Amir Konjani on creating the Kraken Harp, composing for film, and designing performances

Below the thunders of the upper deep…
The Kraken sleepeth… (The Kraken, Alfred Tennyson) 

…until this year’s New Lights Festival, when Amir Konjani’s Concerto for Kraken Harp, Placebo, premiered at the Cutty Sark. Conducted by Gregory Rose, the concert starred Trinity Laban’s Head of Harp and esteemed soloist Gabriella Dall ‘Olio. The inspiration for Placebo stems from Amir’s journey to Qeshm Island, where he immersed himself in the “Zaar” rituals and gathered folk tunes. Zaar is associated with winds, believed to be either vicious or peaceful. The locals engage in Zaar ceremonies to pacify the “bad winds” and evil spirits, making them less harmful and uncertain. This idea of uncertainty translates into Amir’s composition through his ‘shadowing technique’ – a performance mechanism in which a single instrument creates two or more related, but different sounds separated by timbre and time. To create this shadowing technique – or ‘Placebo effect’ – Amir makes and designs his own instruments. 

The creation of the Kraken Harp spanned a decade, handmade and meticulously crafted by the Abbasi Tar and Harp workshop. Amir designed the beautiful sea monster-like harp so that each string or lever has separate notes (e.g. B flat and B can be played simultaneously in different octaves). The Kraken Harp was inspired by images of lilies, rib cages, and an ancient Persian form of the harp called a Chang. It projects most of its notes through its wide tentacles, spatialising the field of sound to produce a kind of stereo. Throughout the performance of this concerto, the harp offered four distinct acoustic sound variations without the need for any additional electronic support: “wet sound” (primarily from the bass strings), “dry sound” (traditional harp sound), “shadows” (acoustic amplification of the “touch sound”, and the option for acoustic reverb with or without the initial sound source), and left-right stereo effect projection (the harp’s unique projection of different sounds from each note in two distinct directions). Amir says that “it was a truly remarkable experience to witness my imagination come to life through the hard work of over 50 artists, managers, and staff members, all gathered to celebrate this performance.” But for Amir, the journey of creation is even more fascinating than the result. He describes this journey through the neuroscience concept of “myelination”, introducing the scientific process in visual terms.  

“Consider the image of a fisherman in the desert – something that doesn’t exist in reality. How, then, do we imagine it? When you picture a fisherman, your brain activates a specific set of neurons that encode the characteristics of that fisherman. Similarly, imagining a desert triggers a different set of neurons. However, there isn’t a pre-existing ‘neuronal ensemble’ for a fisherman in a desert because our minds haven’t witnessed this before,” he explains. “Yet, we can still imagine it. This happens because our brain has the incredible ability to link separate neuronal ensembles – in this case, the fisherman and the desert – by synchronising their activity.”  

Myelination refers to the production of ‘myelin’, a fatty substance that insulates nerve fibers, allowing electrical signals to travel more quickly and efficiently between neurons. When different neuronal ensembles fire together, myelination strengthens connections, enabling us to create and imagine new, complex images. “Each time you use imagination during your practice, myelination is enhanced, making creative connections faster and more robust,” says Amir. “The same holds true for the audience when they discover how an unfamiliar sound is produced. For example, they might realise that the sound comes from three different instruments, each using specific techniques. The way their sounds blend feels almost magical, like the perfect combination of ingredients in cooking. The audience link the sight of the Kraken Harp with its unfamiliar left-right effect – the experience strengthens the audience’s own myelination. This is what makes the creative process so profoundly illuminating and transformative. 

“The Kraken Harp Concerto can be considered as an example of how imagination, collaboration, and neuroscience come together to transform abstract ideas into a vivid, tangible reality. I also must thank Gabriella, whose mesmerising performance on the Kraken Harp truly brought the composition to life, connecting the audience to this sound world and accelerating their own creative and auditory connections.” 

This isn’t the first time Amir has brought the Kraken to life through music. While he was a composition lecturer at CalArts, his Kraken Piano Concerto was commissioned by the institute and performed by Grammy-nominated pianist Vicki Ray and players from the Los Angeles Philharmonic. In fact, Amir developed the Kraken resonators for the piano before the harp.  

“For the piano concerto, I was inspired by the concept of a ‘kluge’, a term used in engineering to describe a quick, makeshift solution that works but isn’t perfect,” says Amir. “Cognitive scientist Gary Marcus extends this idea to our biology and cognitive processes. Evolution favours survival over perfection, leading to adaptations that are effective but not always ideal. Our memory is a prime example of this. We rely heavily on it, yet it simplifies and streamlines information, focusing on what’s necessary for survival rather than preserving every detail. As long as we function well enough to survive, our memory doesn’t strive for perfection. 

“In my piano concerto, I explored this idea through piano spatialisation. Typically, when a chord is played, the notes blend together, making it hard for the audience to distinguish each one. By connecting two notes to individual sound tubes and leaving one unconnected, I aimed to separate the notes, reflecting how our memory simplifies complex experiences into manageable pieces. This approach mirrors the kluge-like nature of our minds – efficient but imperfect.”  

A Double Kraken Piano Concerto and a full symphony Kraken Harp Concerto are both on the horizon for Amir. He is currently immersed in designing his next performance – which he will be both writing and directing – while continuing to lecture and teach composition at Trinity Laban. “Working alongside Dominic Murcott in composition at Trinity Laban is truly a joy,” says Amir. “If I were to sum it up, I would say that the annual auditions (a quest to discover and nurture new voices), teaching dance film narratives (in collaboration with eminent module leader, professor Edward Jessen), and being part of a healthy, supportive community that fosters creativity and security for students are incredibly rewarding experiences. We do our best to create a healthy environment for both students and staff. Based on my experiences in various institutions and universities in the UK and the US, the way we audition and select applicants here is notably caring, supportive, and different. 

“Imagine a house that magically expands with each door you open. You start in a room with four doors, each leading to a new, unexplored room. Once you step into a new room, three more doors appear, each opening into another new space that wasn’t accessible from your original starting point. By continuing to open these doors, you eventually build a palace. Good ideas or opportunities often arise from finding the next logical step or connection. Stephen Johnson terms this the ‘adjacent possible’, describing how certain inventions make other innovations inevitable – like how the invention of lenses for eyeglasses quickly led to the development of telescopes and microscopes.  

Guided by this wisdom, we aim to help students see the potential in every opportunity and even in setbacks. The supportive and vibrant community here encourages both students and staff to explore and express their vulnerabilities, which is crucial for developing a more nuanced understanding of our emotions. This exploration allows us to tap into a richer emotional spectrum, which in turn enhances our artistic output. A depth of expression is fostered by the atmosphere at Trinity Laban, where non-traditional and non-practical approaches are encouraged, allowing us to push the boundaries of our creativity and myelinated adaptation. It enables us to create works that resonate more deeply with our audiences, as they are born out of a genuine and refined emotional understanding. It’s one of the many ways Trinity Laban has enriched my journey as a composer.” 

Amir has secured commissions from the likes of the London Symphony Orchestra, the BBC World Service, and Ether Festival, with his works being performed at prestigious venues worldwide including London’s Southbank Centre and California Institute of the Arts. Having just completed a film score produced by Intermission, Amir reveals that he’s in discussions for more film scores. He is a BAFTA connect member and previously composed the score for the Oscar-winning film The Silent Child.

“In The Silent Child, music isn’t just an accompaniment but a narrative force that reveals the inner emotions of the characters,” explains Amir. “The score may sound simple, but it’s layered with intricate textures. For instance, when you hear the clarinet play a theme, it’s not just a clarinet; the sound’s envelope has been carefully crafted for that specific motif. The same goes for the piano – some notes’ envelope have been altered through a doubling ‘prepared harp’ and orchestration, creating a depth that might not be immediately apparent to the ear. 

This approach reflects my belief that music, much like language, can perform actions – invoking emotions, revealing truths, and deepening the story. The motif that arises from my initial viewing of a scene is key, but it’s only the beginning. I then focus on how to technically enhance and embed these motifs into the fabric of the film. I only had 24 hours to compose the title theme for The Silent Child, which required me to be exceptionally prepared, a principle I stress to students. One of the most humbling aspects of this project was the unexpected recognition it received, including an Oscar nomination, screenings at over 200 festivals worldwide, and praise from both Parliament and Queen Elizabeth II. It’s a reminder that once a piece of music is released into the world, it takes on a life of its own, often detached from the challenges and effort that went into its creation.” 

In 2018-19, Amir was the LSO+ Jerwood Composer, with his Kraken Cello Concertante being commissioned by the London Symphony Orchestra and nominated for an Ivor Novella Award. “Working with the LSO was an incredible experience. I initially presented two performance plans, but the Barbican asked us to extend the programme, resulting in four performances – a rare decision given the time and budget constraints,” he reveals. “The Ivors nomination was unexpected and not a path I had foreseen. What I admire about the Ivors is their commitment to recognising music purely on its merits, judged by specialists without the influence of media –something many well-known awards lack.  

“Through this experience, I learned an important lesson: 

How can we nominate ourselves for an award every day?

The answer is simple – find awe. Awe, as defined by Dacher Keltner in his book Awe, is a fundamental emotion, as intrinsic to us as fear or joy. It’s the feeling of being in the presence of something vast that transcends our understanding of the world. 

I try to dedicate a couple of hours each day to seeking out moments of awe. In music, awe often emerges in the balance between tension and release. That’s why people replay songs in their minds – they’re drawn to that feeling of tension resolving, like a seventh chord harmonically resolves. 

Seek out awe in your daily life, especially during your creative process – whether you’re making music or crafting art. Recognise and embrace that feeling, because when you do, you’re nominating yourself for an imaginary Ivors every time. And when you share this wisdom with others, you’ve already won.”