This spring break wasn’t easy. I felt overwhelmed by so many homework and had money troubles, especially spending too much on food. Then, on April 26th, 2024, I found myself overspending again, trying to cope with my depressions. On my way home that night, I saw a homeless cat struggling to find food in the garbage. It broke my heart. I couldn’t just walk away. I went to a nearby store and bought cat food, hoping to help. Seeing that cat made me think. Maybe it was a sign from God, reminding me to make positive changes in my life. So, on April 27th, 2024, I decided to make a big change. I wanted to get back on track with the spiritual goals I set for myself on March 24th.That’s why I created the album “Crab Cluster Canon 2024.” Each song reflects my journey of change and growth. Through music, I want to capture the beauty of transformation and renewal, just like what I experienced after seeing that homeless cat.
I thus created this crab canon inspired by this event.
The first time I encountered the concept of a crab canon was during Professor Gabriel’s Theory 1 class. Despite my efforts, I struggled to create one over the course of two years. It wasn’t until Professor Jeryl’s Jazz class that I learned about cluster voicing. Then, during this past spring break, something unexpected occurred. While working on a lullaby intended as a musical portrait of a friend, it underwent a transformation. The melody seemed to lose its original key and scale, yet somehow, I managed to bring it back to the home key. This serendipitous event led to the invention of what I now call the cluster crab canon. In this innovative approach, while mathematical structure remains important, the decision-making process also incorporates auditory perception, resulting in a composition that is both technically and sonically compelling.
The next three pieces were initially created for the winter composer concert of 2023, which was organized by Professor Shane. Participating in this concert was a valuable experience for me, as it marked both my first and, unfortunately, my last winter composer concert. The event held significance for me, particularly due to the changes in the theater structure, which transitioned into something more bureaucratic now. Consequently, these three pieces have now evolved into what I term the cluster crab canon with lost key syndromes.
The next three pieces are dedicated to the memory of three important priests who profoundly influenced my political ideology and played a significant role in shaping my religious identity. Among them, Rev. Nigel of the Anglican Church stands out as one of the most influential figures in my life.
I could write an entire book about him, starting from a time when I felt lost, homeless, and spiritually empty. There was a period when I faced unjust eviction from a homeless shelter and struggled to find a new home. I ended up being institutionalized by the shelter, but Rev. Nigel intervened, visiting me in the psych ward to advocate for my release. He also shared amusing stories of Henry VIII, sparking a peculiar fascination with Henry and Elizabeth I.
During my time as an exile, I lived in two homeless shelters. One was a welcoming Catholic shelter, while the other, despite being LGBTQ-focused and praised as a model by even our Department of State, exhibited abusive behaviors. Many vulnerable youths, lacking adequate coping skills, were unfairly expelled. Despite being obedient and avoiding any infractions, I was coerced into a contract that nearly derailed my life. Exploiting my mental health and vulnerability, they manipulated me into taking excessive medications and participating in various programs under the guise of expediting my transition to supportive housing. I was totally institutionalized!
Moreover, despite being accepted to a community college, my aspirations conflicted with the shelter’s housing plans. They even threatened to evict me on Christmas Day! Ironically, that decision turned out to be one of the best I ever made. Throughout this tumultuous period, Rev. Nigel provided invaluable support, allowing me to use the church’s address for important mail, assisting with USCIS correspondence, and even fundraising for my political asylum case.
Reflecting on those years, many in the shelter referred to me as ‘William Liberal.’ However, ‘Liberal’ now feels like an insult, and I’ve embraced a centrist stance. Nevertheless, I remain committed to the genuine acts of charity that Rev. Nigel instilled in our Church community. In a way, this cluster crab canon resonates with the sentiment of the French Anglican hymn ‘Un pain, Un corps,’ a melody that embodies Rev. Nigel’s inclusive proclamation: ‘This is the Lord’s table, everyone is welcomed.’ Just as those words echoed through the church, this composition embraces a spirit of inclusivity, mirroring the ethos of acceptance and hospitality that Rev. Nigel so fervently championed.
Here are the letters I’ve saved. That housing manager wasn’t bad. The shelter removed all my previous social workers from contacting me and assigned him to me. They relocated me to a new location, then subtly pressured me into signing a paper with “polite” suggestions that I would have to leave by Christmas Eve if I didn’t comply with their demands. These demands included taking the same massive amount of medication, following supportive housing plans, or attending their assigned day treatment programs, or life retreats ranged from local pride and political activities to visits to LGBTQ-based outdoor activities which sometimes can be fun.
Occasionally, I would collapse due to overdoses of medication, and the staff would help me to my feet. I appreciate the kindness of many people who have helped me. However, my past pathetic life was the price of following orders without rebellion! I asked my last social worker to write this letter as a reminder of my choices in the future. Of course, he couldn’t write about what actually happened, so he simply stated that I was discharged due to “Non-compliances.” I still appreciated the support of my last social worker, who was assigned to me solely to facilitate my eviction upon the shelter’s request.
I then spent a few nights wandering around the same area where Ella Fitzgerald once roamed. I slept on trains for around four hours at a time, traveling from one end to another. The church offered me a space, but I don’t want to depend on others forever.
Then I turned to another Catholic homeless shelter which I used to go and I became more religious. That shelter covered my community college tuition and helped me finish my first few terms. I was deeply devoted to my faith during that time, attending many churches, including my home Anglican Church and various local community congregations.
Rev. Yoshida, a very kind priest. I shared a lot of my extreme beliefs with him, and we often engaged in discussions about history and politics. I expressed my ideology regarding Steppe politics and my thoughts on Manchuria. Additionally, I confided in him about extreme literatures I had read, and extreme communities I have been engaged with, which he, of course, didn’t endorse. However, he mentioned that during the time when Japanese Americans were in internment camps, many people had read the same book I mentioned. Despite the unsettlement in some part of the history, He also emphasized the unity found in one God and one Lord, Jesus Christ.
Rev. Yoshida’s unwavering faith in God was evident in his energetic preaching style. He didn’t just read the scriptures; He embodied the characters he preached about as though he were a voice actor for a Christian film. His daughter and I shared secret giggles during his sermons, and the entire Yoshida family showed me kindness.
Only the Yoshida family, along with the other Catholic shelter and my home Anglican Church, dared to sample my experimental sushi creations. Despite its shortcomings due to ingredient limitations, Rev. Yoshida graciously consumed it all.
I was deeply saddened by his passing not long ago. I still remember his sermon on Jesus healing the officer’s servant, followed by discussions and shared oranges in the church basement. I pray for the resurrection of Rev. Yoshida’s soul, I hope that one day we will meet again in Heaven, provided I manage to avoid ending up in Hell.
So this crab canon is modeled on the Lord’s Prayer or Shu no Inori.
Then there is Father Angelo, the reason I became so pro-WendicSteppe, the reason I became a centrist, the reason I became a monk, and still struggle with fighting my life back into a spiritual lifestyle. While in the homeless shelter, I learned about hookup culture and thus became hedonistic. The shelter I mentioned before had a tiered system; as we didn’t break any rules for a while, we got a night out allowance every week. That’s the time most people went out for hookups, so I also adopted these trends. I wouldn’t regret it, but I wouldn’t want to continue more either.
The first time I ever felt attached to someone was through a random hookup. I was a teenager and stupid. I didn’t know the rules of hookups, so I accidentally fell attached to someone who shared similar tastes in music, was polite, and successful. During the end of that short-lived connection, I became frustrated, so I turned to a Hungarian Church on a Monday rainy night, which I called “Szomoru Hetfo”. I prayed to the Virgin Mary to free me from feeling attached to worldly desires. In that church was Father Angelo, who served a small Hungarian-speaking community. At the time, I still lived in that shelter, and during the day, I had nowhere to go, so I frequently visited that Catholic Church. On Sunday afternoons, I occasionally attended Hungarian services, though the only thing I could sing along with was “Uram Jezus,” then “Miatyank.” I went to that church almost every afternoon during the 6 pm prayer. Then on Friday nights, I went to a Russian Orthodox Church. In the early mornings, I went to a large Anglican Cathedral, and on Thursdays, I sang at our home Anglican Church. Those were the most religious days I had. I just went there to pray then shake hands with Father Angelo. Occasionally, I would light a candle to the Virgin Mary, and there were very nice Hungarian ladies who came to talk to me and asked if I ever needed any clothing.
Father Angelo remained a mystery to me until he passed away when many community news outlets started to talk about him. I feel like I was not the only one who had an identity struggle, but Father Angelo had a bigger secret that I didn’t know about. As a kindhearted priest who served a relatively more conservative church, many local Hungarian communities faced unjustified criticism. However, Father Angelo was truly blind to race and treated everyone nicely. He promoted higher education for kids and helped people with substance abuse problems. There was even a lesbian sister who wrote about Father Angelo and his support in telling her, “God will give you love when you’re ready for it, and when you get it, you will realize that it was worth all the wait and disappointments.” This church formed part of my childhood.
Unfortunately, the Vatican sent an order to close many local Hungarian, Polish, or other minority churches in the US in order to merge with other church communities. There isn’t a transparent answer as to why. I never saw Father Angelo after that. Then I heard the news that he passed away. I felt very sad; I had barely had enough conversations with him. I hadn’t asked him what it felt like to be a monk because I wanted to become one to free myself from all desires and follow the spiritual path. In fact, I started that journey, and I am halfway through it. I abandoned my old hookup lifestyle and gave up drinking with the help of my therapist. I pray more. I am so close to that goal now. I also changed my ideology from liberal to centrist. In fact, those identities are no more than worldly labels. I want God to guide me through what I should be, not those social bureaucrats who forced me to live a life they expected! I deeply appreciate Father Angelo’s service in that Hungarian community, which gave me a unique worldview. Driven by fate, I somehow met Father Ivan in a restaurant, and he talked to me, which later I realized he is the one now serving this Hungarian community that refused to merge with the other church that the Vatican assigned it to. I am glad that this community still exists. During this hard time, I will continue to pray for this community.
So this crab canon is based on a familiar prayer about “Uram Jezus.” The title is also inspired by Pinter Bela’s “Homokba Irva,” which I modified into “Homokba Rajz,” or “drawing in the sand.” It’s a phrase about writing in the sand and letting the wind take it away!
The last two pieces were satirical, which almost gave me a Stockhausen moment. The Nadasdy clan, a Hungarian clan I admire, belongs to an ancient order of serpent or dragon. I frequently Larp as Nadasy, even during my music history classes. Lipka Buryat symbolizes my refusal to join the eastern Multi-populism while also rejecting western multi-jingoism, let alone becoming part of multi-tokenism.
This piece draws inspiration from a couple of Balkan extreme nationalistic songs from Serbia, Bosnia, Kosovo, and Slovak merged with a similar melody of MagyarNepmesek. I’m not promoting the extreme side of those songs but rather aiming to turn that unrest into a harmonized melody in crab canon form to promote a truly tolerant reconciled aestheticism.
During my political career, I’ve been called many names, such as anchor child, people of fatherless society, or even worse. Certainly, my mother’s poor choice in marriage affected me, but our family was ex-noble; it’s not like my grandma was picked up from a garbage can or something. So those insults barely affected me. However, I know those who are actually affected by war, born as a result of opposing sides during violent conflicts. I feel deeply empathetic towards them.
I’ve talked to some of those extremists; we were neither friends nor enemies. I see myself in them, but at the same time, I understand that I was blessed by God, who sent so many nice people to help me. So, I want to pray for those marginalized communities. I’ve turned those unsettling nationalistic melodies into a harmonized piece in crab canon form to express this sentiment.
In this last piece, I indulged in a bit of trolling. That long name is for a German egg breaker. I admire those who insist that the full name be presented, as it has created a psychological effect; people won’t buy it if you translate it into English or remove any letters. This “eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacher” also fits into my new understanding of experimental music. It reflects both classical and experimental ideas, following Newton’s law, Humpty Dumpty style thermodynamics, and true avant-garde expressions, unlike those other sham avant-garde cheap old gimmicks with new excuses. So, this crab canon has an up and down; in the middle, there’s a melody similar to Humpty Dumpty, which symbolizes that all evil social bureaucracy will be defeated by TheoTechnocratic empirical laws and iron wills!
I don’t really have an American dream; my Berlin dream started in the Wedding district, which failed, thus I ended up in the US and started to love the USA. Likewise, I’m not a musician; I’m a failed programmer, but through music, all my old passions were linked together. Therefore, I shall not let other people dictate my life for me!
