Peter Knight: Hand to Earth's Sonic Homecoming
From garage bands to the Australian Art Orchestra, Knight traces his path to Hand to Earth, an ensemble whose new album *Ŋurru Wäŋa* honors Indigenous song traditions while exploring electroacoustic possibilities with producer Lawrence English.
Today, the Spotlight shines on composer, trumpeter, and producer Peter Knight.
Peter Knight has spent decades working in the spaces between genres and cultures. His latest project brings together 40,000-year-old Indigenous Australian songs with contemporary electroacoustic music through Hand to Earth’s new album, the title of which translates as “the scent of home.” The record finds Peter collaborating with Indigenous songkeepers Daniel and David Wilfred alongside Korean vocalist Sunny Kim, creating music that honors ancient traditions while pushing into new sonic territory.
He’s here to walk us through this remarkable collaboration and share how his work with the Australian Art Orchestra shaped his understanding of music as a bridge between worlds.
(The musical excerpts heard in the interview are from Hand to Earth’s album Ŋurru Wäŋa)
Dig Deeper
• Contemporary Australian ensemble at peterknightmusic.com and on the Australian Art Orchestra site
• Ŋurru Wäŋa (The Scent of Home) on Room40
• Previous album MOKUY (2023) on Room40
Band Members:
• Daniel Yipininy Wilfred - Yolŋu songman, voice, bilma (keeper of Wágilak song traditions from Ngukurr, Northern Territory)
• David Yipininy Wilfred - Yidaki, voice (brother of Daniel Wilfred)
• Peter Knight - Trumpet, electronics, composition
• Sunny Kim - Voice, percussion, electronics (Korean and English)
• Aviva Endean - Clarinets, winds, electronics
Peter Knight - Solo Work:
• Shadow Phase (2022) on Room40 (video premiere)
• TL;DR (Too Long, Didn’t Read) - with Quinn Knight, Helen Svoboda, and Theo Carbo
Australian Art Orchestra:
• Australian Art Orchestra - Contemporary music ensemble (Wikipedia)
• Peter Knight served as Artistic Director 2013-2023
• Paul Grabowsky - Founder of Australian Art Orchestra (1994)
• Crossed & Recrossed - AAO album featuring Peter Knight compositions “The Plains” (inspired by Gerald Murnane) and “Diomira” (inspired by Italo Calvino)
• Djuwalpada - Short film shot at the Australian Art Orchestra’s Creative Music Intensive in the Tasmanian Southern Highlands (co-directed by Daniel Wilfred)
• Creative Music Intensive - Annual residency program in Tasmania (founded by Peter Knight in 2014)
Room40 Label and Lawrence English:
• Room40 - Brisbane-based record label founded and run by Lawrence English (Bandcamp)
• “A Young Person’s Guide to Hustling in the Arts” - Essay by Lawrence English (name your price)
Tamara Saulwick and Chamber Made:
• Tamara Saulwick - Performance maker, director, Peter Knight’s partner (Wikipedia)
• Chamber Made - Performance company where Tamara Saulwick is Artistic Director
• Collaborative works: Pin Drop (2010), Endings (2015), Alter (2016), Seddon Archives, My Self In That Moment (2022)
Cultural Concepts and Places:
• Wágilak/Wägilak - Indigenous language and cultural group (Southeast Arnhem Land, Northern Territory)
• Yolŋu - Indigenous peoples of northeast Arnhem Land (40,000+ year-old continuous culture)
• Yolŋu manikay - Song cycles (ancient oral tradition central to Hand to Earth’s work)
• Ngukurr - Remote community in Northern Territory, home of Daniel and David Wilfred
• Arnhem Land - Region in Northern Territory, traditional home of Yolŋu peoples
• Raki - Wágilak concept (metaphorical string that draws people together for singing and dancing)
• Bunggul - Traditional ceremony/gathering
Literary Inspirations:
• Gerald Murnane - Australian author (The Plains inspired Peter Knight composition)
• Italo Calvino - Italian writer (Invisible Cities inspired Peter Knight’s “Diomira”)
• Yoon Dong Ju - Korean poet (poem “Another Home” featured in Ŋurru Wäŋa)
• Ania Walwicz - Writer and teacher (friend and influence on Peter Knight, voice appears on Shadow Phase)
Residencies and Venues:
• Banff Centre for the Arts - Alberta, Canada (home of “Soundweavings” intercultural music residency, April-May 2025)
• The Substation - Newport, Victoria (Melbourne arts center, Australian Art Orchestra resident organization)
• Vancouver Jazz Festival - venue for Hand to Earth artist talk
• Jazztopad Festival - Wroclaw, Poland (premiered “The Plains” in 2018)
• JazzFest Berlin - featured Australian Art Orchestra (2019)
Other Musicians and Collaborators:
• Brian Eno - influence on Hand to Earth’s ambient sound
• Jon Hassell - influence on Hand to Earth’s approach
• Shabaka - British saxophonist (live collaboration with Hand to Earth, September 2025)
• Dave Douglas - Trumpeter (ran Banff Centre jazz intensive that inspired Peter Knight)
• Warren Ellis - Violinist/composer (collaborated with Peter Knight on film score for Kid Snow)
• Bae Il Dong - P’ansori singer from Seoul (participated in Creative Music Intensive)
Awards and Recognition:
• ARIA Awards - Hand to Earth nominated for Best World Music Album (2022)
• APRA/AMC Art Music Awards - Australian Art Orchestra won Organization of the Year (2014, 2022)
• Albert H. Maggs Composition Award - Peter Knight won for “Diomira” (2016)
• Green Room Awards - Multiple wins for Peter Knight and Tamara Saulwick collaborations
• Music Victoria Awards - Hand to Earth won awards (2024)
• Australia Council Music Fellowship - Peter Knight recipient (2013-14)
Related Bands and Projects:
• Way Out West - Peter Knight’s band with Dung Nguyen (formed 2002, four albums released)
• Cattletruck - Rock band (Peter Knight played trumpet and bass in 1990s)
• Big Pig, Frente, Underground Lovers, You Am I, Spiderbait - Rock bands Peter Knight toured/recorded with in the 1990s
(This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.)
Lawrence Peryer: I would love to begin by asking you a little bit about Hand to Earth's new album. I understand that the translation of the title is "The Scent of Home." I would love it if you could actually say the title for us so that I don't butcher it, and then if you could tell me a little bit about the concept that shapes the album.
Peter Knight: The album's called Ŋurru Wäŋa. When Daniel says it, it sounds almost like "Wooroo Wanga." It's in Wágilak language. Sometimes it's hard to translate or transport the sound exactly into English.
Lawrence: Tell me a little bit then about how the English translation of the title—how does that manifest? How does it inform and shape the album?
Peter: The English translation for the title is "The Scent of Home," and I think that what's going on in this group, Hand to Earth, between these five people is that we are all trying to find a space together where we can share and learn from one another. That's not exactly the same as home, but the sense that we are moving toward something is like a homecoming. I think that when it works, what we find is that between us, we're approaching something that is related to our essences as human beings. I know that sounds a little bit lofty and hopefully not too grandiose, but in Australia, and in many parts of the world, we are dealing with the issues that have visited us as a result of colonialism. In Australia, we have practiced forgetting and sweeping things under the rug for the entire post-European history of this country. I think really we are all carrying that legacy and that burden in a sense. In Hand to Earth, we aim to find a space where we can be together and express something positive about how we might live together and create a more optimistic future. I think that's the power of music. That's the power of art. So in a sense, that would represent a kind of homecoming if it were possible, if it happens one day in the future. I think it's what we all kind of yearn for.
Even though, mostly in our group, that's unspoken, I think that the yearning that is expressed in these songs is something that we all share, even though the songs are sung in the Wágilak language and they're songs that come from Daniel's song cycles—ancient song cycles—they resonate with all of us. That's a really fascinating thing about being in this band, actually, and playing with David and Daniel.
One of the things that's moved me is the generosity of this culture. The deeply embedded practice of generosity that I've experienced is something that settler Australians can really learn from. There's a concept in Wágilak culture called raki, and raki is a word that describes, or that refers to, the string that is made with grass that is woven together to make the dilly bags to hold tools—traditional bags. But it's also a metaphorical word that refers to a metaphorical string which draws us all together to dance and to sing and to celebrate.
When we play music, what has been explained to us is that we're all drawn together—audience and musicians—by this raki, by this metaphorical string. When we dance and sing together, in Wágilak language, it's called aung. The raki draws us together for the aung. We all become part of the story, so it's not like Aboriginal musicians are performing for us or that we are supporting them to perform their song. We are part of the song altogether, the audience as well. This is a really central concept for them, and it's a very natural sense. It's a very natural practice of inclusion, and that's what I feel like we can really learn from. That's what I feel like has enriched my life a lot, working with these musicians. It kind of makes sense of the process that we're engaged in, because in many situations when you have an ancient cultural tradition fusing with contemporary European or Western tradition, sometimes I find myself asking, "What are the Western musicians doing there?" This music is fine without the other stuff. I think that's often true, actually. But when what's underpinning our engagement is this cultural practice of inclusion and this notion of the raki drawing us together to make something new, to make a new song or to build on the songline together, to create our own story, then it makes sense that we're there. It makes sense that we're part of it because we are, whether we like it or not.
Lawrence: It's really fascinating to hear you elaborate on all of that. When you were first speaking, I was thinking that what I was hearing was that the work and the process of making the work is really home. Then as you were articulating further, it sort of expanded into home is really the whole project, the whole endeavor of what you all are doing. It's a beautiful, functional metaphor for what you do. My understanding is that the songs for this record were recorded a bit opportunistically or spontaneously. Does that contrast to how you normally work with Hand to Earth, or is that a fairly typical way to approach the recorded part of what you do?
Peter: That's a good question. I think in our practice—my practice, Sunny's practice, and Aviva's practice—as musicians working mostly with European Western forms, we're used to schedules and doing things at particular times and planning in a particular way. That contrasts with the traditional way that David and Daniel work. When there's a bunggul in Ngukurr up in Arnhem Land, things happen when they need to happen. Being part of those bunggul, people gather and it seems inexplicable to us, but there's just kind of people gathering, eating, talking, and then a song will start. Then people will join the song, and then there'll be dance. Then it'll be quite intense for a while, and then it'll subside, and people will go back to talking. So there's this natural flow of things, which is really interesting. I think that David and Daniel work really well in a much more regimented system with us when we're touring and when we're playing concerts. They're used to this way of doing things as well, and it works perfectly. But when we're recording, I think we kind of end up in a situation which is a little bit more like bunggul. We'll gather at the recording studio—this is generally how it's worked. We'll kind of talk and move through what we can move through musically, but the action happens very quickly, very intensely. There's lots of not much, and then there's moments of real intensity, and I feel like Daniel's always waiting for that moment when it feels right and when things are going to happen. I think we've just been trying to roll with that a little bit more.
With this recording, with the recording of Ŋurru Wäŋa, we were just at home here in the studio, actually, at my place, one day, and we had a day off, and Daniel just said, "Oh, I feel like singing." And I was like, "Okay, if he feels like singing, let's get this happening." So I just fired up the studio, pulled some materials together very quickly. Some drones and some recordings, actually, that I'd been making with Sunny previously. I just let Daniel and David have those materials, and he started talking about this song cycle of the "Bush Honey" and the bee making the bush honey. He just sang through that cycle, and that formed the core of the record. Then we went from there. Sunny and Aviva came back into the studio later, recorded more stuff, and then we played that to David and Daniel, and we just worked on it quite organically, but across a period of time.
That process worked really well, actually. I think it's maybe a little bit more like that bunggul rhythm that they're used to. Daniel always says about us, "Oh, there's too much talk, too much talk talk." So there wasn't a lot of talk talk. It was just like, "Yeah, let's just play some music and go have some coffee."
Lawrence: If I had to crudely summarize the process, it sounds like organic and spontaneous is the rule of the day. Something that sits beside that for me, when I look at what you all do—I'm really curious, especially as it relates maybe to you and Sunny—how you bring together the connections when you're working in such diverse cultural traditions. To go back to what you said earlier, it doesn't sound like Europeans vacationing in this land of indigenous music, and it doesn't sound like what I think you were articulating. It doesn't sound like fusion. I wonder if—I think what I'm trying to ask you is how much intellectualizing or intention has to go into what is ultimately an organic melding of all these different cultural strands? Do you just get out of the way of an intellectual approach? There's something there that I'm trying to discern—what's thought and intention versus what's conjuring versus channeling? (laughter)
Peter: It kind of depends on what you call intellectual. I think there's a lot of thinking and there's a lot of discussion. I think it's about relationships in the end rather than about conceptualizing the music—it's about attending to the relationships. We were at Vancouver Jazz Festival last year, and we did an artist talk. It was me and David and Daniel, and we were doing a talk, and someone in the audience asked a question. They asked the question of Daniel: "What's it like singing your songs and working with these other musicians from different backgrounds, and kind of how do you do it?" And he just said simply—and I think the question was actually kind of, "Why do you do it?"
Lawrence: And it goes back to your earlier point: what are these Western guys doing here?
Peter: It was kind of that question. And it's a fair enough question. And he said, "They sing their songs to me, and I sing my songs to them." Really simple and really kind of a lightbulb moment for me, because what I realized is that he heard what we do as our song—that we are actually bringing something from deep within us as human beings and as musicians, singing our songs to him, and he's singing his song to us, and that he values our songs, that he hears them, honors them, and values them. That's the way it feels to him. That was kind of a real validation for me. It felt like, "Yeah, I know that makes it clear what I'm doing here. I don't have to overthink it. I don't have to do anything particular. I just have to try to be present and try to be myself and sing my song."
Lawrence: That so profoundly addresses the heart of what I was trying to ask you.
Peter: It's really amazing, actually. It was a beautiful moment, and we've talked about that a lot. Particularly me and Aviva and Sunny have talked about that a lot, and we've noted that when the band is working, when things are working in Hand to Earth, it's when it feels like an exchange. It doesn't feel as interesting when it's like we are serving the Wágilak songs and trying to just be the backing, and it certainly doesn't work when we're dictating or telling or pushing too hard a particular agenda. I think one of the reasons why it does work, and one of the reasons why it sounds like it does, is because of the amount of time that's gone into the relationships. If relationship is the principle and the core of what this is about, these relationships have been practiced since 2005, I think it was. And they weren't started by me or Sunny or Aviva. They were started by the founder of the Australian Art Orchestra, Paul Grabowsky, who's a mentor, a dear friend of mine, and an incredible musician—one of the most inspiring people I've ever spent time with. As director of the Australian Art Orchestra, he went to Ngukurr. He'd heard from somebody that there were musicians there who were really curious, that the traditional culture was vibrant and strong, and he had the thought that perhaps jazz and improvising musicians had the tools to actually collaborate in a profound way, or in a way that could unlock possibility—that jazz and improvising musicians had the tools to do that and break down the cultural hegemonies that are problematic in collaborative practice with First Nations Australians. I think it was ahead of its time, and he was exactly right. So he took the Australian Art Orchestra out to Ngukurr. It's a very remote place, and they just sat and tried to learn the songs, and that's how it started. Then there were several Australian Art Orchestra projects. There's one called Crossing Roper Bar, and then there's another one called Ruby's Story, which is a really amazing record.
I became artistic director of the Australian Art Orchestra during 2013, so I was brought into these relationships. Then Sunny, who was living in Seoul at the time, started to come to Australia and was part of our residency program. She met David and Daniel, and then Aviva became the associate artist of the Australian Art Orchestra, and she was drawn into those relationships. So there's been a lot of water under the bridge. There's been a lot of time spent not just playing music but doing everything but playing music. I think that's what it takes.
Lawrence: When you were artistic director of the AAO—first of all, when I think about just even the name of the Australian Art Orchestra, the thing it says to me is, "What is Australian art?" And when I dig into it deeper, the answer becomes "all of it."
Peter: Yeah.
Lawrence: All of it. And it sounds like that's what you do.
Peter: Well, Paul says, "Australia is an improvisation." And I get that, and I always really like that. And man, it's an improvisation that's really had its ups and downs, shall we say.
Lawrence: I feel the same way about America.
Peter: Well, the world's a bit of a mess, isn't it? And art really is—there's another quote: "Life is a shitstorm, and art's the only umbrella we have."
Lawrence: I love that. That's great.
Peter: I like that too. I mean, it is a place where we can meet. We can meet in artistic practice. We can, non-verbally or non-discursively, deal with all of this in a sense, or express something about this. Like I keep saying about what we try to do, I think we express something about what might be possible—an optimistic expression of what might be possible in the future. That's how I feel about it anyway.
Lawrence: Are you able to draw, or how might you draw, any through line from your earlier foundational experiences in more of a rock idiom—playing in, working in the rock idiom—to your work today? Is there anything from your foundational experiences that informs what you do today?
Peter: I wasn't expecting that question, but that's interesting. When I think about Hand to Earth, the closest thing I can come to in terms of how we work together is that we are kind of like a garage band, because we don't really write anything down much, but we do talk together about how things should be or could be. Then we try them out, and then we see if they work. If they don't work, we try something else. I think that when the garage band works, when it's functioning well, it's such a great way to collaborate. It's amazing. I spent a lot of time in garage bands when I was younger, and when it doesn't work, it can be the most frustrating thing in the world. But when it does, as I said, it's a great way to collaborate.
I went from that and then went back to university and studied jazz, and then kind of got really into composing and really into notation and worked a lot in that way with written music. Then where I've kind of arrived at now, I really enjoy working in the studio. I mean, I still write music—notated music—but not very much. I like the immediacy of working together organically. I also like electroacoustic practice. I like using the studio as an instrument where there's no intermediate translation necessary. So when you notate music, you are trying to imagine what the outcome might be and using the notation and the collaborative practice to narrow the gap between your creative impulse and what will eventually be the result. Whereas working in the studio and electroacoustic practice, you push the sounds around, and then it's done. You know what I mean? There's no process of translation—it's different. I really enjoy that, and I enjoy the intersection of these worlds. I think that's where I'm at at the moment.
Lawrence: How do you think about the relationship between the more breath-based acoustic nature of the trumpet and all of the electroacoustic processing, even extended technique? Are these just colors in the palette, tools in the toolbox, whatever the creaky metaphor is?
Peter: You mean in the context of Hand to Earth and electroacoustic and ambient practice?
Lawrence: Yeah. I mean, I guess the impulse to process the trumpet opens it up, I suppose, in a whole—a different way to say it is you could probably spend a lifetime with your instrument in its acoustic form exploring. I think of somebody like McCoy Tyner as a pianist. He really never went electric. He played piano. Whereas you have a Herbie Hancock who took all the colors in the palette and has explored them all to their nth degree. What drove you, or can you isolate some arc around when you shifted toward this more experimental nature with your instrument and with your practice overall, as opposed to being a trumpeter that plays just trumpet?
Peter: It was quite a conscious decision, actually. I've been fascinated with the trumpet for some reason all my life, and still am—the object, the instrument, the mechanical device. It's a fascinating thing, and it's so primitive yet so incredibly refined. It's such a refined thing. For me, it was about collaboration, and it was about opening up the possibility of working in different forms, different mediums, and with different artists. I've got quite a few friends—my best friends are visual artists and theater makers. My partner is a theater director. I kind of saw what they're all doing and really wanted to be able to connect artistically with them. You can do that with the trumpet, but I felt that it would be enriching to learn about electronic music practice and to develop a studio practice and to find a way to intersect with my trumpet in these different worlds. So I just really, at a certain point, decided to embark on a journey to see where that might lead me. That was quite a while ago now. It must be about twenty or so years ago. Since then, I've made quite a lot of work with my partner, Tamara Saulwick, and we still work together. She runs a company that is a performance company called Chamber Made, and they work with the intersection of sound and performance and dramaturgy around sound. So I've been quite involved with her work. Then also, it's opened up all sorts of possibilities in terms of solo practice and collaborating with visual artists and all sorts of other people and possibilities. So yeah, it was a very conscious decision.
Lawrence: As we sit here talking, I'm getting a lot of the impression of this real openness—open in lots of different aspects. For example, the idea of being open to that more—what I'll call loose or organic way of even the music coming together with Hand to Earth. I could imagine other people in that situation being aggravated or impatient or not wanting to work that way, who might like production times and call sheets and things of that nature. But also the openness to the exploration of what your instrument could be, or the curiosity and the openness to seeing how other people work and collaborate. I'm curious if, in the context of all that openness and all that willingness to connect and explore, is there like a core musical identity or ethos or philosophy that you have to hold onto or that you seek to hold onto? Is there a principle or a you that you have to—I don't want to say preserve, but that you return to or that you center around? Because I would imagine there's a risk of losing the self in all that other collaboration and openness.
Peter: I think you're exactly right. That's probably been the challenge for me over my career, and particularly the last fifteen years, because I have been a facilitator for other people's work as much as an artist in my own right—particularly the ten years that I spent as artistic director of the Australian Art Orchestra. There's always a tension there because your job is to put your imprint on the organization and on the ensemble but also to open space for others to express themselves. I think that part of what comes naturally to me is connecting the dots with people and finding ways to crack open potentials in the way people come together. It's something I really enjoy. It's something that kind of feels like it comes naturally. I do actually wonder sometimes, and I have wondered, "Well, what's my core? Who am I as an artist?" For sure. I think if you are not asking those questions, then that might be more of a problem, though. Being in that space of slight discomfort of not knowing is actually probably a productive space to be in as an artist. One of the reasons why I finished up with the Art Orchestra is because I really wanted to dive deeper into my own practice and maybe to define myself more, maybe to define that core more clearly. I think you've hit on something there for sure.
Lawrence: Before I move on from the AAO, something I'm interested in is—it was such an acclaimed tenure that you had. There were awards. It's a well-thought-of organization. But I'm curious: when you think about your time there, are there things you view as accomplishments that wouldn't necessarily be represented in an awards category, or that someone from the outside might not see, but you as the person in the AD role really felt like, "Wow, we got something done there"?
Peter: I kind of mentioned briefly this residency program that we ran each year called the Creative Music Intensive, which is where Hand to Earth was conceived. Every year we spent two weeks in the highlands of southern Tasmania, and we brought musicians from all around Australia and from around the world. Daniel and David were there. Sunny, as I mentioned, was there. I don't know if you know Bae Il Dong, this incredible p'ansori singer from Seoul—he was there each year. All kinds of people came, and it was really just a fantastic thing. I got inspired when I got the job at the Art Orchestra by my experiences at Banff Centre for the Arts doing various residencies, but particularly their jazz intensive that was run by Dave Douglas for a long time. I thought, "Well, we need to do something like that in the southern hemisphere for people who are looking for the next inspiration in their journey forward, maybe after leaving university." I think that had quite an impact on a lot of people. I was actually at a wedding in Sydney a few months ago, and the wedding was two of the participants from 2017, Jacques Emery and Chloe Kim—an incredible bass player and an incredible drummer. They'd met there and were now getting married, and the room was full of people who'd been at those Creative Music Intensives. I felt like, "Wow, this is really special," because that place, that time, that idea created a lot of friendships and a lot of collaborations.
Lawrence: Yeah.
Peter: There's no awards for that. (laughter)
Lawrence: How poetic that a bass player and a drummer got married.
Peter: But it was just a really nice feeling, actually, to be there and to see all these people and also an incredible amount of musical talent. Actually, completing the circle, Daniel and Sunny and I were on faculty at Banff Centre for the Arts this year for a program called Soundweavings that happened in April and May. So I had that inspiration from Banff and then made the Creative Music Intensive together, and then to go back to Banff was wonderful to close that circle.
Lawrence: Tell me a little bit about Room40 as a label and as a label home for work you do. I guess what I'm curious about is, does label matter? Do you seek a home that aligns with a vision or a value, or is that really not important to you? I'm really curious about the role, because I think of that, especially in the creative music fields—oftentimes the specific labels, the right place, can bridge the art and the commerce. Maybe ECM being a great example or a high-profile example. So I'm curious about Lawrence English, about Room40, and about how you think about all that.
Peter: I think label matters when you have a label as great as Room40. All of the things that we've been talking about—thinking expansively about how art and music fits into our lives, in terms of how important relationships are to the work—these are all things that Lawrence really embodies in his practice as a musician, as a curator, as a label head, as somebody at the center of this label, Room40. Lawrence is really all about building community and about connection. He's had a huge influence on the development of Hand to Earth, not just as a producer but as a channeler of entities. He really is that. Specifically with the sound, I think he heard the potential of this kind of collision or connection between ambient sounds and ambient music and these ancient songs from Ngukurr. He's kind of pushed the sound a little bit in that direction as a producer and as a contributor and as an interlocutor. It's been very inspiring for everybody. I don't know if you know Lawrence, but just the way that he works, it's very special. I'd love to—you should do an interview with him one day. He's got a lot of interesting things to say on all of this. He's been very important. Also, the legacy of Room40 now is just huge.
Lawrence: It's a whole world. That's right. I agree with that.
Peter: He's also got this great—I don't know if you've ever seen this—paper that he wrote that's on the Room40 Bandcamp. I think it's called "A Young Person's Guide to Hustling in the Arts." It's really worth reading. I give it to all the young people that I come in contact with. I've got a twenty-one-year-old son, and he's a musician, and I meet a lot of his friends. I often pass this around. It's not just for young people; it's for anyone, really. But it really lays out these principles that Lawrence lives by and works by and that guide Room40. If there was more of that in the world—especially because with Lawrence, it's not just a nice sentiment. It's not just a feel-good motherhood kind of statement. It's action. He takes action, and he walks the walk. Truly inspiring human being.
Lawrence: Thank you for that. I'm going to—that's going to give me something to read. I have a twenty-year-old son who's in art school, and it's been very interesting to watch over the last couple of years how, almost by the week, he talks more and more about being less interested in the commercial, in being a commercial artist, and more in fine art. He works in animation and some film work. It's really fascinating to watch his journey as he starts to think about the different lives you can have in art. I think that paper would be—
Peter: He'd probably find that paper really worth reading, I think.
Lawrence: That's great. Thank you.
Peter: I feel like it's a huge privilege and inspiration being the father of a twenty-one-year-old. I don't know if they're all like this, but this generation who went through COVID, who had to learn that things don't always work out the way you expect when you're from a privileged, wealthy country—because our generation, post–Second World War, everything's always worked out for us, in some sense. The problems of the world were kind of elsewhere, broadly speaking. I mean, I'm generalizing, and that statement could be picked apart, of course. But in 2020, 2021, and particularly here in Melbourne, we found out that's not always going to be guaranteed, that things can really change very quickly. I feel like these young kids that I know, that are friends of my son's—they've just got a slightly different perspective, and I think it's positive.
Lawrence: I agree. Whenever I get too down about things, I think about some of the young people I come in contact with, and it does give me some optimism. Before I let you go—and I guess I didn't make good on my promise to go easy on you because I threw a lot of philosophy at you this morning. (laughter)
Peter: It's been a really interesting conversation. Thank you. I really appreciate the questions.
Lawrence: Well, I appreciate that. But before I let you go, can you tell me a little bit about what's next for you on the solo front? Because I think my understanding is you mentioned when we were first connecting that you have some more work coming out later this year or maybe even soon. Can you tell me what you're up to?
Peter: I actually just released a record made with my son. It's an album called TL;DR (Too Long, Didn't Read). It's also with two of the young musicians who I got to know during the Creative Music Intensives, the Australian Art Orchestra Creative Music Intensives—two really brilliant musicians: Helen Svoboda, double bassist and vocalist, and Theo Carbo, guitarist. So that album's just come out, and we are, at the moment, halfway through a tour, an Australian tour. We head off again next week. Then I've got a solo record that is already finished and mastered, and the artwork's being produced for Room40. Another one for Room40, a follow-up to Shadow Phase. So that's coming out in, I think, October. And I'm doing some shows. Hand to Earth is going to Europe and the UK in September, and then I'm following up with some solo shows in a few places in Europe. We're playing at the Barbican Centre in London, Hand to Earth, and we are doing that in collaboration with Shabaka. You would know Shabaka.
Lawrence: Oh, that's going to be deep.
Peter: Yeah. So we're doing that at the Barbican. We're coming together for a day to play together and create some possibilities collaboratively. Then we'll do a concert at the Barbican where Shabaka plays some solo stuff, Hand to Earth plays some of the Ŋurru Wäŋa album, and then we play together. Then we're doing a show in Belgium, and then we're going to Boulez Saal in Berlin, and we're doing another show with Shabaka. So hopefully that's going to be the start of something kind of interesting and new. And then there's the solo stuff as well following that. So it's kind of a busy and exciting year, really.
