– What was it about the Mind the Gap call for submissions that made you want to participate in the project as a creator?
The truth is, I often deliberately take on tasks that fall outside my comfort zone. It’s often the very things that initially seem confusing or unfamiliar that end up captivating me. The creative methodology of Mind the Gap, where I only know the next 30 seconds and have no overview of the entire piece, was completely at odds with the way I usually work.
I usually outline the structure of the entire piece first and then start filling in the details. Here, I didn’t have that option: I could only build a logic within my own section while not knowing how it would fit into the whole. This was particularly frustrating, but that’s exactly why I felt I had to try it.
– Can this be considered collective composition? Have you had any similar experiences before?
In the case of Mind the Gap, I’d talk more about inspiration or reflection than classic collective composition. I’m currently working on a project where we do create collectively: there, the roles are clearly divided, with each person responsible for a specific part.
For me, breaking a project down into individual tasks has always been difficult because I like to have an overview of everything. At the same time, in other fields (such as film), it’s natural for multiple people to work together, and that’s never been a problem there. It’s interesting how much more strongly I feel attached to owning the “whole” when it comes to composing music.
– How inspiring is it to have to connect with a specific task rather than creating music out of your own inner motivation?
In this case, it was particularly inspiring. I’ve worked this way before, where I had to respond to someone else’s material. For example, I once started with an analysis of a play by István Vántus, and that led to a piece of my own that took a completely different stylistic direction, yet retained something of the original.
In my first year, I had to write a piece based on a quote by Pál Járdányi. The idea of a mandatory quote bothered me so much that I eventually “sneaked in” a Bartók quote as well. Only one elderly lady in the audience noticed; she came up to me and said, “I heard you quoted Bartók.” That felt incredibly good.
In situations like this, the given framework often provokes something from which a truly personal voice emerges.
– How did your algorithmic and mathematical thinking come through in this piece?
I usually think in terms of fractal-like, multi-layered, repetitive organizing principles: the form is reflected in the smaller units, in the selection of pitches and rhythms. This time, however, I felt that if I didn’t have a clear view of the entire form, then my approach had to reflect the nature of the project. That’s why I consciously chose a more intuitive, freer method.
I couldn’t do without algorithms entirely (I ended up sneaking some into the chord construction after all), but overall, I tried to move away from my usual techniques.
– As a female composer, do you encounter specific expectations in the industry?
I never experienced anything like that in the Netherlands; perhaps that’s why I stayed there. In Hungary, however, I had a defining experience when, instead of professional criticism, I received personal, sexist remarks. This “criticism” plunged me into a creative crisis that lasted for months. For a while, I couldn’t write a single note. Eventually, the people around me—those whose professional opinions I value—helped me regain my self-confidence. At the same time, this experience also contributed to my decision not to return to Hungary.
– How do you feel about the fact that gender issues are receiving increasing attention in art projects today?
I have mixed feelings about this. In Hungary, it’s certainly justified to talk about these issues because they address real problems. In Western Europe, however, I sometimes feel that certain topics (not just gender issues) are becoming a trend in grant applications, and they distract attention from the music itself.
For me, the least interesting piece of information about a composer is their gender. It’s much more important how they think and what they stand for. At the same time, there are situations (such as harassment cases) where one cannot remain silent. It’s hard to strike a balance between continuing to talk about music and speaking out on socially important issues.
– As a teacher, how do you view the gender balance and generational shifts in the profession?
When I was attending the Liszt Ferenc Academy of Music in Budapest, women made up about 15–20% of the composition department. In Pécs, the number of female students seems to be growing now, but there are still more male applicants. It was an interesting realization for me when I first had a female mentor at the Royal Conservatoire The Hague, Mayke Nas. Previously, my role models were almost exclusively men, and I never questioned that at the time. When I realized that, for the first time, I had a female professional role model whom I looked up to, it was a liberating experience.
As for my generation, I hope that rivalry is less typical of us. I can genuinely be happy when a colleague wins an award. I don’t feel like it takes anything away from me. I’m actually glad when talented people receive support: ultimately, this is a shared concern for all of us.
Virág Anna Virág (1999) is a Hungarian composer from Vojvodina currently pursuing her Master’s degree at the Royal Conservatoire The Hague. She previously studied at the Liszt Academy of Music in Budapest and at the Institute of Sonology in The Hague.
Her work often explores the intersection between music and mathematical thinking, with a particular focus on fractals and self-similarity.
Besides concert music, she explores filmmaking, creating short films that reflect her compositional approach.
Her compositions are regularly performed in Hungary and across Europe.
In 2020, she received a prize at the Müpa Composition Competition for her piece Therapy of a Bipolar Bear. In 2024, the Residentie Orkest premiered her work Birds Aren’t Real as part of the One Minute Symphony project.
She currently teaches at the University of Pécs Faculty of Music and Visual Arts.
Virág Anna Virág’s official website: https://www.viragannavirag.com/blank-2
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