Interview with David Nevue
As a child, I spent a part of most afternoons quietly in my room while my little siblings napped. I liked to play my favorite CDs—often piano hymns—and, while I was supposed to be doing homework, I would often spend the time acting out made-up scenarios. Those solo afternoons ended up being a regular oasis for me, giving me time to refresh my imagination through reading or daydreaming and keeping me from imploding.
As our editorial team was talking about what we wanted the purpose and theme for this year’s issue to be, a lot of ideas came up. Since it was the 40th anniversary of the Wineskin, we wanted it to be connected to our history and to bring back some traditional elements of the original publications. We flipped through old issues of the Wineskin from George Fox College, delighting in the old fonts and prints. We took turns reading aloud lines from the old poems, tasting them to see how they would work for a title. We settled on the phrase “sudden song,” taken from a poem found in the third issue of the Wineskin, from 1986. The poet, David Nevue, had written many poems featured in the Wineskin at that time, and was also an editor for a couple of years. We liked the various ways the phrase could be interpreted, and thought it would be a neat homage to the people who had helped get the Wineskin off the ground.
When we announced our theme at our kickoff event, I explained the meaning of “Sudden Song.” Afterwards, one of my friends asked me, “The guy who wrote the poem—do you know if he’s a pianist? The name sounds familiar. I think I remember playing a piano piece by him.”
Intrigued, when I went home that night, I looked up his name and found that the pianist Nevue and the poet Nevue were one and the same. I looked through his albums and, to my surprise, I knew one of them! Adoration: Solo Piano Hymns had been one of my favorite CDs to listen to on repeat during my quiet afternoons. It had been years since I had heard it; I’d forgotten all about it.
I emailed Mr. Nevue the next morning to tell him we were using a line from his poem as our title. He has been gracious enough to correspond with me a bit since then and I even got to interview him! We published a shortened version in our issue this year, but I’m excited to share the full interview with you here on our blog!
Clara, thank you for reaching out and requesting an interview. What an honor to be asked! Working on the Wineskin was one of the highlights of my time at George Fox.
What years were you editor for the Wineskin?
I was co-editor across two years, 1986 and 1987, spanning the Wineskin Volumes 3, 4, and 5.
What interested you in the Wineskin at the beginning?
As it happens, I was the editor of my high school's Literary Arts magazine, "The Empyrean," my senior year (1983). The Empyrean featured short stories, essays, poetry, and printed artwork, much as the Wineskin does. So, when I was attending George Fox and heard there was a plan to start up a similar project, I was all about it. The Wineskin debuted its first Volume the latter half of my freshman year. I submitted some of my work, and one of my poems, "Closing Night," was accepted and included. The following year, several of my poems were selected, and in the process, I became good friends with Fred Tillman, one of the editors. He and I got together on a regular basis to share our writings and exchange feedback. Fred was a joy to work with! I don't recall how it all came about, but his co-editor, Sharon, stepped down, and Professor Ed Higgins, who was the Wineskin's sponsor and advisor, asked me if I'd like to step in. I said yes, of course! Professor Higgins was one of my favorite profs, as he was the Literature and Creative Writing prof at the time. My most vivid classroom memories from college are the sometimes wild and animated lectures he would give. One time, I turned a paper in to him that I did last minute and so did a haphazard job on. I don't remember what grade he gave me, but I do remember he rubber-stamped my paper with an ink stamp of a pig's butt, complete with a corkscrew tail! Professor Higgins was always ready to press a student on their answers and opinions, forcing them to defend their arguments and to think deeper. Both Fred and Professor Higgins had a substantial influence on my approach to writing.
What is the value of a small, local publication like the Wineskin?
A small, local publication is the perfect platform for a writer just starting out. You get to release your work for public view on a small scale, which gains you the benefit of being published side by side with other creatives. Plus, you put yourself in a place to receive feedback and hopefully encouraging words from others, especially if a reader deeply connects with your work.
The process of submitting work for public view also causes you to refine your art and edit until there is no more refining or editing to do. The overall experience, repeated over time with new opportunities, helps you develop your own "voice." While submitting your work does expose you to possible rejection or exclusion, the risk and the experience you gain from it carry forward into the real world. If you want to succeed, you have to be willing to fail, even publicly, as when you fail, you learn, adapt, and grow a thicker skin.
Another great thing about a smaller publication like the Wineskin is that everyone submitting work is more or less at the same level, so you share the risk of public scrutiny with other artists. It's the difference between playing a solo instrument vs. playing an instrument as part of an orchestra or band. When there are many voices or instruments, it's easier to play with confidence knowing that you're part of a collective and not playing "naked" with your insufficiencies exposed for all to see. The art you express, which may otherwise be difficult to share, becomes just one part of a larger orchestra of many voices, working together to play a symphony of work that represents the human spirit.
My poetry and other writings are an expression of my innermost heart and emotions. They were, when I was a teenager, entirely private expressions of my thoughts, struggles, feelings, life moments, and observations. In those early years, my writings were a part of my journaling process and were never meant to be seen by anyone. However, watching my high school classmates submit their own personal writings to "The Empyrean" made me want to offer something of my own to the creative community. So just by virtue of its existence, that small publication drew me out of my shell and gave me confidence. The more I got involved, the more I wanted to be recognized for my work and seen as an artist and valued contributor.
So I'm very grateful for that high school publication and the opportunity it provided, both as an aspiring poet and eventually as the editor. The Wineskin magazine at George Fox allowed me to continue on that path. Today, I am still writing and publishing both words and music.
What hopes would you have for the Wineskin’s future?
When you contacted me, I was delighted to hear that the Wineskin is still publishing after all these years! That amazes me, and under the same publication name, too! I am also pleased that the Wineskin still has a Christ-centered focus. Seeing that part of the Wineskin's stated manifesto is to glorify Christ through art in its many forms is incredible. My hope would be that that focus would continue. It's a blessing to have a creative outlet like this where believers in Christ can freely express themselves, not only to actively glorify God through their creative work but also to freely and honestly express sadness, hardship, questions, tears, desire for meaning, joy, and even romantic love.
What is the best piece of advice you received as a young poet or musician?
In his creative writing lectures, Professor Higgins emphasized the cutting of excess words, with the deliberate intention of trimming a written poem down to its most striking images. The more verbiage you cut, the more powerful the words and images that remain. More words do not always improve a poem or story. There comes a point when more becomes muddle.
One of the writing design choices I made at that time, and still employ, is to ensure a poem's title is as impactful to the poem as the rest of the work. The title isn't just a title; it's a snapshot, a statement, and a literary device to lead the reader, from the very first word, toward the meaning you wish to convey. In short, the poem's title is as much a part of the poem as is the poem itself.
The same is true for my musical compositions for the piano. My music IS my poetry now. The titles I give my compositions are deliberate, as they give the listener insight into my intention, as expressed through melodic emphasis, phrasing, and song structure. Well-thought-out titles are a powerful way to create an immediate and meaningful impression on the reader and listener.
In terms of just being an artist and receiving a "word" of encouragement, there was a moment, years ago, when I was trying out a digital piano at Rife's Music at Clackamas Town Center in Portland. This was in the early 1990s, before I had any idea that music would become my career. I was playing one of my pieces, getting into it, and a man walked up beside me and said, "Do not give up. No matter what happens or how discouraged you feel, keep playing the piano. Keep going. Don't stop." I was very near the end of my piece, so I finished it up and turned to thank him, but he was gone. I was startled and ran out of the store and into the mall, looking both ways to find this stranger, but he had vanished. This felt very much like one of those "You may be entertaining angels" moments. The way that happened and the mystery of it implanted a memory in my psyche and engraved his words onto my heart. I have always felt that that was an angelic encounter in my life, but whether or not that is so, that stranger imparted a message to me that I carry with me to this day. So I view that man as a messenger from God, angelic or not.
So... if you love doing creative work, do it. Don't stop. The desire to create is in our nature. God designed us for it.
As I look back over my long career as a professional pianist, composer, and recording artist, I attribute my success to, of course, the leading of the Holy Spirit and His faithfulness, but also the fact that no matter what obstacles I encountered, I kept moving forward. Even circumstances that you perceive as failure can help you refine and improve your work or try out a new strategy or approach. It's easy, as an artist, to let perfectionism, insecurity, weariness, or over-obsession take your joy away. There are many difficulties to overcome, including just having to earn a living. It takes many years to generate a little income from art, and sometimes you never do, but you can't let that prevent you from releasing your work into the world. If God made you for it and put that desire to express into you, then trust the work God is doing in you. Put your faith in HIM. You will find a way through the mire as the Lord leads you on the path He has already set before you.
The bottom line is, I love writing and composing music. So I keep at it, for the love of it, for the glory of God, and because it brings me joy. I am very fortunate and blessed that it brings others joy as well.
How does your faith influence the art you put into the world?
I've always considered my art and musical ability to be a gift from God, pure and simple. I know that's a cliché thing to say, but it's true. I would have had ZERO success without God's blessing, leading, and frankly, His intervention. Knowing and believing this, I feel strongly that the best thing I can do with this undeserved gift is to give it right back to Him. As the Lord blesses me, I invest those blessings and gifts back into His Kingdom and for His glory.
The music I compose has always been a reflection of my spiritual walk in one way or another. Not only as it pertains to my compositions but also as it relates to my public persona as a performer, my social media presence, devotional writings, and the few videos I produce. Following after Jesus has saved me from despair. In light of this, I feel an urgency to SHINE BRIGHT the hope I have in Christ. This broken and divisive world needs more creative lights to push back on the darkness and negativity that's so pervasive.
I used to approach my life as though it were primarily about my music career—about "marketing myself." While I very much wanted to honor God with my music and be an ambassador for Him, a small part of me wanted a share of the spotlight—and the credit. I sought affirmation in the appreciation and applause of other humans, and my identity was grounded in that, rather than being grounded in Christ. All that changed when God, by His Spirit and through some dark days, stripped me to my emotional bones. In a time of declining health, worry, and confusion, I was forced to lean entirely into God's grace and sovereignty. I came to realize that the point of my life isn't just my music and art. I am more than that. My entire being, all that I am and my every aspect, exists to glorify God. Imperfectly, yes, but that's my True North. That is my compass. That's what I want, at my core, to do.
My hope is that my music and writings will become, and continue to be, a comforting "refuge in the storm" for listeners and readers. A quiet place where a wandering heart might come to better understand and sense God's grace and love for them. I want my life and music to serve as a signpost saying... "That way... there's Jesus. He's worthy of your attention. Get to know who He really is."
If you remember anything about your poem, “Implosion for solo piano” can you tell us about it? What inspired it?
I often compare musical composition to making pottery or carving out a sculpture. You start out with a big blob of whatever your medium is, and you start removing chunks, chipping away at it to "find" the art. I generally have two approaches to musical composition. I either come to the piano with a moment, emotion, or experience that I want to express through music or, if I have no idea what I want to do, I just sit down and start playing random things. My poem, "Implosion for Solo Piano," is about the latter approach. When I first begin composing a piece, it's loud, obnoxious, chaotic, and filled with dissonance and notes that don't play well together. At some point, a melodic phrase, interesting chord, or rhythm will pop out at me. Once I find a musical spark that catches my ear, I'll develop it and bring it to the foreground, bringing order from the chaos. Sometimes this is a quick process (an hour or two); sometimes it's a long process (months). Either way, I keep shaping the piece, pulling beauty out of the initial splattering of notes until the song structure takes form.
When I compose words, whether it be poems, essays, or musings of a devotional nature (which is what I write mostly these days), I take a similar approach. I begin with stream-of-consciousness writing, then whittle away at it, removing excess words and moving phrases and thoughts around until the final form takes shape.
Here's the poem you referenced...
Implosion (for solo piano) - by David E. Nevue
ff
POUND! POUND! POUND!
Rake those black and
White jewels
Into the mind-pit
Hungrily-Swallow hard
To calm a belly-acheSoon comes a sudden song,
Thrown up through fingertips.pound,
and again pound, and on...
until soon
smooth and soft
and song.pp
The poem begins at ff - which is the musical notation for VERY LOUD - and finishes at pp, the musical notation for very soft.
The first paragraph represents the HUNGER, the need to create, which is sometimes the result of a highly charged, emotional life experience.
The need to process that emotion or experience through music is a compulsion. In the moment of inspiration, I can't stop eating it up. It's food. It's energy.
The very act of DOING this appeases the rage, the sorrow, the ache, and the need. When the song appears, it's sudden.
A spark is lit, and it brings with it clarity about the musical destination. I find purpose at the piano.
With clarity comes calm. I relax and rest in it, and the music settles into its final form.
Soon... smooth, and soft, and song.
pp = peace, of the most quiet kind.
Portrait by Jaymie Starr, 2021
David Nevue (pronounced NEV-Yoo) is a modern solo piano artist, composer, and performer who resides in the Eugene, Oregon area. He has released seventeen albums of original piano works and arrangements, garnering him multiple awards for piano/instrumental "Album of the Year" as well as chart-topping albums for his genre on Billboard (Top 5), iTunes, and Amazon.com (both #1). In 2003, David founded Whisperings: Solo Piano Radio, the very first Internet radio broadcast to feature solo piano music exclusively. He is an official Shigeru Kawai piano artist and has received recognition for his work, music, and accomplishments in the Wall Street Journal, Rolling Stone magazine, and numerous other blogs and publications. A seasoned performer, Nevue frequently tours, playing concert halls, piano galleries, churches, and private concerts in people’s homes. He has shared the stage with some of the genre's most recognized names, including David Lanz, Wayne Gratz, Peter Kater, Suzanne Ciani, and dozens of other pianists. To learn more about David, his albums, sheet music, and life story, visit his website atwww.davidnevue.com.
