Percussionist and composer Andy Akiho sees sound more than he hears it. This sensation, known as synesthesia, a perceptual phenomenon where stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to involuntary experiences in another, has no doubt contributed to Akiho’s vast and unique musical output.
The musician can be seen on April 3 at the Nimoy Theater in a trio concert presented by UCLA’s Center for the Art of Performance and also April 11–12 curating the San Francisco Symphony’s latest SoundBox program, “Sculptures.”
Born in Columbia, South Carolina, in 1979 and currently based in Portland, Oregon, Akiho became enamored with drumlines at the University of South Carolina and was subsequently accepted into the Contemporary Performance Program at Manhattan School of Music in 2007 (that program’s inaugural year). Two years later, he entered Yale University for his master’s degree in composition.
Akiho, now 46, has been on the fast track ever since, penning audacious works that unfold complex and surprising patterns while transcending musical boundaries. He is a seven-time Grammy Award nominee and was a 2022 Pulitzer Prize finalist. This season, he’s continuing in his role as the Oregon Symphony’s composer-in-residence, and recent major premieres of his have included Nisei (2024), a sweeping concerto for cellist Jeffrey Zeigler performed at the Sun Valley Music Festival, and Seven Pillars (2021), created for Sandbox Percussion and at select performances featuring choreography by Benjamin Millepied.
Akiho plays the steelpan, a musical instrument originating in Trinidad and Tobago, and he spent most of his 20s playing the instrument by ear; he only began writing music at age 28.
SF Classical Voice caught up with Akiho by phone from Oregon, where he was taking a breather from his hectic schedule. Topics included SoundBox, his composition process, and how winning the Rome Prize (awarded by the American Academy in Rome) was a turning point for him. This conversation has been edited for clarity and concision.
Let’s talk about Sculptures, the 2023 work that you made for the Omaha Symphony in honor of Ree and Jun Kaneko and that served as a musical tribute to Jun’s sculptures. He’s known for large, vibrantly colored works that dot Omaha’s landscape, and your composition consists of nine pieces, with some of the artworks themselves, including a massive bronze head, serving as unique instruments.
The Omaha Symphony was honoring Jun, and [Music Director] Ankush Kumar Bahl was conducting. The Symphony gave them a few composers to listen to blindly, and Jun responded to my music. We met over Zoom and then signed a contract a week later. I had access to the warehouses where Jun’s sculptures were, and then [the work] evolved into, “Why don’t you try tapping on these things?”
That evolved into me really playing them. They’re pretty durable and sometimes really loud. The bronze one — I was bowing on it, [playing it] with sticks, with mallets. I got to know these instruments. [In the score] there are whole diagrams of the sculptures, and they’re marked with where the pitches are. It was a fun process.
The recording of Sculptures was nominated for three Grammys last year, and the upcoming SoundBox event will incorporate some of those movements.
Yes, we’re doing the non-orchestral movements from that album, [with] some of the actual sculptures coming from Omaha, [and they] weigh over a ton. We’re also doing the brass-choir movement from that album, “Petroglyph.”
I’ll be performing on the sculpture movements, “Bronzes I and II” and “Cylinders,” and Jake Nissly, [SF Symphony] principal percussion, will also be performing. He’s playing a solo [of mine as well], “carTogRAPh” — the capital letters spell “TRAP” — and there will also be a cello soloist, [SF Symphony member] Davis You, who will be playing a piece by Missy Mazzoli.
The program is in three acts, all about 21 minutes long, with short intermissions between each act. It’s the first time I’m curating, [though SoundBox has] done one of my pieces, Oscillate, before. There is also going to be music by Julia Wolfe, Michael Gordon, David Lang, Paola Prestini, and Paula Matthusen.
Could you please elaborate on how you see sound more than hear it?
I have really bad ears, [but] I’m very visual. I don’t have perfect pitch — I have good relative pitch. When I’m improvising, I feel different pitches on the steelpan. I strike it, and I see red. The [note] D is orange. Those kinds of things.
When I’m writing or thinking about different chords, the clearer I see them, the more ingrained they are in me. If I lose the colors in the feeling of my music [when performing], I might have little memory slips. But it’s very strong when I’m improvising and coming up with material.
Sometimes I see shapes, but they’re more involved with rhythms for me. I try to describe that to musicians who don’t have synesthesia. It’s a way to feel rhythms — triplets are circles, [and] you play them rounder, too, especially prime numbers like three, seven.
It’s a different way to feel these rhythms. I think a lot of people [experience synesthesia] more than they realize, and not just musicians. Even if I can just shape harmonies, especially on the steelpan, you literally see these shapes because [the instrument is] circular. A diminished chord is a square, and an augmented chord is a triangle — literally — on a steelpan. If you were to draw a line between the notes, it’s a perfect triangle. You see these patterns rhythmically and harmonically and, especially for me, the colors.
The New York Times described your monumental work Seven Pillars as “pretty much as pure as music gets — it’s only ‘about’ its own structure and self-imposed constrictions.” Would you agree with that?
Yes, it’s really about nothing in particular. [In realizing the performance] we were trying to put a narrative or story on it, but nothing felt real. The number seven is so common in so many things: seven deadly sins, seven gods of fortune, seven pillars of wisdom. There are so many sevens in life. It was the right number. When I thought of [the piece] in 2013, I [knew I] wanted seven big movements with four players — 11 movements. It’s kind of palindromic architecturally, and all about music.
There’s a lot of structure and form in Pillars. The solos are more like a stream-of-consciousness feeling. [The work] was very, very personal to me, and [I was] outlining the personalities of the soloists [of Sandbox Percussion] that I wrote it for. The music came from an improvisatory place. I recorded myself for hours and hours and sculpted the piece like that. Pillars are more architectural — very specific in form — and within those confines, that opened a different set of creativity.
I didn’t have a commission to write the whole thing until 2019. It was nice to get to know Sandbox and workshop with them [because] I got to know exactly who I [was] writing for. I knew their strengths. It was an intense piece.
I understand that the Rome Prize proved to be a terrific experience for you— living in the Eternal City for a year, beginning in 2014.
They’ve said that the greatest part of the Rome Prize is the gift of time. That couldn’t [have been] truer for me, going there and being away from my normal day-to-day settings. I wrote more in that one year than I had in my life up until then.
I was surrounded by historians, artists — the magic of the city. I went to the Pantheon 100 times. I just walked everywhere and wrote in coffee shops, bars, all day and all night. I also had a nice studio [where] I wrote a lot of pieces, [including] my first ballet for Benjamin [Millepied], Septet. He commissioned it 10 years ago, but he hasn’t choreographed it yet. He choreographed Seven Pillars.
You also wrote orchestral works while you were there.
My first orchestral piece that wasn’t a concerto [was] Tarnished Mirrors. I also wrote a steelpan concerto for the National Symphony Orchestra in Washington, D.C., and Ricochet/Ping Pong Concerto for three [other] orchestras. I wish I could live every year of my life like that. I was able to focus on music, not having to remember meals. I forget to eat a lot if there aren’t people around me, especially when I’m in a writing zone.
I get easily distracted, [so] it was good to be in Rome. The first three weeks, I learned Italian, but I thought: “I’m here to write. Focus on writing.” I also traveled in and out for big premieres [and] got a chance to perform. I got a lot of mileage and a lot of music out of that year. It was super inspiring.
I’m wondering if you wear earplugs when you practice.
I should wear earplugs a lot more. My stepdad worked on hearing aids; he repaired them, [so] I should know better. For some reason, during my teen years, I was always the kid who wore earplugs. I got used to not wearing them, so I probably [have] lost a lot of the [high frequencies in my hearing]. But I forget to use earplugs, especially with steelpan, [which] is piercing.
What other artists would you like to work with whom you haven’t yet?
I want to work with [Memphis Jookin’ dancer] Lil Buck, and I would love to work with [Pulitzer Prize-winning rapper] Kendrick Lamar. I used to think it would be a cool collaboration. His 2015 [album] To Pimp a Butterfly, I relate to this, and we could do something way cool. I love his energy, and he’s so innovative.
Style is not what I’m attracted to; it’s the artist and the innovation. It doesn’t matter what style — hip-hop, anything is amazing. Even with my future, I just want to make good things that I’m really happy and excited about. Being honest in who I am — no matter the genre.
