Sae Heum Han, AKA mmph of Tri Angle Records, exists in a room full of mementos. Pinned upside down to his bedroom wall, a crimson rose holds onto its wilting petals in spite of gravity and time. The lone rose was a spontaneous birthday gift from a friend, but it later became an emblem of transformation after a family member became ill. Hanging above Han’s desk, colored yarn crisscrosses into the shape of a crucifix. The cross was a gift from his grandmother, but with no religious affiliation, it became a symbol of hope after a time of trauma.
The inverted rose eventually became the artwork for Han’s debut EP Dear God, and the crochet crucifix is now the artwork for his latest EP Serenade. Separated only by a few months, the two releases are not only bound together by time but also thematically. The rose and the cross, two mementos from a period of lamentation, inspires two EP’s that explore “love, loss, and hope”. However, whereas the prior is gripped by the traumas, the latter comes after the traumas are gripped.
Serenade revels in a newfound romanticism with five fervent songs. The instrumentation is vibrant and densely layers orchestral instruments with electronic sounds. The song structures are impulsive and find impassioned verses in unexpected moments. The EP is undaunted by emotions and unabashedly relies on theatrics. It is an embrace of melodrama for its performativity.
Serenade belies modern electronic tracks. Melancholic moments patiently unfold, but climatic releases are fleeting. As soon as the listener can readjust to a certain melody or pattern, a surge of new ideas carries the song into unexpected spaces. “Minuet” bewilders with such an onslaught of startling transitions. The unrelenting dance undulates from brittle guitar chords, heartful plucked strings, to brash modulated synth lines. Even sprinkled with static flickers and a litany of percussive patters, the shapeshifting prance fills its sonic canvas to the fullest.
Similarly, “Woodlawn” boasts Han’s ability to balance chaos. Throughout each section, glitched drums scatter into the atmosphere, filling any gaps left by the leading instruments. The plucked string progression is covered with thrashing, syncopated cymbals; the modulated synth line is underlined with bouncing, aquatic squeaks and kicks. Yet, the wave of sounds never drowns out its delicate melodies. The sheer amount of detail never takes away from each of its brief melodic memories.
To close Serenade, the title track solidifies Han’s ability to make sense of disarray. Its beginning alone provides multiple moments of melodious ecstasy. Filled with suspenseful swells and romantic guitar solos, its intro declares a grandiose end the EP. Indeed, this lure is warranted as the song builds to a thunderous climax. Its orchestral synths and operatic vocals stagger into a pounding stampede, while its cymbals and kicks hammer away. Each therapeutic crash unleashes streams of anxieties, releasing frenetic energy in the most romantic performance.
Afterward, the title track comes to an ambient close, directing its scattered path into a cathartic resolve. Han is able to navigate the uncertainty and uncover beauty in the end—the same uncertainty that consumed Dear God. In this way, Serenade accepts that “love, loss, and hope” are inextricably intertwined, just as the green, blue, and white yarn are bound together above Han’s desk. So, its music rediscovers romanticism, but it does so without repressing the traumas that took it away in the first place. It is a nuanced romance that allows life after a personal tragedy.