For me, conducting begins with listening.
Not just to sound, but to the space between sounds — the breath, the pulse, the living conversation that unfolds when musicians come together. Every performance is a form of live collaboration, a moment where multiple energies, perspectives, and intentions converge to create something fleeting yet deeply human. That experience demands vulnerability from everyone involved — from the musicians who offer their sound, from the conductor who shapes and responds, and from the audience who chooses to truly listen.

My own path as an artist has been shaped by a range of musical and cultural experiences — from orchestral traditions to new music, from community-centered projects to interdisciplinary collaborations. Those experiences continually remind me that there is no single way to define excellence or authenticity. Each tradition, each voice, carries its own truth. This diversity informs how I program and curate: by bringing different musical languages and histories into dialogue, I hope to reveal the threads of humanity that connect them.

Music has always been a universal language, but to speak it honestly, we must be willing to meet each other with openness. My work as a conductor, performer, educator, and composer is about cultivating that openness — creating space where musicians and audiences alike can engage with sound, story, and spirit. Conducting, for me, isn’t about control; it’s about awareness — sensing how intention becomes resonance, how presence becomes sound, and how sound becomes understanding.

When we create together with trust and curiosity, the ensemble becomes more than a collection of players; it becomes a living reflection of community — responsive, mindful, and alive. Each performance is an act of shared discovery, a bridge between the seen and unseen, between tradition and possibility.

Ultimately, I see music as a way to listen our way closer — to one another, to the world around us, and to what is most alive within us.