all through the break and they didn’t leave their chairs. Moments like these are rare and precious, and I will carry them with me for a long time.
My heart was especially full seeing so many close friends and family in attendance, some traveling from out of town and even out of state to be there. Their presence meant the world to me, and I will never take that kind of support for granted.
A special thank you to the musicians of Orchestra Santa Monica, whose dedication and artistry brought Potentia to life in ways I could only have hoped for. Many players reached out during rehearsals and after the concert to tell me how much they enjoyed performing their parts. This resonates deeply with my philosophy as a composer—music should be engaging and rewarding to play, with parts that feel natural and idiomatic to the instruments they’re written for.
Since the premiere, I’ve been caught between two emotions: the immense joy of sharing such a meaningful moment with so many wonderful people and an unexpected melancholy as the high of the performance fades. The question of "what’s next?" is hard to escape. Composer Dale Trumbore refers to this feeling in her book Staying Composed as a “success hangover.” When I first read her book years ago, I couldn’t fully grasp the concept because I had yet to experience it myself. Now, for the first time, I truly understand it. It’s a difficult place to be, but there’s a bittersweetness in knowing it comes from having accomplished something meaningful.
Trumbore’s advice to a success hangover is simple but essential: be patient and kind to your body. That’s exactly what I intend to do in the coming weeks—giving myself space to reflect while gradually shifting focus toward what’s next. I’ll be returning to my fitness routine, eating a bit healthier, catching up on books I’ve been meaning to read, and tackling the long-overdue task of organizing my disheveled office.
More than anything, I’m excited to continue building connections and creating meaningful listening experiences through my work, and I can’t wait to share with you all the new developments when they come. Thank you all for being part of this journey.