
Molly Joyce’s ‘State Change’: A Meditation on Acquired Disability & Adaptive Creativity
PRAISE FOR Molly Joyce
“Serene power.”
“One of the most versatile, prolific and intriguing composers working under the vast new-music dome.”
“A powerful work of love and empathy that underscores the poison of ableism in American culture.”
“Punchy, purposeful.”
Today, Molly Joyce — the acclaimed composer and performer navigating the perceived limits of disability throughout her work — shares the new single “August 6, 1999” and announces her forthcoming album State Change, due July 11 via Better Company Records in North America and FatCat Records’ 130701 imprint ROW. Listen to “August 6, 1999” here and presave State Change here.
Blending influences ranging from the 20th century modernist, minimalist lineage of Philip Glass or Steve Reich, to the spectral drones of Andy Stott, Missy Mazzoli, and Nico Muhly, State Change draws unflinchingly from the medical record of a childhood trauma for seven electro-acoustic tone poems — stark and oppressive in its medical aesthetic, yet ultimately cathartic and healing. Joyce crafted the album with Grammy-winning producer William Brittelle (Justin Vernon, Druan Duran, Dirty Projectors, Oneohtrix Point Never, Wye Oakl).
“August 6, 1999” opens with something that sounds like a flatline, although we know that the subject at hand (Joyce herself) is now thriving. On the date of the song title, she was in a car crash that would lead to years of reconstructive surgeries at varying success to her left hand. The dates across the album mark further medical interventions. Her mother, a physician, had saved the operative reports — most of them clinical, but some unexpectedly emotional. One described her as “this poor little girl.” That line stuck, though less of a pity point and more of deeply interesting material to work with.
Watch the video for “August 6, 1999” here.
“No function / No flexor / No extensor” and “In the wound / Paint and glass / Flesh and bone” is recited over glinting sine tones that evoke the sterile chill of a surgical theater. Joyce’s voice cuts through: “I lay down / Wound the left / Skin the flap of what remains.” “August 6, 1999” also introduces the MUGIC (Music/User Gesture Interface Control) device, which lets her shape clusters of sound without triggering stray pitches — something a traditional keyboard wouldn’t allow.
Across the record, Joyce uses tools like motion capture systems, the touch-sensored KAiKU Music Glove, and Bela Trill touch sensors. With them, she renders rotation, pressure, and gesturing into live, generative sound. It’s in itself a path-paving use of technology in music and composition, but also a powerful commentary on disability. State Change grew out of Joyce’s doctoral studies at the University of Virginia, where she began experimenting with adaptive music technology. “A professor mentioned the phrase state change in passing, and it immediately struck me — not just in a medical sense, but as a compositional idea.” As such, it became a guiding concept — undergirding not only the physiological shifts of acquired disability, but the creative explorations that followed.
Outside of her standalone work, Molly Joyce recently scored the original soundtrack for Patrice: The Movie, a documentary rom-com directed by Ted Passon, which premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival last year. She’s adept and translating her music to the performance space, as seen last year in her collaboration with Jerron Herman, which focused on embodying disability and in essence extricating one’s self from its perceived constraints. Read more about it here.
State Change is a deeply moving work that may at first be jarring in its antiseptic quality, but ultimately cradles and calms you with its persistence.
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