Theo Espy (he/them, b. 1993) is a violinist from New York City currently based in Chicago as a member of the Grammynominated Spektral Quartet. Theo studied for two years at the Universität Mozarteum in Salzburg with Paul Roczek, and later received a Bachelor’s degree in Violin Performance from the New England Conservatory under the supervision of Lucy Chapman. He has attended Greenwood Music Camp, Sarasota Music Festival, Kneisel Hall Chamber Music Festival, the Composer’s Conference Contemporary Performance Institute, and the Lucerne Music Festival as a student, and was invited back to the Composer’s Conference in Summer 2019 as a member of the faculty ensemble and chamber coach. In his free time, Theo enjoys drawing with micron pens, film photography, tending to his plants, electronic music production, and hanging out in the woods.
I was connected to Theo via the wonderful people at Spektral Quartet in Chicago. Theo has been a violinist with the group for a few years. Listening to him talk about his upbringing as a child of two musicians was about as wonderful and foreign as I could imagine being child of a probation officer and an engineer. We had this lovely chat in February, which of course now feels like years ago. In the interview we talk about touring and future concerts. All of which are of course now cancelled. The pandemic has not been kind to many industries, but performance has been, and will continue to be, hard hit for a very long time. When Theo and I talked about posting this interview, we discussed leaving out the future details. Not even mentioning the concerts that never happened. But, I think of it as a bit of a time capsule. No one is sure when schedules like this will return, but somehow I find it oddly comforting to read. I hope you enjoy what Theo has to say.
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{Jacob} - When you were at NEC, were you part of the Queer Student Union? QUEST?
{Theo} - I was not. I think maybe that was after my time, but honestly I’m not sure that it would have occurred to me to join at that age anyway. I wasn’t really self-identifying as queer yet…I’d like to think that maybe I would have wanted to be involved as an ally? Who knows, maybe sharing a space like that would have helped speed up some of my own self reflection and cognition of my place within the queer community…
{Jacob} - It is interesting that you say that. I run a Queer Ensemble here in Nova Scotia. It is a bit of an offshoot of this project. It is mainly just somewhere for local queer musicians to get together and play. It is really informal and it has no barriers to who can be in it. We have people who play professionally with the local symphony, but also people who barely read music and just want to come make music and build community. When we first started, we had a big conversation as a group about the mission of the ensemble. One of the topics we covered was allies in the group. Is that something we should encourage or was this a purely queer safe space? After a lot of discussion, we decided that allies should be part of the group and that it is important they are there. Mainly for the reason that you have no idea who would identify as queer if they were given the space, or if they had the community, or if they had different experiences leading up to that moment. And then sure enough, about 3 months into the ensemble working together, I had the pleasure of talking with a person who was in the group as an ally that had an awakening and realized that they were drawn to the ensemble as an ally because they were, in fact, queer. Had we excluded them, they would have likely taken even more time to come to that realization! I don’t think it’s groundbreaking to say that representation and safe spaces are important, but it holds true. If we can have those spaces for people that are open and safe and barrier free then who knows who it can affect.
{Theo} - Representation and queer timelines are such a funny thing. I think about this all the time in the context of my own life: I grew up in such a diverse and liberal place and definitely saw many examples of ways to be a queer person in the world, but, like so many of us, I just wasn’t ready until I was ready. There were moments in my life where I was finding entry points into the queer community through friends or colleagues, and engaging with art and culture coming out of those spaces, but didn’t yet feel justified in labeling myself as part of the community. I think there is a certain amount of impostor syndrome that can happen to many people who are exploring these facets of identity for the first time. Do I feel queer enough to label myself as queer? Will people think I’m legitimate if I don’t display these attributes or thrive within these stereotypes? Do I need to be with this type of person, or look this type of way? I remember feeling anxious that I would be appropriating a label, or taking up space in an environment that wasn’t mine to occupy. It’s funny to me now, because so many people I’ve gotten to know and looked up to as “seasoned” queers or elders have shared with me that there was a period of time in their development where they, too, didn’t feel “queer enough.” But as a wise friend once said to me — most cis-het people don’t sit around questioning their sexuality or gender identity to this degree, and if the label resonates with you then that label IS for you. All in all, I still consider those more clouded years really important for my own growth. It’s so much more potent to step forward and claim something as being central to your own safety and existence when you have already practiced feeling galvanized in that way for others. So yes, I think those spaces that allow allies are vital.
{Theo} - You’re very right. Everyone’s timeline and goalposts are different. I look at the understanding I have of myself now and the work I do. And then I try to imagine telling my junior high or high school self about my current life. Although, I wasn’t old when I came out at all - I was 19 - it took me several years just to catch up. I’m 32 now, but it has only been in the last 5-7 years that I have started to understand what being queer is like for me. What that means for my relationships, friendships, family life, career, and everything in between. I wouldn’t have been ready for my current life at 19, even though I was out. I’m not even sure 25 year old Jacob was ready.
{Theo} - It’s so funny. I often think now, in my young adulthood, about how rare my situation was as a young person. Being a young person in Manhattan, and even attending middle school in a markedly queer neighborhood where I witnessed a huge diversity of people and relationships. Compared to others who are maybe growing up in places where there's no visibility, I had a lot of exposure - but not even that led me to early enlightenment about my gender identity or sexuality. I wasn't that I didn't possess any of the vocabulary for it or was wholly unaware of my options, I just didn’t understand the nuances that existed, and how I could find a way to feel fully recognized as myself as someone who didn't fit neatly into the gender binary. I had to spend a long time working through the assumptions placed on me by society, reckoning with the ways in which I never felt that I adhered well to them, and seeking out other people who I recognized myself within, just to feel like I had “permission” to claim my identity fully.
{Jacob} - Do you find yourself listening to a lot of queer artists? Is that something you think about when you're listening to music?
{Theo} -I do think about it. I think all types of visibility, even (or especially!) the quieter kinds are so important, so if an artist either explicitly or implicitly alludes to their queerness, it definitely factors into how I experience the music. I do find myself gravitating towards queer artists, I think partially just because it still feels so magical to me - to see someone I recognize myself in succeeding within my own industry. I think that excitement has also found its way into my quartet as well in a really beautiful way. We each have a certain amount of agency over what we play and what music we bring to the group or advocate for when we’re planning our programming, and I think collectively we’re also pushing ourselves more and more as an organization to find the most intentional ways to perform and center music written by those voices which have generally been overlooked in the Classical music world.