Maeve & Quinn

Before we went dark in solidarity we were set to premiere the fantastic new single by maeve & quinn, who produce dark tinged indie folk that is as luminescent as the hours of dusk can be in their native Alaska. While we aren’t premiering their new single “2602 Eastwood Avenue” which explores a separating couple and all the emotions it drums up in the narrator, it came out a few weeks ago; we did speak with the twin sisters about their background in classical music, what brought them back to Chicago, and the responsibilities of white artists in this moment. Please take a moment to listen to their new song and read about maeve & quinn.

Link Tree for “2602 Eastwood Avenue”

M&B: Maris and Bryce O'Tierney

The two of you grew up in Alaska and came to study music at Northwestern and then went your separate ways for a bit before returning. What about Chicago brought you back?

M&B: We made the decision together to move back to Chicago because we wanted to get our footing in a major music market—play more live shows, and reach more people. There’s also the phenomenon of Chicago being a crossroads of many musical styles; outlets for us both in the classical music space, in addition to the improv and indie scenes, was a big draw.

Are your last three singles a part of a larger project or are they standalone songs?

M&B: “2602 Eastwood Ave” is the second single from our forthcoming second record; “Green was the Color” was the first single.

Your background is in classical music, how does that inform your songwriting?

M&B: The ear training, theory, and agility from years of classical training and practice gives us a foundation to compose and improvise. There’s a muscle memory and tonal memory that comes from that background. Our collaborative songwriting often takes root in improvisation, where our ability to deeply listen and respond in the moment spurs a process of fitting pieces of the puzzle together.

Do you write together or separately? And how honest are you with each other about the art?

M&B: It’s a combination of bringing material we’ve worked on separately to each other’s attention, and realizing as we’re jamming together that a song is forming. There’s something uncanny and powerful about the way we have a collective memory bank for melodies or riffs between us; something can resurface years later unexpectedly because our dialogue as collaborators and twin sisters keeps the material alive. I think we both tend to believe it if the other says “wow, that’s really good.”

Your music has a dark edge that floats just above the surface of your melodies. Where do you think this shadow come from?

M&B: The dark edge that may be there in our music is an element of the creative process, and how introspection and self-narration can reveal things never said out loud to someone else, whether that be a friendship or romantic partnership. We think there’s definitely a searching quality to our music, and lyrically, sometimes a haunting by other voices—relationships past, present, or future. Thinking about our instrumentals, there may be an ancestral aspect here, when one thinks about the oral tradition of our Irish heritage, and forms such as the lament.

In this time of radical social upheaval and renewed interest in supporting black art and causes, what do you think is the role for white artists during this time?

M&B: We feel it's a time for white artists to listen to and create space for Black artists, and then to actively help bring to the foreground the voices and visions of those Black artists by sharing and supporting their work in as specific a manner as possible. Having studied and performed music from a young age, and knowing how vital that's been for us in developing our communication skills and confidence overall as humans and specifically as Womxn, we're excited and committed to donate more of our time to music education opportunities for young Black girls in our Chicago community. In that regard, we're excited for some continued conversations with Global Girls, Inc. (a Black Womxn-run performance arts education organization in Chicago) about potentially hosting some virtual music lessons/workshops during the pandemic or other programs that answer their specific needs as they convey them to us. Acknowledging that in general the pandemic has hit the music industry and musicians hard, there's a vital opportunity for white artists, if they're able from a financial perspective, to call upon their own audiences to transform support of their work toward donations for Black artists and Black artistic expression. This past week we've been collecting donations for Global Girls Inc. via digital song sales for our new single "2602 eastwood avenue". Also, we really love visual art alongside music, so, as we answer in the question below, it's been an important time to also reflect upon the Black visual artists we admire and who have influenced us, and to use our social media platforms to share their work.

You have been posting on social media about black visual artists for the last several weeks. What draws you to the work of these amazing artists? And where are you finding them?

M&B: Yes! We have been sharing visual art on our instagram by contemporary Black Womxn Artists Lorna Simpson, Carrie Mae Weems, and Julie Mehretu, and also by Terry Adkins. All of these artists are exciting to us in how they work across and combine multiple mediums (photography, performance, poetry/spoken word, collage, painting, drawing), and use that interdisciplinary platform to address the complex layers of personal and political valences in gender, race, history, and identity. Maris studied art history alongside music at university and first came to know of Lorna Simpson, Carrie Mae Weems, Julie Mehretu, and Terry Adkins through that foundation; we have admired their work for many years, and wanted to share their work on our social media platforms as tribute to their power and perspective as thinkers and creators. Maris first saw Lorna Simpson's work in person when she was 19 and visiting an exhibit of hers at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago; emotionally moved at that time by how she applied an intersectional feminist perspective to the Black experience, through Black Womxn bodies in particular, using photographic collage and language. She actually met and worked with Terry Adkins at the Block Museum of Art for an exhibition of his there, and was drawn to him for how he melded his work and approach as a jazz musician-composer-improviser with his sculptural work visually. We're both interested in architecture and urban planning in terms of how it reflects, shapes, constrains, or challenges social behavior and structures of power as related to gender, class, and race; Carrie Mae Weems -- through her performance and photography, see Roaming -- and Julie Mehretu -- through her abstract paintings and drawings, both dig into that area.

In your opinion, do you think it's easier to work with a sibling or does it make it more difficult because you know each other so well?

M&B: Being creative collaborators who are also twin sisters means that we have a fundamental level of trust and vulnerability with each other; we have different strengths between us and push each other. Being up on stage with each other means we’re never alone; there’s immense power in that.

When we can finally have shows again, what would be your dream bill for your first show back?

M&B: Dream bill for us would be opening a show for The National, one of our favorite bands. Venue-wise, SPACE in Evanston has a special place in our heart and it would feel incredible to be a part of their re-opening.