An Evening with Vesolo

A discussion of music coupled with identity and ice skating.

Photography: Dakotah Malisoff
Styling: Vesolo
Creative Direction: Magdalena Roman

Orginially shot and written in December of 2019 for a now-defunct-publication, I am reviving this piece from the depths of HDD-hell on it’s third anniversary. I’ve polished up the original interview to make it more coherent, otherwise, it remains as it was. And with that in mind, enjoy!

Having just gotten off a boat where SOPHIE performed, Vesolo (Vee) and I met in September of 2018 on the docks of Boston Harbor. They were with Dakotah, our photographer (and Vee’s cousin), smoking cigarettes and hanging around other groups of mismatched and blended fans. Vee wore a pink velour tracksuit with an afro and platform heels. I inserted myself into the small mass that waited to get a glipse of SOPHIE. Maybe to speak with, maybe to be in awe of. After she walked off the boarding platform, looking spent yet etheral (she was on tour, having previously been in Montreal the night prior), the handful that was left decided that we’d make the next move together and go to an after.

At this point I had just come back to Boston after 5 months in Montreal. I did not know Boston had a “scene” of similar calibar that I was now accustomed to in Quebec. A true “after” in Boston is akin to a preacher in a strip club. Far and few between, not quite impossible, but certainly not of the norm. Vee was the breath of fresh air and new-familiarity that I craved in the WASP mecca that I grew up in. We ended up going to the Dorchester Art Project, a new initiative, which hosts events, parties, and “afters” for the surrounding community. I've spent a large chunk of my life in Boston and in a single, pivotal, night I was shown the underbelly of a completely different city. All in part to this tall and beautiful person, dripping in velour, I met on a pier.

The day of the shoot was one of the coldest December days in Boston. We shot in Vee and their boyfriend's apartment located around the campus of Berklee College of Music, of which Vee is a former student. We caught up after having not seen each other since summer.

The images captured by Dakotah were supported in part by:

1. Vee's boyfriend's borrowed Gucci slacks that were torn during shooting
2. Lots of Pat McGrath
3. Loose tobaco
4. The korean food we had after this very interview

"I see my Indigenous ancestry as being really sacred and also something that I am afraid to touch a lot of the time because I feel like it's so fragile." - Vesolo

Magdalena: Who are you? How do you identify? In all aspects. Racially, musically etc.

Vesolo: Who am I? My name is Vesolo, hello. I think the gender identity that resonates more with me recently is gender-fluid. But definitely not in any conforming sense. As for my race, I’d say mixed race. Ethnically I’m Polynesian and European. Southeast Asian as well.

I’d call myself a performer more than a musician right now. I guess because I feel like my music project is more of a performance project. That's what I've been realizing recently. Just because I haven't released anything, I’ve just been doing shows.

M: How did you start making music and performing? What came first?

V: The first song that I really learned how to sing and liked to sing was Silly of Me by Deniece Williams. My Mom listened to a lot of these soul divas when I was a little kid. I guess I started getting into music from, just as a kid, going to a lot of reggae concerts, seeing these people singing on stage with their amazing voices.

I just wanted to do that. I got into performing from theatre. I was a musical theatre kid. I did theatre and opera as a kid for awhile and then I started playing violin. My first instrument that I really learned how to play was the stand up bass. I definitely started doing music in a more organized sense through theatre and orchestra. Once I got older and started being independent in what I listen to, I got more into electronic music and now that’s my gig.

M: Wow, that’s such a jump. How did you transition from orchestra, reggae and I guess more "classical/conventional" forms of instruments and music to electronic?

V: Honestly, I've never even thought about it.

M: Was it a slow transition?

V: Yeah I think so. Well, I started getting into electronic music once I got a digital audio work face on my computer other than Garage Band. I was using Garage Band for a long time. Once I got Ableton I started experimenting with sounds and then I realize there's this essence of rebellion almost that's in electronic music. I wasn't really getting a satisfactory dose of that through theatre.

Conventional theatre at least, which is what I was doing. There's definitely experimental theatre out there that's really punk and sort of goes against the grain, but I was never really into that. I got into electronic music once I started listening to Bjork. I didn't listen to Bjork when I was a little kid but once I started listening to artists like her and like The Knife, I started really getting into electronic.

A neighbour in the unit above us starts aggressively singing Lady Gaga

M: We all had our Born This Way phase.

V: Not me.

M: You never listened to …

V: I never had a Gaga phase.

M: Seriously?! Oh well ... it’s coming.

"In Tonga the people were making these looks out of necessity. The resources that they had were nature, but now the nature that we have to pull from is more synthetic. More metal and concrete." - Vesolo

M: How do the classical forms of music you learned early on influence the music you make now? Does it?

V: Definitely I think it does. It's sort of a subconscious thing too. I sort of am subconsciously composing, as opposed to really experimenting. I definitely go by writing music from a compositional standpoint usually. I really like laying out rhythms with words and melodies, as opposed to using random noises. I want to definitely in the future become less organized with the way that I make music because I want to make a sort of chaotic sound that's more organic.

The first couple songs I wrote were on a piano using very cliché chord patterns. But I don't know I... I'm not sure the classical sense of music forms my performative identity at all though. Whenever I do a show, I'm definitely not trying to be classical in a western sense. Definitely theatre and performing in the theatre was a really good way to train myself to be able to perform for people.

Having the theatre background has definitely made me comfortable in portraying something, like an idea, on stage for other people. I'm also trying to get out of my head in that sense to sort of stop performing for other people. I want to learn how to just perform for myself so that I come away from a show feeling like regardless of anyone else's opinion, I did well.

M: What was the most impactful experience that you still draw inspiration from?

V: My Grandmother's death and her funeral was really inspiring to me because when a person dies in a Tongan family the funeral is two weeks and people from all around the world come for this two week long ceremony. During the ceremony I heard instruments I had never heard in person before. I heard all of these spiritual songs being performed by my family and that was the catalyst for this project that I'm currently working on.

I'm still trying to think up a name for it. It hasn't really come to me. I was thinking about naming it after my Grandma. Her name was Kelesi. On the project I’m working on I learned how to play the nose flute which is a really spiritual instrument in Tonga.

The Gaga neighbour starts playing violin

V: Wow, now they're playing violin. Multi-faceted.

M: TALENT. Multi-disciplinary.

V: But yeah, my Grandma's funeral really inspired me to make a musical project that will propel this Indigenous narrative to the future. It's really cool to get to know all of these sounds that I had never heard before and to contextualize them to fit with what I want to do with myself and my music.

M: Since you mentioned the project, tell me more about it.

V: I have a couple songs on this EP I'm working on that I'll hopefully be sending out in the next couple of months. It's about trying to de-colonize my music process in a way. I've gone about making music my whole life from this compositional standpoint and viewpoint. I want to really be able to sort of channel these influences that were kind of forced to disappear. Whenever families come from different parts of the world to America, we're forced to assimilate so a lot of our culture is lost.

One thing about Tongan and a lot of Indigenous music is that it's really different from western music. Tongans pass down music and songs by speaking them. They don't write them down or anything. You can't really impose notes or note heads on a Tongan song because their rhythms and cadences can't really be translated to a piece of sheet music. The whole project is just about trying to figure out a way to bring this identity that's being almost flooded figuratively and literally because, I don't know, water levels.

We both laugh

I'm just trying to bring a sense of this untouched resource into an electric setting.

"I want to learn how to just perform for myself so that I come away from a show feeling like, regardless of anyone else's opinion, I did well." - Vesolo

M: What does the process of conceptualizing a look, look like? How does it tie into the music and the project?

V: The way I’m going about looks for this project is completely different from what I’ve done in the past. I take inspiration from 90s music videos. I have this song called Bullets and it's sort of an electronic banger and almost pop-ish hit. For that music video I wore a lot of latex. Whenever I conceptualize a look, it's automatic. I don't really do it intentionally. I'm intentionally putting these pieces together to form something, but the concept is innate. It's also perceived by everyone differently. When I see certain looks for example, I see outfits that remind me of the underground club scene.

For this project I'm trying to make an Indigenous futurist outfit. In Tonga we make clothing out of sugar cane, grass, coconuts and shit so I'm trying to recreate these looks with other materials like hair and leather. You know, more modern things, because now I have the resources to do so and in Tonga the people were making these looks out of necessity. The resources that they had were nature, but now the nature that we have to pull from is more synthetic. More metal and concrete.

M: Yeah, we are pulling things from nature here but our nature is different.

V: Yeah, the setting and the landscape aren't untouched anymore. It's not purely nature anymore. It’s a sort of metropolis of structures that were created by Man. I'm trying to figure out a way to imitate these ancient aesthetics with modern materials.

M: In a world where everyone has access to create more than ever before, what does it mean to be a musician and what does a musician look like?

V: When everyone has access to it? Like if people had laptops?

M: Yes, like how back in the day being a musician was very cut and dry and now you could literally just have a laptop and be a musician.

V: Let's say if Etta James had Ableton, she’d be able to do it and people given the resources can. I don't know! The music would sound completely different, right? Things like Ableton and laptops can make anyone an arranger and anyone a composer now. It’s really interesting to think about. Like what if during the American industrial revolution we could record sounds. That would make the musical landscape of today completely different.

I was watching this video about ice skating yesterday. They were talking about how fifteen years ago Quadruple jumps weren't even conceivable. People thought it wasn't humanly possible to do four revolutions in the air. But then it happened. Now because one person did it, it's the norm. It's like, if you can't do a quadruple then you aren't considered top tier.

M: Just from fifteen years?

V: Yeah! There was this guy being interviewed and he was talking about how when he was a figure skater his team only did triple jumps. Triple axles or whatever they're called. But now what was considered humanly impossible is now the norm. Now people are trying to see if it's possible to do a quintuple jump. Which right now is considered humanly impossible. When one person does it though and once it becomes humanly possible for one person, then that’ll be the norm. Everyone will be doing five spins in the air.

If people were given the access that we have now, like Ableton and making electronic music, then I don't know what we’d be doing now. Maybe that's what I should be doing. Maybe that's what I should be figuring out. What's the next thing? I don’t know the answer to that question at all.

“My definition of success has changed a lot. I used to want to be a huge super star. I wanted everyone to know who I was. What my music sounded like. I wanted my sound to be recognized by everyone. Now what I want is more so respect.” - Vesolo

V: Back then these engineers and producers were like a monopoly. You could only go to so many record labels. If people like Billie Holiday and Etta James were given the power that those engineers and producers had, I don't know what it would sound like. It'd be really interesting though.

M: How does your family feel about your creative path?

V: My family wants me to sing.

M: You also come from two completely separate identities. How do they feel about it independently?

V: My Mom is Polish and Russian Jewish. They definitely just want me to be a singer-songwriter. If I were to do anything else like become a psychologist or therapist, my family would be gagged. If I went into anything else they’d be like what the fuck. They’d be like “Why are you wasting this talent, that WE gave you”. Both sides of my family are supportive of me being creative, but in one sense only.

I showed my Grandma this video where I started a show by covering Roy Orbison, singing a ballad. She loved it. In the video I wore a pink two-piece suit and blonde hair. She loved that part. I went into this other song that's a bad bitch anthem and took my clothes off revealing just a corset and underwear. When she saw that she looked sick. She definitely didn’t like that aspect of my performance, but I recognize that it’s a time thing.

She grew up in a time where the only sort of music recognized were sung like Roy Orbison and Elvis. Singers who were just singing with a band. What isn’t on her radar are musicians like Andy Stott. She doesn't realize that I can do what is perceived by her to be crazy and disorganized and be successful. What it comes down to is her just wanting me to be successful.

M: Define success?

V: Her definition of success would be monetary. Can I make money doing this? The answer is yes. I can make money doing what I do. I guess it doesn't have as much precedence as being a singer-songwriter. But there are a bunch of broke singer-songwriters out performing in coffee shops, performing in restaurants and that's definitely not what I want to do.

My definition of success has changed a lot. I used to want to be a huge super star. I wanted everyone to know who I was. What my music sounded like. I wanted my sound to be recognized by everyone. Now what I want is more so respect. There’s a huge difference between fame and respect. It’d be really cool if the people that I listen to and the people that have informed my journey in music acknowledged me and acknowledge my music. If I was in the same circles and if my music gave me a pass to be in certain circles, that would be my definition of success. If I became contemporaries with the same people I love listening to.

“My Grandma's funeral really inspired me to make a musical project that will propel this Indigenous narrative to the future. It's really cool to get to know all of these sounds that I had never heard before and to contextualize them to fit with what I want to do with myself and my music.” - Vesolo

M: What does your POC experience mean to you?

V: My Indigenous identity is one that I claim much more than I do my European identity. I find that there’s so much power and solace in taking that narrative for myself instead of taking the perceived narratives from others onto myself. I go day to day perceived as non-white. I guess that's why I cling on to this Indigenous identity a lot more because I'm never perceived as being a Russian Jew.

Whenever you're perceived and oppressed for an identity, it's much more powerful to claim it and to live it. I see my Indigenous ancestry as being really sacred and also something that I am afraid to touch a lot of the time because I feel like it's so fragile. I definitely enjoy being unique There's not a lot of people out there like me. I’ve definitely never met anyone with my exact mix. I’m really grateful being born as I am. Being mixed as an identity is really important to me because every single sense of my identity is ambiguous. Gender, musically, ethnically.

M: What do you hope for in the next decade?

V: I want to start reversing the aging process now.

M: Gotta get some snail cream.

V: Start a little estrogen. That reverses it. Honestly, I haven't really thought about it. I hope for all of the work that's been done in the past decade to see the fruits of it’s labour, especially when it comes to the health and well-being of queer people of colour. I've seen a lot of progress that's been made whenever it comes to health in general for people of colour. I work at this community centre that offers free testing.

M: Is it GLASS^*?

^*Boston GLASS provides a continuum of services to LGBTQ+ youth of colour and their allies in the Greater Boston area.

“Being mixed as an identity is really important to me because every single sense of my identity is ambiguous. Gender, musically, ethnically.” - Vesolo

V: Yes, I work at Boston GLASS. I hope for more places like GLASS, and there are not a lot of them, that specifically serve queer youth of colour in inner city urban environments. I definitely hope in the next ten years everyone has access to getting tested. That's really important. I hope to not be under water in the next ten years. That’d be really cool. Hopefully the world doesn't flood in the next decade.

M: New island chains.

V: Floating cities.

M: The new Florida archipelago.

V: Everyone can just move to the mountains. It’s a lot to hope for. A lot to be done.

M: What about less the globally? What do you hope for yourself in the next ten years?

V: Not even in the next ten years, I hope in the next year that I can get over being such a perfectionist when it comes to my work. I really feel like perfectionism is such a big hump to get over. I see all of these big ideas in my head and I’m sort of too nervous to execute them. That's definitely one thing that I really hope to get over because it really holds me back. I’ve been doing electronic music for the past three years and I still haven't really released anything. Other than that, I want a hot bod. I want my hair to grow. I want more material things. More expensive things. And I want a bigger budget.

M: Bigger budget for what?

V: A bigger budget for art but also just for life. I need a bigger budget for life.