Sight and Sound: Composer Interviews
The following is a correspondence interview with Quetzal Martinez, Sadie Olsen, and Caleb Martin—conducted by UMFA communications coordinator, J. Attridge.
When you visit a fine arts museum, you probably expect to see paintings, sculptures, and other visual art, but you may not expect to be greeted by live opera music. This fall, the Utah Museum of Fine Arts invites you to treat your eyes and ears to worldclass art! Sight & Sound at the UMFA offers free music performances for the public, inspired by art at the Museum.
“For this program, the UMFA collaborates with a wide range of musicians and composers to create performances that connect back to exhibitions on view at UMFA,” says Quetzal Martinez, manager of university student programs at the Museum. “This program is important because it allows visitors to experience visual and performance arts complimenting each other, making for an interdisciplinary or cross modal encounter with art. By collaborating with musicians and composers we are bringing attention to local artists and showcasing the strong connection between art forms.”
Incredible composers from the University Composer’s Collective found inspiration in the art on view in the special exhibition, For the Future: Collecting at the UMFA 2001–2026. These never-before-heard compositions will be performed live by the Student Opera Guild in the UMFA G.W. Anderson Family Great Hall on October 28, 2026.
Two composers, Sadie Olsen and Caleb Martin, agreed to give At the Heart of it All readers a behind-the-scenes peek at their artistic process and give some insights into what you will experience at the Sight and Sound performance at the Museum!
Caleb Martin
Utah-based composer, Caleb Martin is best known for his vocal writing, from barbershop to art songs to pop. A devoted student of the styles he adores, he writes music dense with delicious detail. He is currently writing a series on Utah’s myths, from pioneer seagull miracles to Uinta Basin UFOs.
Why did you choose to become a composer?
I chose the music composition program at the U because it was closest to what I actually wanted to do at the time: write and produce pop music. I did have musical experience before coming here; I played viola in orchestra for six years and dabbled in musical theater in high school. While I enjoyed those styles, I really wanted to learn to record and produce my own music in popular styles like pop, rock, and R&B. The U doesn’t have a music production degree, so I chose the next best thing—music composition. It has been an incredible experience, and ultimately, I’m glad the U didn’t quite have what I was looking for, because I think I got something better.
My musicianship training as a singer and composer would have looked completely different if I had only studied pop. My compositional voice is very eclectic, partly because my studies here exposed me to so many incredible composers and artists I might otherwise have taken much longer to find. I feel an affinity for Ravel and Tchaikovsky, but also for Stephen Sondheim and George Gershwin, and for Stevie Wonder and Joni Mitchell, and I think that comes through in my music. Not every piece I write is a mash-up of those styles, but loving and learning about all of them has led me to write music that feels uniquely my own, with pieces of all those influences within the whole. I am quite excited to graduate, however, and to have more time and energy for producing and recording. I would love to really get to know my DAW (digital audio workstation) and use it more like an instrument. When I came to the U, I wanted to write my own music. Before I started here, I had never written a complete song, and now I have written many—so in the end I did get what I wanted, just not on the path I was expecting when I first became interested in writing music.
What was the source of inspiration for your Sight and Sound composition?

For my Sight and Sound composition, I chose the artwork JG (offset) by artist Tacita Dean. At the beginning of this process, we were given a list of artworks to choose from, and as I scrolled through, my attention was immediately caught by the first panel in this series. The rich colors, the simplicity of the shapes, the sense of space that the panel contained within; I had a strong emotional response to it, and so I knew I could probably write a good composition around it. Ultimately, I ended up writing two pieces, one about the first panel, and one about the last. To me, these serve as bookends, holding all the other pieces together in between. That was my direct inspiration. But what makes this artwork in particular interesting is that it is in dialogue with two other pieces of art, a short story by the science fiction writer J.G. Ballard called The Voices of Time (hence the name JG (offset)), and Robert Smithson’s earthwork and film Spiral Jetty. Dean had a correspondence with J.G. Ballard regarding the connections between his story and Smithson’s earthwork, and that correspondence inspired Dean’s own work. Because of these connections, I also had Ballard’s story and Smithson’s jetty to draw upon when writing these pieces, and by creating my own work of art inspired by these others, it felt as if I too was joining the conversation between these three other artists.
A lot of my work is inspired by the place I live: Utah’s history, peoples, cultures, and myths. This perfectly dovetailed with much of the imagery and setting of these pieces, filled with vast saline deserts heavy with the weight of the past, and given the appearance of Spiral Jetty in Dean’s work, there is a literal connection here to Utah.
Describe your process for composing. What do you think about? What goes into the process?
My composition process is very concept- and story-based. I often start with a title or concept, and the rest of the piece grows from that kernel. With these compositions, I knew one would be paired with the first panel and one with the last, and I wanted the two pieces to contrast the way the panels do—the first filled with rising light and brilliance, the second more obscured, gentle, and diminished. I also wanted to use the piano as a source of reverb, having the singers sing into it at points, so the piano echoes their voices. Dean’s artwork and Ballard’s story share themes of time, birth, and decay; The Voices of Time has an apocalyptic and cosmic bent that really resonated with me. So, the process usually begins with a general idea of the textures and emotions I want the pieces to convey. From there, melody and lyrics provide the greatest guide, especially in these pieces for piano and voice. I love writing my own lyrics, and as is often the case, the lyrics lead me to the vocal line, which leads me to the piano accompaniment that supports it. Composing is different every time, but writing the lyrics gives me a roadmap for the emotional and narrative arc of the piece.
Process-wise, I do a lot of revising, a lot of messing around, and a lot of incubating. Often the music I’m writing gets stuck in my head (in a way that’s both maddening and fun), but that constant obsession with the piece usually leads to something new. Many times, I’ve found myself sitting in a lecture or riding the bus, “playing” the piece in my head over and over and over, imagining what could change or come next. I’m also very inspired by other composers, so I do a lot of research and listening to works that use textures, instrumentation, and affects similar to what I want to achieve.
Tell me about your composition. What is it called? What do you hope people will experience when your piece is performed?
I wrote two compositions, sister works of a sort, titled At Last! and At Rest. I hope that people experience thoughtfulness and introspection, as well as rousing hope and a quiet, grim acceptance. These are highly contrasting works (an exclamation point ! vs a period .) that take opposing spots in time and emotion. To me, At Last! is filled with creation, triumph, warmth, and newness, while At Rest. is colder, disintegrating, and delicate, existing at the end of days after the last stars have burned out in the sky. Both works by Ballard and Dean center on humanity’s place in larger contexts (in landscapes, in the vastness of the universe, in the vastness of time), and there is a sobering sense of smallness that comes when considering our own mortality against these concepts that exist at scales that are almost incomprehensible to our human minds. To me, this is simultaneously very depressing and freeing. After all, the universe is about 13.8 billion years old, and the timeline for its possible heat death is a number with a hundred or more zeros at the end—when considering that, our very human, very temporary worries and fears are so minuscule that there is a feeling of release, of absolution. At Rest. in particular has lots of space, silence, and decay built into it to facilitate those feelings. I hope that my pieces will convey those emotions to the audience, providing people with a moment of interiority, consideration, and tranquility.
Sadie Olson
Sadie Olsen, is a composer who writes for classical voice with a focus on opera. Sadie is currently getting her undergraduate degree in music composition from the University of Utah. Her work focuses on themes of gender, sexuality, and love. Sadie often arranges her own text from older literary works.
Why did you choose to become a composer?
I watched my first opera on YouTube when I was fourteen. It was an incredibly grainy recording of Gounod’s Faust, without English subtitles. I didn’t really know what was going on, but I loved it. I had never seen a story depicted so highly emotionally with such beauty and sympathy.
Another part of that memory that sticks out to me is seeing my first pants role, anyone who talks to me knows how much I love pants roles. A pants role is a male character played by a woman, and before I had seen Faust I had never known that such gender ambiguity could exist. Someone once called me a “real life pants role”, and I wear that as a badge of honor. Opera is the one media that I see myself regularly depicted in. Opera showed me the importance of representation, and I wanted to be a part of it.
What was the source of inspiration for your Sight and Sound composition?

The Lekythos is an ancient Greek oil flask and an object so old being featured in a gallery with the theme of ‘for the future’ really interested me. It made me think about how the past and the future are intertwined. The flask being from ancient Greece and Apollo being the god of prophecy felt very fitting for the theme.
I learned about this opportunity while I was in Boston right after going to the Harvard art museum. In addition to the Lekythos at the UMFA, three pieces stood out to me at the Harvard art Museum, a 15th century wooden pieta by an unidentified artist, and two paintings of Venus and Adonis.
I love pietas because it is a genre of art simply meant to inspire empathy. Sympathy and empathy are two things that I always strive for in my music. I want the listener to see and be seen. To be seen in a piece of art is to be validated, and it confirms that you are not alone. I want to provide my listener with that because I know that being seen can change your life. I also want to listener to see. By seeing, I mean I want to inspire empathy in my audience for the subjects of my work. Sympathy is what makes us human and our ability to feel other’s pain is the most beauty thing about us.
The other two pieces that really caught my attention were two paintings of Venus and Adonis. Venus and Adonis is a regenerative myth, which is a myth with a character who dies– usually a lover, and their body is turned into some natural regenerative thing. Like a flower or a river. Other examples include Apollo and Daphne, and Acis and Galatea. I really hate these myths, but I love them because I hate them. Imagine your lover dies and you get a river as a consolation prize. Regenerative myths have a pasted on endings to make a tragedy more bearable, but I’m not satisfied with that ending. The grief doesn’t stop just because we have a “happy ending”.
Describe your process for composing. What do you think about? What goes into the process?
When I start a new piece of music I will really dive in and research the text I’m using. For this piece I used text from Ovid’s Metamorphoses translated by John Ozell. The Metamorphoses is a collection of myths about transformations. E. J. Kenney wrote “Ovid depicts a universe in which human beings, and more often than not the gods who are supposed to be in charge, are at the mercy of blind or arbitrary or cruel, and always irresistible forces… In this dangerous and uncertain world, the happy ending is the exceptions”.
Another thing I do when I’m writing a new piece is I will make a playlist of any music I like about the character I’m writing for. Luckly for me there is a lot of music about Apollo, my favorite is Cara Pianta co’ Miei Pianta from Handel’s Apollo e Dafne. It’s what Apollo sings after Daphne is turned into a tree. It’s slow, and aching, and mournful. I wanted those qualities in my piece, so I studied how Handel wrote the accompaniment, I even quoted a little bit in my piece.
Tell me about your composition. What is it called? What do you hope people will experience when your piece is performed?
My piece is called Apollo and Hyacinthus, and it’s about the regenerative myth of Apollo and Hyacinthus. The story is Apollo and his lover, Hyacinthus are playing sports when Hyacinthus is fatally wounded by a ball thrown by Apollo. If you see a painting of this myth you’ll notice that Hyacinthus doesn’t have any obvious injuries, in Ovid’s myth Hyacinthus’ skull is crushed. There is no final goodbye, no closure. Apollo mourns Hyacinthus and then turns him into a hyacinth flower. Hyacinths are one of the first flowers to bloom in spring, and hyacinth blubs will bloom for a few years. Apollo is the god of prophecy, and by turning his Hyacinthus into a hyacinth he is preparing for Hyacinthus’ return in the future. In my text Apollo moves from past tense to present and finally to future tense. My piece is a reflection of grief and asks how do we move on from it. Grief is mourning what we wished would be in the future. How do we bring what we have lost in the past into the future.
The header image of this blog is a detail of Elisabeth Louise Vigée-LeBrun’s portrait of the composer Natalia Ivanovna Kurakina.
.jpg)