Composer and Pulitzer Prize finalist Jlin (Jerrilynn Patton) brings her program, n! = 3! (Permutation of Three), to the Walker Art Center on Thursday, October 2. This visceral evening of collaboration —copresented by the Walker, Liquid Music, and Northrop — demonstrates Jlin’s expansive musical universe, featuring solo electronic material; collaborations with omnivorous violinist and composer Daniel Bernard Roumain and renowned tap improviser and choreographer Leonardo Sandoval; and the Kronos Quartet-commissioned Little Black Book, performed by musicians of the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra (SPCO).

Artist and writer Yaz Lancaster sat down with Jlin ahead of the show to explore the philosophical connections between her work, the power of creative surrender, and the art of finding infinite possibility in a blank creative canvas.

This interview took place on September 16, 2025 and has been edited for clarity.

Yaz: How did you discover footwork music? What drew you to it?

Jlin: I was four years old. I heard it for the first time at a neighbor’s house — I could kind of hear it through her headphones. I was very fascinated by the sound. She took her headphones off and told me it was a footwork track, and that it was music out of Chicago. I just never forgot that sound.

I got reintroduced to footwork again in high school during a talent show, and then again in college. High school was where it really probably sparked, though. After that moment I remembered how much I loved it.

During all of this, were you listening to recordings and music online? Or were you also going out and seeing DJs too?

No, the first concert I ever been to was my own. So no.

Oh, that’s really awesome actually. I love footwork too — as more of a fan and listener. I’ve been expanding my practice through DJing recently, and I opened for DJ Manny and DJ Paypal in Brooklyn back in July. But I didn’t play any footwork at all. I was like, ‘I should let them do that.’

I think that’s actually smart. I don’t like when people open up for me and they start playing footwork music. I applaud you for doing that — you should do your own thing!

Totally! Anyway, sort of the same question, but how did you get into classical and contemporary classical music?

I’ve always loved classical music. I would say that my earliest memory is probably watching The Hours (2002). Philip Glass composed that score. I was older — I was in junior year of high school — so it resonated with me a bit harder. It moved me in a different way.

When did you realize that you can sort of put these two things — electronic dance music and classical music — together?

I always knew that I could because I knew that art is art. We as human beings put things in genre but music is music. Vibration is vibration. Sound is sound. They’re just different expressions of the same thing. I never separated them — I didn’t say ‘Oh, this is classical and that’s trap and that’s blues and that’s gospel.’

However it comes out is how it comes out. I create from a very blank canvas space, I don’t have a blueprint. I never know what I’m going to do til I sit down and do it.

So what is the process like if you’re working on a piece? When you do something like the track for Kronos, or one that’s purely electronic, is that process the same? Maybe how it’s communicated is just what’s a little different? Because I assume Kronos would be reading from some form of notation.

Yes, but I still have the exact same approach. And that approach is: I have nothing, but I know everything is in nothing. As far as the technicalities, I usually just send over my stems or the MIDI files depending on what each collaborator needs. But other than that it’s the same.

I surrender myself to the creative process. I know in surrender is where I have the most control. I’m not even trying to understand what’s happening in the creative process, I’m just creating. I don’t need to know the mechanics of it — not even in my own process.

I love that. So, jumping into the actual show at the Walker Art Center — I’m wondering if you can share a little bit about the program. What can people expect to hear?

So as you can see, it’s like a math equation (n! = 3!). There is this combination of three entities. We all are derived from each other as artists, because there’s nothing new under the sun. But in the process of that happening, that means that now you have created combinations of different outcomes.

Once you create these combinations, now you open that up into infinite spaces because one thing derives from another thing derives from another thing, and you keep producing these different combinations of things.

And so that’s the idea. It’s never just this or that, it’s an inclusiveness of everything. Infinite space to me is very definitive, but it’s very open. It’s about the [Saint Paul Chamber] Orchestra, Daniel [Bernard Roumain], Leo[nardo Sandoval], and myself coming together and deriving from the same space of art.

Have you collaborated with these musicians before?

I’ve collaborated with Daniel on an improvisation, and I’ve collaborated with Leo for my album Akoma. And I also recently collaborated with [Leo] this year for a performance of Precision of Infinity. I played it and he tapped to it.

That’s sweet. Is the tap dancing meant to be sort of a connection to, or maybe departure from footwork?

I wouldn’t put it under the context of footwork. I love footwork, but I’m not just a footwork artist. The tap is a form of expression that for me, especially being Black, starts as a very tribal thing. A lot of times, Leo performs in a very tribal way. He brings it into the forms of stepping, and other forms of dance. I love that about his work. It’s so smooth, and it’s fluid. That goes very well with the way that my music is — it’s rhythmic and it shifts and it’s unpredictable. We understand each other’s space of creativity pretty well.

Oh, that’s so beautiful… I wish I could see this show!

Your sound is so distinctive, but it’s also really open and encompasses a lot of different styles and genres and disciplines — you’re not concerned with fitting into one thing. How do you find these different sources of inspiration? Are you super tapped in online and able to find a lot of things via the internet? Or do you go out and see a lot of different shows and art?

“I never go in thinking ‘this is the space I’m looking for.’ I feel like I’m very much ‘Be water, my friend.’ I want my music to be able to adapt to anything that it touches. It can go from a dance floor to fashion to a movie — I’m never thinking of it in one specific space. I think it’s very arrogant and egotistical of me to dictate my work and say ‘it only belongs here.’”

The internet is a very big help, but I also think some things I was tapped into before I knew I was, as a kid. And so I think they come back into my memory now. I feel like some things were instilled, some things I grew up on or was introduced to at a young age. And the things that stick with me, I know they mean something. Those are things I need to explore more.

Percussion is always so wide open all the time. African drumming, Indian drumming, Taiko drumming… That goes back into the creation of infinite possibility. If you can see it in your mind, then you can create it. If you can hear it in your mind, then you can make it sonically. It might not come out exactly the way it sounded in your head, but if you can envision it, then you can absolutely create that space.

As someone who also navigates this space between the experimental/contemporary classical side of things and club music/DJ-ing, I’m curious how much you think about the setting and spaces your work takes place in. Are you already thinking or envisioning that in the creation process?

I never go in thinking ‘this is the space I’m looking for.’ I feel like I’m very much ‘Be water, my friend.’ I want my music to be able to adapt to anything that it touches. It can go from a dance floor to fashion to a movie — I’m never thinking of it in one specific space. I think it’s very arrogant and egotistical of me to dictate my work and say ‘it only belongs here.’

Is there anything you find challenging when you’re working on a new project?

Everything. Usually the fight is me. I go through periods where I dread working because the last piece may have taken so much out of me. Or if I’m in a season where the music is flowing and I’m having these great downloads of music or creative process, but then that’s over and I have to start again. Sometimes it’s just a matter of sitting down to create and you realize ‘Oh damn, that wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought.’ I was just making it harder than it was in my own head. I dread those moments. I’m sure you know what I mean.

Yeah. I think especially with commissions sometimes — it becomes ‘Oh, this is a job.’ It’s privileged and lucky, but it’s still work. And the idea of the music, your love, being work can be really frustrating to me.

Exactly. At the end of the day it is still a job. Your collaborators try to make it as easy as possible for you to have fun and do your thing. But in your mind you still know ‘I signed a contract! My management team negotiated this thing.’

But there's beauty in it. Rarely is it seamless. But when you get those moments, bask in them.

On the flipside, what do you feel like is the most rewarding part of getting to do this?

The most rewarding part is being vulnerable in front of people, and them being vulnerable with me. I don’t have an expectation for my audience. Something I’m learning is how to be present in the creation and the performance. The older I get, it’s becoming less easy.

Why do you think that is?

Because I’m more of a composer than I am a performer. I can perform, but composition has always been my first love. But I’m cool with that. I want people to see that I’m not in that performance space right now. A month from now, I may be way better.

I just want people to enjoy themselves. Don’t come in with any preconceived notion. Just enjoy it. Or if you don’t, that’s cool too. Feel how you feel!

Jlin / n! = 3!
With Daniel Bernard Romain, Leonardo Sandoval & musicians of the SPCO

Thu, Oct 2, 2025, 7:30 pm
Walker Art Center
Copresented by Liquid Music, Northrop, and the Walker Art Center
Produced by Liquid Music and Pomegranate Arts

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Yaz Lancaster is a NYC-based experimental artist and writer whose practice is grounded in queer, DIY, and liberatory frameworks. Their solo work includes performances with violin, voice, and electronics comprising songs, improvisations and composed music. Yaz also performs as death ambient and hardcore DJ duo project "medium." with gg200bpm. They are a freelance music/arts writer with work in I CARE IF YOU LISTEN, Musicworks, Which Sinfonia, among other publications. They are a member of NYC-based and communally-active PTP Vision artist collective; and the creator/curator of HEAVY HEARTS performance series celebrating the community and vulnerability in harsh/experimental sonics.

Follow Jlin:
Website: www.jlintheinnovator.com
Instagram: @jlin_p
Facebook: @jlintheinnovator

Follow Yaz Lancaster:
Website: www.yaz-lancaster.com
Instagram: @yeehawyaz

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