“I like to explore a lot of different compositional approaches and styles. I wouldn’t say my ideas, or my writing, is collaged from that — it almost makes my music sound fragmented — but actually, it feels more like a tapestry, because there’s a lot of elements to bring together in one piece.”
Tayla-Leigh Payne
Tayla-Leigh Payne is a Welsh composer and sound artist. Tayla’s work explores the intersections and intricacies of notation and electronics; her works vary greatly from classical contemporary, electronic, hybrid and audio installations. Tayla’s recent achievements and commissions include being Presteigne Music Festival’s Emerge Composer 2024/26, London Philharmonic Orchestra Young Composer 2022-23, BBC NOW’s Composition: Wales scheme, and BBC’s Music and Meditation Podcast in association with the BBC Concert Orchestra; her works have been performed in notable venues such as the Royal Festival Hall, Queen Elizabeth Hall, BBC’s Hoddinott Hall and St. David’s Hall, among others. Tayla graduated from the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama in Composition and Creative Technology; she is undertaking a masters degree at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London, studying with Sylvia Lim.
Tayla recently collaborated with choreographer Elina Saryazdi and the London Contemporary Dance School on ‘Where we meet’, premiering at The Place, London, in December 2024. Following the premiere of ‘Where we meet’, we caught up with Tayla at the British Film Institute, Southbank, discussing electronic music, dance, animation, landscapes, and continuously learning…
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Zyggy/PRXLUDES: Hey Tayla! Thanks for joining me today. We’re chatting following the premiere of ‘Where we meet’ — a collaboration between yourself and London Contemporary Dance School choreographer Elina Saryazdi, developed as part of the Guildhall MMus course. Tell me a bit about how the collaboration first developed?
Tayla-Leigh Payne: I’ll take it right back to the beginning of the project. At the very beginning of the project, we get paired with choreographers — and one of the things that really drew me to my choreographer was [that] she really enjoys exploring choreography in silence, without any sort of influence from music. I found that interesting. I was eager, as well, to see how I could use the dance to inform my musical material. To have less of that transactional collaboration of “here’s the music, and you set the choreography”. I wanted it to feel a bit more integrated.
From there, we just kept it really organic. Even when we were exploring initial ideas, we didn’t really put any pressure on ourselves to have a concept there from the beginning. We knew generally that we wanted to keep it quite abstract; start from two different “sides” and bring those ideas slowly together. That came through different processes, like filming the dance — and then I would formulate gestures and ideas through that; we had weekly showings, and workshops, to explore that further. Eventually, we drew our focus to how the dance could also echo aspects of the music, as well. It was incredibly collaborative. Eventually, we ended up with our concept; essentially, a journey of refinding yourself.
Tell me a bit more about the concept for ‘Where we meet’ — how do ideas of refinding yourself get incorporated into the piece’s structure and gestures?
It starts off with this idea that we’re all individual identities, in a very independent way — there’s no interaction with the musicians, and the dancers don’t necessarily engage with each other either. But their movements are very singular — and eventually, we arrive to this middle section that becomes and feels quite unified. It’s static, quite rhythmic, but all in uniform; but from there, they try and break from this unified mould.
[In the middle section] there’s a greater interaction with the musicians, and the musicians are greatly influenced by the dancers — a lot of the gestures, the dynamics, were dictated by the dancers’ movements, and proximity to them [the musicians]. When they eventually break from that, they are again more independent — more singular identities — but there’s more contact between the dancers, and greater acknowledgement of the musicians.
You scored the piece for both strings and electronics — what is it that you enjoyed exploring about the combination of acoustic instruments and electronics in this piece?
A lot of my process — especially when I bring electronics and notation together… What I really enjoy exploring is how you can take something from its most raw state to its most synthetic state. Strings, for me, are really fascinating to explore, because the instrument itself can sound both organic and synthetic at the same time. It can give you a greater scope to blend the two mediums together. I quite enjoy the marriage between electronics and acoustic instrumentation, especially when blurring the lines between them [electronics and acoustic instruments] to keep audiences engaged and guessing: okay, is this the instrument or the electronics? How far can I push that boundary and ultimately seeing it not simply as an “electronic” backing track and acoustic instruments, but one cohesive piece.
Part of that process was recording the musicians and sampling them. Doing it from both digital and acoustic aspects; processing from the digital side of things, and acoustically [figuring out] how that is orchestrated. So I would take samples of the electronics, and re-orchestrate; explore how we can blur the lines between the two. Initially, I had these pitch bends — which would open up opportunities to modulate in quite peculiar places. It’s a really nice blend of sounds, taking fragments of string gestures they can also emulate, or imitate, without feeling too disconnected. I had greater autonomy as to how I could pivot between [them], make those choices.
Tell me a bit about your compositional background — how did you first get involved with composition, and is working with electronics something that’s been quite intuitive in your practice?
I think similarly to a lot of people, my initial engagement with composition began through GCSEs — but it wasn’t until my A-Levels that I started to consider studying it. I did my undergraduate degree at the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama; and that particular course offered both notation and electronics in the same degree. It’s not two different pathways — you get to explore both simultaneously. That was my first time ever exploring music technology, as this wasn’t offered during my A-Levels. And it was quite daunting… -laughs- I had no experience, I’d never worked with DAWs or anything like that. My interest organically came to fruition through actually seeing other artists bring in both notation and electronic music; that marriage of those two mediums.
It’s interesting, because I was talking about this the other day — how electronic music seems like a particular strand, and a different approach to my writing — and the same with notation. They have their own features, but all simultaneously working at the same time. I think ultimately, the process itself is what I find fascinating; how they relate to each other, and how I can push the boundaries of all of those various and varying mediums themselves.
Tell me a bit more about how you incorporate electronics into your work — how did you first start exploring soundscapes?
I first started exploring that during my undergraduate degree — sound-sourcing, collecting sonic material — exploring how those processes are manipulated, and how far that can be pushed. Often, it’s starting with organic material — it’s not necessarily just acoustic instruments, but also field recordings, noise… Then I started exploring live electronics, plunderphonics — how I could replicate some of those spaces in more immersive sound worlds — but the difficulty with exploring that was always how you bring that to an audience.
I resonate with what you’re saying about accessibility for audiences — I understand your ‘MIXTAPE’ installation featured interactive elements?
I developed an interactive audio installation in my final year [at Royal Welsh]. I explored tapes, and manipulating tape sounds; but the audience had an active part in developing those manipulations, as well. They’re contributing to the processing of those sounds, too.
How that came together was, I essentially took various loop lengths of tape. I borrowed a walkman… -laughs- To literally snip up elements of tape, tape them back together, run them through, record those, take those elements, then process them through MaxMSP. The audience participation was based on their interaction with the sounding material through pressure pads. They didn’t see these pressure pads, as they were hidden under carpet — but essentially, after so many times of interacting with certain pressure pads, it would change and develop the material. But they also could dictate and explore where, in the space, the sound would travel; and how that travelled. It’s in a quadrophonic setup and there were nine pressure pads altogether. Through this, they could really dictate how much [of] the material they were hearing, and to what extent that got processed. There were other plugins that would change the register, or change the duration of certain loops, or add reverb to the electronics — things like that.
And that was really, really fascinating. Seeing people trying to figure out what’s happening in the space — because they don’t see what’s there — is always so interesting. That was quite fun. That sort of process is fascinating to me; how far these parameters can be explored and pushed in terms of the role of the composer and audience, and how an audience contributes to that — how can they contribute to that?
Conceptually, in terms of the material and tapes — where did that stem for you?
I just love the sound world of tape. It’s to do with the sound quality of analogue mediums — vinyl, tape. It really is as simple as the sound quality of it [that] really drew me to it. This warmth that tape has, especially, is really beautiful. I quite liked how practical it was to work with those materials and also how we bring analogue mediums to a digital space. Often, you can just be on your computer, manipulating those… And it’s nice to physically do those manipulations instead.
In terms of your “acoustic”, or notational practice — does that also relate to the ways we’ve chatted about practical manipulations?
I think there’s less of a relation. As I was mentioning earlier, it feels like my electronic practice is one “thing”, stylistically, and has very different characteristics. I just enjoy exploring harmony, and melodic features. I think that’s always something I end up gravitating towards. But one thing I do love exploring within notation, that is probably similar to electronics, is that idea of warmth. That lusciousness; the sound quality you can replicate from those recordings, but in an orchestral setting, chamber setting — whatever that might be. It’s the intimacy of the sounds. That’s probably, relationship-wise, what I really gravitate towards; having that sense, that presence, within my music, is what I really enjoy exploring.
That reminds me of the piece you composed for the London Philharmonic Orchestra, ‘Picture This…’ — which you’ve said before was inspired by visual art and animation?
The inspiration behind ‘Picture This…’ was to do with the visual arts. I decided to go through animations by Norman McLaren and Stan Brakhage. They’re quite abstract in their animations — at least, the ones I had selected. There were these really beautiful qualities. Again, I think it’s something to do with those analogue mediums and approaches. Norman McLaren would physically paint on to films; he also used a stroboscopic effect, which we see in works such as Pas de Deux, and it creates almost a delay effect within film — which was really fascinating to explore how that translated sonically.
Typically, when I use visual arts as an inspiration, I try and see what characteristics from that I can draw and replicate into the music. That varies in terms of to what extent that is — how literal some of those gestures might be — but because of the quality and warmth within those visuals, it reinforced this idea of more lush, blurred textures. Having more bold and abstract gestures. And it also informed the structure, too — there’s a lovely pace within those visuals themselves. It’s nice, because it felt like if I was ever really stuck, I could go back and refer to that; grab my ideas from those visuals again.
Would you say that your approach to composition is generally informed by those kinds of abstract processes?
Yes. I think the visual arts is probably the most consistent thing within my practice. It’s changed a lot especially after I graduated — I used to be much more experimental, particularly with my notation — and as I’ve become more familiar with my practice, I’m starting to find features that I enjoy writing, and interests I enjoy drawing from. I’m also in control of how much, and to what extent, that informs the material I’m developing.
I understand your piece ‘Polarity’ was influenced by some of the landscape works of Tacita Dean…
That’s really interesting. With ‘Polarity’, the landscape aspect of these works had less influence on the piece; it was the actual process and medium that I gravitated towards most. Those particular pieces by Tacita Dean were created on a chalkboard. They’re huge, these pieces of art; often, I thought about how that process looked like for her when approaching these pieces and again how that might inform my own practice musically. The monochrome aspects of that work had a sense of warmth which reminded me of the way we look at black and white images; the textures, qualities and the moments captured are what I focused on most when composing this piece.
You’ve recently started a Masters in Composition at Guildhall, after graduating from the Royal Welsh a few years ago. Did you notice any shifts in your practice going from your undergrad to graduating — and how did that impact your decision to go back into academia?
After graduating, I had more space to explore ideas and dig deeper into the sound worlds that I really enjoyed. It’s really funny; you go through years of having tutoring… -laughs- And being supported by faculty members, and them helping you steer and guide your music and practice — to being totally independent and thinking for yourself. Which comes with a lot of really interesting modes, and sometimes challenging modes. But I think that [it] organically came through from that; thinking of music I really enjoyed listening to, and being more aware of the approaches that inspired me, as well as external factors too.
Now, coming into Guildhall… During that period where I was freelancing out of education, it set me up ready to explore my practice more in-depth. That’s something I’m really looking forward to — understanding my practice just that bit more, within a sound world that is starting to take shape and evolve as my own. And how I can take that further.
You’re currently studying with Sylvia Lim — are there any particular insights she gave that have inspired you?
I feel like there’s so much. She’s so incredible at getting me to reflect, and sit with ideas or influences I have. And not confining myself; often, I would take and focus on a singular source or influence but she’s really great at getting me to expand that, and not to be afraid of having a lot of different ideas. I typically draw from a lot of different composers, stylistically — and she’s helped me to understand “okay, but where do these sit within my sound world or within a specific piece, how does that fit within my process and my approaches?” So, she’s really helped me to sit, dissect and reflect on those points — and how, ultimately, they come together to shape my sound world presently. I feel like she’s been encouraging me to explore that idea of “play” within my practice more too.
One of the larger projects you’ve done with Guildhall has been the LCDS collaboration we’ve discussed — what other pieces are you writing at the moment?
We’ve started [a] project for piano and strings — that [was] my Christmas project for the break. -laughs- That’s also drawing from the visual arts. But actually, this is where it comes into Sylvia’s [remarks of] “expand from the singular”; because I only took from one particular inspiration [before]. So I’m looking forward to seeing how that develops. I think I’ve come to realise [that] I like to explore a lot of different compositional approaches and styles. I wouldn’t say my ideas, or my writing, is collaged from that — it almost makes my music sounds fragmented — but actually, it feels more like a tapestry, because there’s a lot of elements to bring together in one piece. I’m looking forward to exploring that more in-depth with this particular project.
Again, coming from graduating and going into studies again — there’s something so incredibly stimulating about being in that environment, that creative environment. Encouraging the process, the approaches, the tools I’ve built since I graduated. I think one of the reasons I didn’t rush into a postgrad was to put the things I had learned into practice, and to see where that took me. That’s obviously got [me] to where I am now; and now I’m again approaching academia to expand that even further.
I guess it’s about taking what you’ve learned from academia into the professional world — and now you’ve done that once, going back into academia to expand that side of things.
Yeah. Growing my vocabulary, essentially.
To talk about your professional achievements — you’re the current Emerge Composer with Presteigne Festival for 2024-26. At the beginning of the residency, I understand they commissioned an orchestral work from you…
Yeah! Honestly, it was really lovely. This was done in partnership with the Radnorshire Wildlife Trust; this drew from the landscape of Pentwyn Farm in Radnorshire. So I did two site visits — one in the winter and one in the spring. It was lovely, because I got to chat with the volunteers there, and talk to them about what their plans were for Pentwyn Farm, and how they want to engage with the community through that. It used to be [a] farming landscape, and they’re trying to restore the landscape back to its natural state — as farming has had a particular impact on this.
Doing the two site visits was to see how things had changed and evolved since the last time. On the second visit, I gathered more organic sounds — I did field recordings, and tried to have elements of that transcribed within the music — and exploring these lush, very intimate sound worlds.
The inspiration came from a conversation with one of the volunteers from the initial visit. She just came up with a sentence of “we just want to help flourish the land again” — blodeuo is to blossom, to flourish [in Welsh], that’s where the title comes from. It’s funny how that singular conversation was really the catalyst for that piece. The piece is essentially a tone poem; we start off with this lovely violin solo, and that carries through the rest of the piece. There’s a lot of reflections within the piece; you hear how that evolution from [the] first visit to the second visit had changed and informed the sound world.
I understand you have some more projects with Presteigne Festival on the go at the moment?
Yes, I’ll be writing another piece for their next festival season in August (2025). That will be for mezzo-soprano, flute, and harp — so [I’m] really looking forward to that. What’s gonna inspire that is still to be decided. Throughout my Emerge Composer residency, I’ll be writing other pieces, attending a plethora of concerts — and getting lots of support and guidance by George Vass, as well.
It’s so fascinating that there are all of these different approaches in your practice that are osmosing into your work. How do you see all of these different mediums, approaches, and influences developing for you?
Let’s see what this degree does. -laughs- Honestly, I think that’s what I’m excited for. You’re constantly learning, all the time; it’s always an ongoing process. I don’t think there’s ever a point where your sound just settles — it always evolves. I really love the fact that I can explore these different mediums, as well; I don’t think I can sit into one thing. Stylistically, I think that’s why I draw from so many different composers, and why I explore electronics, both with notation and [without]. I like having a palette of sounds, a palette of approaches, to work with. Tacita Dean is a great example — she’s someone I use a lot visual art-wise, because she explores a lot of different approaches within her own art. Often, I used to think what I needed was to have a very focused sound world; and actually, that’s not the case at all. I think that’s what’s exciting; it’ll just keep evolving.
That’s a great mindset to have. It means that every piece you write is a little snapshot of where that evolution is at that moment in time.
It’s like a little timescale of my writing and the changes I’ve cycled through. Honestly, I can’t tell you how different it is from when I was doing my undergrad to now. I think part of that has come from being more confident in my practice, as well as the support I received from tutors and practitioners over the years. I think [my] education for composition really only kicked in when I did my undergrad, because I had incredible tutors who offered me a plethora of ways to express and explore my practice.
Ultimately, being in education, that exposure, was so significant to my development — and has been so significant to how I’ve evolved. The learning that I’ve had from each of those experiences have really informed my practice. It’s nice, as each project goes by — and even reflecting on ones from years ago — just how that has changed. I can see that I’m continuously learning, gaining things. Adding things to my vocabulary.
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Learn more about Tayla-Leigh Payne and her practice:
- https://www.tayla-leighpayne.com/
- https://soundcloud.com/user-338749561-389530865
- https://instagram.com/tayla.leigh.composer
References/Links:
- Norman McLaren – Pas de Deux (1968)
- Wilder Pentwyn Farm, Radnorshire Wildlife Trust
