Meet Vox Artist Amy Boers

Q: Vox: The Hollow Between Them places the pianist in an unusually intimate role - the unseen presence tethering Elle’s voice. How did you approach shaping that emotional undercurrent through the piano?

A: I always felt like I was one more color of expression for Elle.  It was as if I was breathing in the emotion that she expressed, and then allowing that to dictate my artistic choices and interpretations of Poulenc’s brilliant writing.  At once I was both with her grief, chaos or clarity as well as then the response of manipulation, redirection or breath.

Q: This version was filmed rather than performed live. How did playing for the camera and crew, instead of a traditional audience, alter your sense of energy, timing, or communication?

A: I LOVED this experience!  It was extremely intimate, but somehow for me as an artist took the traditional pressure off.  There was an “audience” per se, but it felt wonderfully collaborative and supportive.  It felt like everyone in that space wanted to together create something really special and that freed me up to play with abandon and try different things in the moment with Lucy. There were challenges with sight lines and instrument, but that never got in the way of the creation of an amazing story.  It was really special.

Q: You performed inside mezzo soprano Lucy Weber’s home, an environment filled with real textures and memories. How did that space influence your playing or sense of atmosphere?

A: I felt like it would be a challenge for Lucy. We didn’t talk about that, but perhaps I felt empathetic to her possibly needing to distance herself from her home and her reality. The cozy couch and overstuffed chairs that held good memories of true family and friends being interrupted by such pain and heartache. That empathy affects my playing, of course. So during filming breaks it did feel like I was breaking into a scene or time that wasn’t ours right then, but would become ours when the music began. I guess the textures and smells did make it all feel quite real and close.

Q: Poulenc’s score is both lush and fragile. How do you navigate the tension between restraint and intensity when supporting such a raw, exposed vocal line?

A: I think it really helps that I am also a singer so I understand how the accompaniment, whether it is an orchestration reduction like this opera or a separate piano part, can really support the singer in a variety of ways. I know what it feels like to sing the exposed lines or the ones that are particularly challenging that need more support underneath.  It really is one of my favorite parts of collaborating like this.  I hear the orchestration in my ear and work to make that come out in the piano simultaneously listening to the singer and adjusting to the nuances of our particular performance.  I find there is actually so much strength in the “holes" that are in the score - the rests and the distances between notes in a chord. Somehow the absence of stability becomes very powerful and present. And then it makes the lush writing even more sensual and tragic.

Q: Working in close collaboration with Lucy Weber and director Julia Benzinger, what kind of dialogue emerged between voice, piano, and vision during the process?

A: It was a dream to work with Julia and Lucy.  It was ever-evolving and without ego or fear.  I think I had an idea of what I imagined how the piano (and me, for that matter) would fit in this movie.  As I rehearsed with Lucy, I gained insight as to what the piano would provide, and then Julia’s vision turned some of that upside down but opened up more possibilities of how to use or not use the piano in the scenes.  The film team also was so amazing and they added a layer of insight and perspective to the creative process. It was very relaxed and clear even as we were attempting to film it in essentially one take.

Q: What does it mean, for you, to bring this 20th-century French work into a deeply personal, contemporary Pacific Northwest context, filmed in a living room rather than a concert hall?

A: I think being a part of this process was an embodiment of the mission of Rising Waters Collective. It was opera. It was real. It was old and new. It was relevant. It has the potential to be seen by people everywhere-anywhere, so it is accessible.  I just think we as artists in the 21st century have the privilege and responsibility to take music from a particular time and bring it to our time by finding the themes that are universal and contextualizing them.  This is the only way forward in my opinion! We don’t need to abandon beautiful music of a different time and place (like Poulenc’s), but instead can make space for it with more repertoire that has been typically underrepresented.

Q: You’ve performed across a wide range of operatic styles and composers. How does working within Poulenc’s score, with its shifting harmonies and conversational flow, connect to your broader journey of exploring different musical languages and emotional worlds through opera?

A: I love our performance of this opera because it felt a bit like art song to me. One voice and one piano.  There was an intimacy that occurred which was particularly important for this piece. It made it easy for me to dive into the emotional language in the score and libretto. In that way, it was a similar experience to much of the other work I do outside of the operatic genre.

Q: As a pianist, you often embody multiple voices - the orchestra, the world beyond the call, even the unspoken thoughts. Which “voice” did you feel most connected to in this performance?

A: I felt like my voice as the pianist took the form of Elle’s varied pressures, influences, memories, and fears. I was at times her lush memories of longing and satisfaction and a played as such only to be interrupted by the persistent pressure and bifurcated conversations.  It is one of the most challenging parts of this kind of music making, but also so rewarding.  I love going on that journey with the singer to create a world of imagination which becomes audible.  What a joy!