Name: Minhwi Lee
Occupation: Singer, songwriter, composer, producer
Nationality: South Korean
Current release: A re-release of Minhwi Lee's debut solo album Borrowed Tongue is out via Alien Transistor.

If you enjoyed this Minhwi Lee interview and would like to find out more about her music, visit her official homepage. She is also on Soundcloud.   



Is there a preparation phase for your process? Do you require your tools to be laid out in a particular way, for example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

If there are some thoughts constantly circling in my head, I try to figure out why they are there and why they keep following me.

Not surprisingly, most of the time, at the end of chasing the origin of these concerns, I find they are connected to my home and relationships—including the family that I built up until this very day in a way. As I refine these thoughts, they tend to be focused on one subject and from there, I make this big question which can be universal with slight hope that it could resonate with others as well.

For example, on my first album, scattered ideas were connected to my personal issues with a few people in my life in particular. But I could narrow it down to something like “why do we keep losing our tongue”. Yes it’s a big, big question and there are limitless ways to answer this question. However, since there was a strong motivation which provoked this question in the first place deep down in my mind, I could proceed believing that there might be some proper ways to find those answers by myself.

Usually the next steps follow naturally once I start answering the question. In this stage I research as much as possible, as well as reflect on my past. I look up other people’s work—articles, books, and videos. I cannot reveal the subject and question of my second album that I am currently working on, but the most recent book I've read about this work as reference is Frederic Pajak's Immense Solitude, and the movie was Sicilia! by Straub–Huillet. Can you guess what the subject is?



When the second album comes out, I think it will be fun to guess what kind of connection it might have had with those references.

For you to get started, do there need to be concrete ideas – or what some have called a 'visualisation' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

It doesn’t need to be specific, but thinking in images is definitely important. As I mentioned earlier, if you look for answers to questions, images and specific composition or arrangements follow naturally. When the work builds its own narrative, images are already there.

I am not sure if it has anything to do with the film scoring works that I’ve been doing over 10 years. But maybe it does.

Do you have certain rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating? What role do certain foods or stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise or reading poetry play?

When I’m done, I write a retrospective journal and I clean my room thoroughly. Then I feel that my mind is ready for the next task. I don't attach much importance to food or anything.

When work doesn't go well or when I'm anxious, I touch the bellies of the cats I live with (Hodong and Cheol yi), they are very good listeners, too.

What do you start with? How difficult is that first line of text, the first note?

Spread out the music sheet, hold a pencil, and sit down. If I grab an instrument, my hands go for easy chords or progressions (because I'm not a great player), so I tend to write directly on a music sheet that has no physical limitations at all. It helps to create freely. (But now that I wrote this answer, it seems like the paper could be a physical limitation as well. Hmm)

It’s not difficult to sketch any notes on the paper, the difficult part is to move the notes on the paper to something you can listen to. It’s terrifying that I might not be capable enough to convey those written notes to the ideal audible work.

It’s a really stupid fear, because I already know that there is always a huge gap between idealized thoughts and the output. And in fact, a lot of fun things can pop up during the recording session. But knowing that doesn’t help me from getting afraid to start recording.

I know there are many artists who just go for recording things, because recording has become their casual routine and they don’t use pencils and papers to sketch. But I am who I am ... It's a kind of a fear that I have to get over with.

When do the lyrics enter the picture? Where do they come from? Do lyrics need to grow together with the music or can they emerge from a place of their own?

If I don't have a story I want to tell, I don't start anything, so it seems that the theme comes out first, and then lyrics and music go roughly together.

The pronunciation and meaning of words influence the music (and vice versa), so I try to minimize the conflicts between the elements.

What makes lyrics good in your opinion? What are your own ambitions and challenges in this regard?

I want all my works to give a little tension to those who accept it (the degree to which it is irritating might differ), or to leave a repercussion. To be honest, it is not interesting if neither the content nor the format of a work (mine or anyone else’s) is challenging.

For me, good lyrics are the ones that you dwell upon after listening, and that can be interpreted in different ways.
 
Once you've started, how does the work gradually emerge?

Choose a theme, do research, develop lyrics and melody together. The speed seems different every time. There are cases where it comes all at once, and there are cases where I can't go further even if I hold it for a long time.

Many writers have claimed that as soon as they enter into the process, certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands. Do you like to keep strict control over the process or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?

Because I start with my personal experiences, I always try to find a balanced point where my question can be accepted universally.

However, in reality, every work is already universal in its own way. Because even if you stitch surreal elements together in your work, people will find the reality in it eventually; every time you tell your story, people will find their own stories in it.

But it is nonetheless important to filter and control how this work will reach other people, and how much will be revealed in this story, while the work is still within my hands.

Often, while writing, new ideas and alternative roads will open themselves up, pulling and pushing the creator in a different direction. Does this happen to you, too, and how do you deal with it? What do you do with these ideas?

When I face new ideas and images during the work, I welcome them, but it takes me some time to examine where they came from and the effects they have etc. I don’t know ... I often find myself being too picky and strict when I do my work, I think it’s because I treat my solo project as storytelling.

For me, music is a medium I can wield to tell the story.

Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you personally allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practice?

Our ears get tired easily and tend to become dull when they are used to listening to certain things repeatedly. So I let myself listen to what I made every day with fresh ears, like the brewing process. From my experience, the longer this process, the better. I stop to make changes the day when I want to continue listening, without wanting to make any adjustments.

I am trying to not be too judgemental or cynical about my work long after it has been released—although in many cases I am—because I know that that was the best at the moment and it is meaningful to capture that time of my life.

After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?

In my case, the emptiness comes in two different ways. One is from the feeling that I have now been released from the thoughts that have been holding me for so long, and the other is from realizing that I am a human being who can't help but care what other people think as well.

During the making process, I put immense effort into not caring about others but when it’s out, I am curious how people will see the work. I know it’s not something that I can control, and at the same time it’s the charm of making art: the undefinable aspect of work is maybe the motivation to proceed to the next step.

Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you personally feel as though writing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?

In the grand scheme of things I think it's similar. Every making process has its own history and thoughts behind it. But relatively, art emphasizes retrospectiveness. And I tend to try to focus on this aspect here.

I hope the person who accepts my work is reminded of something that they have forgotten or ignored about themselves or other people, and in the process forms a unique and irreplaceable relationship with my work.