Ukrainian composer Anastasia Sysenko: My piece 'Freiraum' from the upcoming album was a dream of mine long before I actually created it

Anastasia Sysenko is a Ukrainian composer who promotes contemporary classical music and aims to enrich the world with her creativity. The composer will soon release three new works: "Sonata-Fantasia", "String Trio" and "Freiraum". She shared with Drive Music Media her thoughts on her mission in composition, her new pieces, and contemporary classical music.

Interviewer: When did you realize that your path was that of a composer?

Anastasia: I always recall a story when I reflect on this. At one of the composition department meetings when I was a student at the Lviv Conservatory, a graduate student said that a composer begins to take shape at 26 years old. He had heard this idea from an older composer and came to understand it around that age himself. I was about 20 at the time and shrugged it off skeptically. I knew people who had been writing music from a very young age or who had released their albums at 16. I started studying composition later and had several significant breaks. Now that I am 26, I feel that this age holds special significance in my life. It is precisely now that I am making important decisions that will shape my future as a composer. I understand that some achieve their dreams earlier, but I still have everything ahead of me. Throughout my creative journey, my parents have always supported me. They supported my decision to enter the music school and later the music academy to study composition. And now, when I am faced with choices about what to do next, their support remains unwavering.

Interviewer: Your works are performed by various musicians. But was there a first piece you created specifically for someone? What was your first composition?

Anastasia: My first original music appeared in college as part of a homework assignment. I was studying theoretical music and we were given a task to write preludes for children for pedagogical practice. I remember sitting at the piano early in the morning and starting to create music. My brother, who was in the next room, came out and was surprised that it was me playing. He said he had dreamt of angels playing my melodies. After submitting the preludes, one of the teachers who was leading an elective composition class came up to me and said, "Nastya, you're a composer! Come for individual composition lessons." That’s how I began studying with Margarita Volodymyrivna Demidenko. Under her guidance, I wrote my first full compositions – Two Preludes for Piano, which were supposed to be part of a cycle called "Seasons," a cycle that remains unfinished. These preludes are connected to a very painful story for me. I wrote them for a nationwide composers' competition, where I won second place. This upset me greatly, as the competition awarded places to all participants, and I didn’t even make it to the laureates. At that time, I thought about quitting music. I also remember dedicating one of my compositions to a person for whom I had feelings of infatuation.

From that chance meeting in the Organ Hall, it was like a "click" in my head. These feelings would fade and then become stronger again. Being very shy, I found it difficult to express my feelings directly. So, I wrote a romance to a poem by Lina Kostenko, "With Your Eyes, You Told Me: I Love You". Although in reality, this person didn’t say anything to me with their eyes. I just wanted to write a romance to those words. The initials fit well with the musical key, just like mine – Anastasia Sysenko: As, A-flat major or possibly A-flat minor. I chose the major key because, according to music theory, our keys became parallel. At the end of my romance, I played with the triads of these two keys. Then life unfolded in such a way that after another unsuccessful experience in love, I gathered the courage to express my feelings, but he politely rejected me. It was sad, but perhaps it was meant to be. Now I feel the same as in "our keys" – a sense of parallelism. But I still enjoy listening to that romance. For quite some time, the key of F minor has just been a key to me. I no longer feel either that person or my strange emotions there. I will have another work with a dedication – a string trio. But the memories of the person to whom it is dedicated are still fresh, so I won’t talk about it just yet.

Interviewer: You classify yourself as a composer of contemporary classical music. Can you tell us about this genre: what makes it special? How does it differ from existing classical music?

Anastasia: I am a composer of contemporary classical music. You’re asking how it differs from the classical music we know from past eras. What we call classical music developed over various historical periods: Baroque with Bach and Handel, Classical with Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven, Romanticism with Schubert, Chopin, and Liszt, and then various movements of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Classical music has always evolved. Today, in the 21st century, classical music continues to evolve. At first glance, contemporary classical music might seem unfamiliar, especially if you're not acquainted with its characteristics. It's perfectly normal to attend a contemporary classical music concert and not understand it. The musical language of contemporary classical music is very different from that of Mozart or other classical composers. However, some techniques that were popular in the past are becoming relevant again in new contexts. Interestingly, Mozart himself may have seemed very innovative and even unusual in his time, but now his music is considered classical. I would like to note that I am still a young composer, and therefore my work is actively developing. I am in a process of searching and experimenting, trying to find my voice in the world of contemporary classical music.

Interviewer: Improvisation is like a second name for me. Could you tell us a bit about this aspect of your musical journey? Why is improvisation so special to you?

Anastasia: Here comes a rather clichéd phrase, but I have been passionate about improvisation since childhood. As soon as we got a piano at home and I was enrolled in music school, I eagerly created my own music instead of practicing boring scales and etudes. However, my musical path took a turn, and I spent only a short time in the piano department before switching to the vocal-choral department. Then there was a period of hiatus from studying at the college. But during that time, in the midst of my first infatuation, I rediscovered improvisation. The piano became my friend and solace during a difficult period, as my first relationship ended poorly. After that, I put improvisation aside for a full eight years. However, the year before last, due to the arrival of a special person in my life, I rediscovered this area. Now, I enjoy improvising on the piano in my free time, expressing my deepest thoughts that are sometimes hard to convey with words. Recently, I caught myself thinking that I always have new musical ideas and melodies flowing through my mind. Therefore, my project with improvisations and the opportunity to share this music with others has brought me great joy.

Interviewer: You have a piano album titled Her Story planned. Could you tell us a bit about it: what compositions will be included, and why is it called Her Story?

Anastasia: I had the idea of creating a piano album for about six months. When significant changes occurred in my life, I returned to Chernihiv from Lviv and started over. I was looking for a new job, trying different positions, and working to create a comfortable living environment. My parents were a great help during this time. I spent a lot of time improvising because I felt like I hadn’t been able to express myself for a long time. Not all conversations are equally helpful. If you constantly listen to others and don’t have the opportunity to speak your mind, you start to feel unwell. Without space for your own thoughts and emotions, such communication can be destructive. As I was starting from scratch, I spent a lot of time at the piano. Music has always been my support, especially in moments of despair. Although music cannot always heal all wounds, it can provide a sense of cleansing and catharsis. I improvised to leave behind something like diary entries. I wanted to be able to listen to these recordings years later and, with a smile or perhaps even tears, relive those moments.

Interviewer: What are the trends in contemporary classical music development in Ukraine? What is the most challenging aspect for a composer writing classical music? Share your experiences.

Anastasia: I need to clarify that my comments on the state of contemporary classical music in Ukraine are from my personal perspective. I have experienced several traumatic situations that shape how I see things.

For me, contemporary classical music in Ukraine relies heavily on enthusiasts who actively support and promote new Ukrainian composers. While there are various opportunities for composers in Ukraine, there are significantly fewer opportunities than there are composers. Of course, this doesn't include the period of study at the music academy, where the department organizes premieres for young composers. For example, at the Lviv Conservatory, there were many opportunities for me. However, after graduating from the academy, there is a painful silence. The graduate composer must take care of themselves. One of my colleagues, whom I greatly respect, told me directly: "Nastya, these opportunities were hard-earned for me, so I can’t just share them with you." I completely understand her – if I were in her place, I would have said the same. Those who are fortunate enough to have their works performed by leading ensembles are in the minority. I’ve also noticed that it’s mostly the same people who get these opportunities. Such a shortage of opportunities creates unhealthy competition, provokes jealousy and disappointment, which can lead young composers to abandon their dreams. There is also a fear of applying for new opportunities to avoid facing the pain of failure again. There’s a meme that suggests the contemporary classical music scene is “closed” and “for the chosen ones.” This is not without reason: to have your music performed by leading ensembles, you need (in my observation) to meet strict standards, including mandatory innovation, so musicians “don’t waste their time on pink romantic ponies.” At the beginning of my composing journey, there was an incident where I applied for a masterclass. During the session, musicians laughed at my ideas because I didn’t know many contemporary techniques. I really hope they don’t do that anymore. And if someone says this is just “natural selection,” do you really think that’s okay? It’s a tragedy that young talented composers have to go through this. It’s not natural selection; it’s a meat grinder, a survival game. Instead of encouraging young composers to develop, these conditions only make things more difficult and traumatic. I’m sure I’m not the only young composer with these thoughts. I just have the courage to speak about it. For now, I can only accept the situation as it is and seek out my own performers who will play my music so it can live on stage, as it should.

Interviewer:You are currently preparing for the premiere of several works. Can you describe the process of working on them and what they are about?

I’m very excited to share news about the new releases I’m working on. However, I must warn you that I won't be able to provide exact release dates since I am handling most of the final touches myself. Due to my busy schedule, I can’t say when everything will be ready.

The first release I’d like to discuss is "Sonata-Fantasia," a duet for two pianos. It brings to mind the quote from Monk-Zappa: "Talking about music is like dancing about architecture," but I’ll give it a try. Imagine listening to music that feels like a movie, where the protagonist goes through a series of emotional states. It starts with unresolved pain, tension, something oppressive. But suddenly, a secondary theme appears – a glimmer of hope, a sense of lightness. It’s like someone is taking your hand and guiding you through this pain, helping you overcome it. While the protagonist tries to resist the pain, wishing to speed up time or look further ahead, they get lost in their thoughts. Despite this, an invisible force continues to guide them, and they begin to hear their own voice more clearly. It’s intermittent, anxious, but still your own. Desperate attempts to overcome the pain repeatedly turn into cautious, yet hopeful, attempts to find harmony. And then, their voice becomes calmer, more melodic. It seems the protagonist finds peace, but suddenly everything returns to the initial state – unresolved pain. The beautiful melody that was beginning to harmonize suddenly becomes unstable, trying to "extinguish" the pain and regain balance. These attempts gradually turn into appeals to the universe, a yearning for something higher, endowed with tonal tension. The breath of the music becomes more uncertain, the intervals between the notes compress, scatter, but then come together again into a whole. The melody starts to come alive, with wave-like movements merging into harmonies. The intervals become increasingly complex, like a kaleidoscope creating new, unexpected combinations. After that, the music acquires a menacing rhythm, with rises and falls. Ascending intonations permeate the stream of sounds, and the melody gradually fades, as if taking a moment to rest. But it doesn’t stop; it continues to develop, rising, falling, trembling, searching for new paths. And then, at the very end, everything suddenly quiets down. The material from which the music is composed seems to freeze but continues to live in new rhythms and bright harmonies. The melody plays freely, lightly, and something familiar yet renewed emerges. It’s a journey through pain, resistance, the search for harmony, and hopeful light that ultimately gives a sense of inner freedom.

The second release is a String Trio that I’m working on in collaboration with a recording studio. I haven’t chosen a title for this piece yet. As I mentioned before, this music is dedicated to a special person, and it's hard for me to talk about it. However, I’ll try to describe its general essence. It begins with a motif born from the feeling of love. At first, this motif is performed by the piano, and then it is picked up by the violin and cello, weaving their voices into a single whole. The melody gradually develops, acquiring new shades and emotions. At first, it carries a swift, exhilarating flow of love. But in the middle section, the music suddenly changes – it seems to stumble. The feelings grow again, but this time it's not bright love, but drama, despair, passion, dissatisfaction, arguments, and protest. In the finale, the two voices attempt to return to the beginning, but they fail. Finally, the third release is "Freiraum," a piece for ensemble that I wrote in 2024. What could music with such a mysterious title be about? In my work, I enjoy exploring various emotional states such as aggression, anger, anxiety, depression, and despair. I am particularly drawn to dissonances. Interestingly, in the medieval era, dissonances were considered unpleasant, whereas in contemporary music they can express depth and beauty. They are alive, pulsating, breathing. My music sometimes sounds like an incantation, sometimes like an echo of something mystical. In this composition, as in many of my works, the protagonist seeks inner peace. They strive for harmony, which unfolds in the third part of the piece. But is it truly peace, or perhaps the beginning of something new? Regarding the title, which translates from German as "free space," I don’t want to reveal all the details. The story behind it is so enigmatic that it's hard to believe. But I’ll give you a hint: Have you ever had a dream where you hear music that you only write down months or even years later? Fascinating, isn’t it?

Interviewer: Which of all the compositions you’ve created holds special significance for you? Why is it particularly meaningful?

Anastasia: Each of my compositions has its own special significance for me. I've shared stories about a few of my works, and now I want to talk about “Map of the Desert.” This piece is truly special to me. It has garnered a lot of views on YouTube and received many positive reviews from friends, acquaintances, and followers. But that’s not the main reason I cherish it. I simply love this music for its boundless tranquility and for the feeling it evokes, allowing one to relax and let go of all worries. If music could be therapeutic, I would say that “Desert Map” has a therapeutic effect.

Interviewer: What is your mission in the field of composition?

Anastasia: I am a composer and a creator. Like all creators, I have a mission – to share my artistry with the world, to improve it, and to enrich it.

My perception of the world is based on deep reflection and emotional states. Music is where I feel most at ease, as the nuances of my perception align perfectly with this art form. I experience the world as music; everything sounds to me. But it's not about material things like objects or planets; it's about emotions, impressions, and feelings. For example, I can't describe a chair through music, but I can convey the sense of comfort or discomfort I feel when sitting on it through sounds.

Pictures were taken by Geneviève Stronska, Juliia Zaytseva