My Awarded Projects
We Bring Flowers
“This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.” - Leonard BernsteinCreated By: Cobus du Toit
My Upcoming Events
Jared Redmond composes works which engage poetry, conceptual and theatrical elements, new notation systems, and Korean indigenous instruments and performers. His work is carefully constructed, patient, and emotionally intense. 2015’s A Bird With No Throat and “Pas de replâtrage, la structure est pourrie” display tendencies toward theatricality, amplification, and density of timbre. Black Flower Blossoming, for unaccompanied pansori singer and light, engaged texts of Korean modernist poet and martyr Yi Sang (1910-1937) in a meditation on solitude and in dialogue with theories of pansori epics. 2017 will see premieres of Down the Deep Stair for string quartet and soprano, and a new piece for DJ, live electronic hardware, and video.
Jared is also pianist in Boston’s experimental metal collective Ehnahre, and performs as half of Seoul-based free improvisation duo Beheaded. His studies include training under composers Steven Kazuo Takasugi, David Rakowski, Chou Wen-chung, and Steven Stucky, as well as formal studies and research experience on Korean traditional music. He currently divides his time between Boston and Seoul.
Black Flower Blossoming: 1. Open Field [검은꽃피다 – 1. 벌판]
music theater for unaccompanied pansori singer and light. 
This piece’s notation eschews almost all uses of the European 5-line staff in favor of a culturally syncretic notation based on the “learner’s markings” used by apprentice pansori singers, with theatrical directions. As in traditional pansori, the singer here embodies, narrates, and participates in the very space she describes in her text. It begins and ends in total blackness.
Text: 벌판 한복판에 꽃나무 하나가 있소.
(“Dead center of an open field there is a flowering tree.”) – Yi Sang
A Bird With No Throat
for flutist and light.  A ruined utterance. An ache – memory of an irrevocable loss. I conceive of this work as a tragedy: the flutist “sings” and “breathes” through the very instrument which denies him voice, denies him breath. But once the dim lamp’s illumination is extinguished (metaphorically, once the hope and vehicle of communication and connection is abandoned), does the bird finally transfigure? Does it finally “sing”?
This work was written for and premiered by Carlton Vickers.
“Pas de replâtrage, la structure est pourrie”
for electric guitar, piano, and electric bass doubling contrabass. [2012, rev. 2015] Named after graffiti from the Paris 1968 riots, this piece was an experiment in very free notation for a close-knit ensemble of players. With Boston experimental group Ehnhare, we developed this work into a unidirectional accumulation in which the delicate opening harmonies are eventually “revealed” to be germs of something more sinister, gritty, yet ultimately: ecstatic.