Oxalis Triangularis stems from the resilience of artists to continue to create through a global pandemic. It is a testament to the flexibility and creativity possible through electroacoustic composition. Developed through a call for scores in the summer of 2020, Oxalis Triangularis (referring to a purple “false shamrock” whose scientific name is Oxalis Triangularis due to its triangle-like leaves) features 33 new works written specifically to be recorded in a fully remote setting. Over the course of three albums Apply Triangle not only showcases the innovative techniques of 33 living composers but also highlights the embodied cultural nuances inherent in each composer's style.


Vol. 1 (tracks 1–11):

The 11 works on this volume give an introduction to Apply Triangle’s unique and creative style of performing with electronics, as well as a wide range of compositional voices. The compositions on this volume were all primarily recorded in 2020 at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. Each member of Apply Triangle recorded their parts individually without reference to the others’. These individual stems were then later mixed together with the electronic elements to create the finished piece.

The idea of “alone together” permeates throughout this album, as well as resilience within the artist community to continue to create during a global pandemic. The compositions range from sorrowful, earnest, nostalgic, angry, and meditative. Several compositions utilize spoken word, field recordings, and samples to compliment the colors of Apply Triangle’s instrumentation of flute, clarinet, and piano. Electronic processing of the acoustic instruments expand and distort AT’s sound, allowing for endless possibilities of sonic realizations.

Recording these works allowed me to feel connected again during a time of extreme loneliness. It gave me hope for a future and although at times the task seemed insurmountable, these compositions gave me the focus and energy to challenge myself like never before. These tracks are the fruits of our labor, given lovingly to you, and while we carry the scars of our past we continue forward to bloom in a brighter garden.

– Yoshi Weinberg

Vol. 2 (tracks 12–22):

The music on "Oxalis Triangularis: Vol. 2" showcases an incredible depth of influence and variety within the confines of our instrumentation coupled with the endless possibilities of electronic processing. Relentless industrialism, booming 808 beats, circuit-bent mayhem and Bosche-esque maximalism highlight the extreme worlds these composers created for us to explore and discover, all woven together with interluding improvisations that challenged us to reflect on the standstill times these works were created in.

Looking back on the process of bringing these works to life, I am so grateful for the time taken and the time received to grow with this music. Some of these recordings were made to be read and recorded in one day, whereas others took months to track all of the parts, make precise edits and allow time for our brains to breathe a bit before we could start on the next one. There were many times in our nearly four year long journey where it all felt stagnant and we didn’t know what to do next or what deadlines were approaching. Other times, we were locked into our flow and felt so excited for what the next piece held. When the time finally came to structure these albums and tell this story, these moments of highs and lows, rapid movement and complete stillness, still felt present as the pieces connected and began to relate to one another in ways we never imagined.

Thank you to all of the composers who dedicated their time and talents to this music and advising us every step of the way. Thank you to my two friends, Yoshi and Jixue, for seeing this idea through and committing to our music.

– Tyler Neidermayer

Vol. 3 (tracks 23–33):

While recording and mixing our parts individually, the robust flavors of the music never diminished despite the physical distance. Upon revisiting the final mixes from our three-year journey, I came to the realization that each musical fragment had unconsciously and deeply engraved itself into my mind. These pieces, when brought together, have transformed into a macrocosmic kaleidoscope. They stand as separate pieces, yet also weave a tapestry of memories, forming a synthesis of the entire amalgam of mixed-taste dream that whispers nuanced emotions and mirrors the time of quarantine.

Unlike the stable recording environments that Tyler and Yoshi had, I can't recall how many different instruments, or simply pianos, I've recorded on, and how many different spaces I've borrowed to record in. Sometimes on a Steinway model D in a nice concert hall, while other times it could be a detuned old piano in a room where trains constantly passed by. There was always a chance. Despite the inconsistency in timbre and tuning across each of them, this “imperfection” ultimately breathes life into each piece, making them non-replicable.

We communicate through interactions, consciously, with our instruments. The electronics, with their unfettered character, offer an array of imaginative possibilities, or the two extremes: to connect or to disconnect. The electronic elements of each piece are so different that sometimes they compress the space, pushing me out of the room, and other times they dissect the integrated space into fragmented jigsaw puzzles while still tethered to each other. After all, isn’t all continuity just an ignorance of smaller diagrams? Aren't we all just together and alone?

The music in this last volume moves through hope, desperation, peace, isolation, acceptance, struggle, and the wistful strains of longing. As they traverse the realms once more, do we only hear each other's music, or do we see ourselves as a part of it?

… Time seems to stand still when the music plays and resumes its course when the music pauses. I find myself trapped in time, dwelling immersed in the most special moments.

– Jixue Yang