For a concert in a unique venue, I wrote a program note in the form of an extended simile of faces and walls.
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Most of the press is quick to tout the needle-in-a-haystack aspect of Zachary Turpin’s research. However, a relentlessness belies this air of serendipity around his literary discoveries.
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I never put too much stock in drawing sharp lines between our influences and our own work, but let's follow blurrier ones from a short opera I wrote into the philosophy of faces, the poetics of plastic surgery, and the art of lucid dreaming.
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