“Where words stop, her music begins: the universe of Lotte Pen”

Today I’m speaking with Lotte Pen. Saxophonist, composer – and someone who slips just as effortlessly out of the classical straitjacket as she lovingly embraces it. She has performed in concert halls from Tokyo to New York, and from her hometown of Bussum to the OPIA festival curated by Ólafur Arnalds. Today, however, we’re not meeting in a grand concert hall, but online, with her little “box” in the background – the space where her music comes to life.

We talk about her new work, an alternative mass, about the balance between freedom and form, about searching for something universal within something deeply personal. And of course, about the saxophone, composing, walking, singing, and why not everything needs to be put into a box.

“Hi Lotte, so glad you could make time for this interview. Let me dive right in – what a luxury it must be to have a studio in your own home.”

“Yes, it really is quite fancy, isn’t it? That’s my ‘little box’, you know, where I have the freedom to study and record demos.”

“That’s definitely very cool,” I agree. “Most musicians would kill for a home studio like that.” As we get acquainted, I mention the Keihard Klassiek podcast she was on some time ago. “I was re-listening to that episode you were in, and it struck me that you’re pretty averse to putting things in boxes. Can you tell me more about that?”

“Well, I don’t think I’m cynical or anything,” she begins. “I just don’t find it very interesting to constantly classify music into genres or to have to explain the music through the stories behind it. To me, music deals with really fundamental things, and I think we too often focus on things that aren’t fundamental. To clarify: I believe music can express something that you don’t need words for. That’s also what makes it so hard to talk about music. Like I said, I don’t think I’m cynical about how we categorize everything into genres, but I do feel people make it too important for their musical experience. In my view, we should actually focus more on the notes themselves – really on the music – free from genre thinking.”

“In my view, we should place the focus more on the notes themselves – on the music itself – free from genre-driven thinking.”

Lotte adds: “Look, when you listen to my music, you’ll hear a story. But I believe it only truly becomes interesting when that story isn’t just my story, but when it becomes something universal—something other people can also relate to.”

“If we had to categorize your music, though—where would we even begin?”

With some hesitation, Lotte searches for the right words. “That’s hard to say, especially about your own music. Maybe other people should decide that,” she laughs. “But if I really had to slap a label on it, I’d say electronic neo-classical with a leading role for the saxophone.”

When people hear the term “neo-classical,” most tend to think of soft, piano-based music—but that’s far from the case here. Lotte is currently working on a new album—The Alt. Mass—for electronics, saxophone, and countertenor Sytse Buwalda.

“Something quite different,” I remark. “What led you to that choice, and what should I picture when I hear the term ‘alternative mass’?”

“First and foremost, I grew up with religion,” she explains, “and I still draw a lot of inspiration from it when I’m working on music or composing.”

“The (Catholic) mass has, for centuries, been a way of offering comfort and hope. But now, in 2025, I’m really curious what that mass still has to say. I ask myself questions like: ‘What would happen if you removed the Catholic mass from its Christian context? What if you kept only the texts—do they still resonate in my life?’ Then I ask myself those questions again, but this time I wonder: ‘Could these answers be something universal? Do these texts inspire others too? What does that sound like, and how would that sound today?’”

“The idea is to discover how I can translate that musically—and how it might inspire people.”

“I’m really curious about what the Catholic mass still has to say in the year 2025.”

Faith has traditionally brought people together. I ask her: “Do you think your alternative mass could bring people together in some way?”

“Of course, I’d love that if it happened during a concert,” she replies. “I was once asked why I actually make music. And the answer is that I have a deep belief that music can create connection. That, to me, is the most beautiful thing that can happen—that moment when you’re playing, you feel the energy from the audience, and there’s this shared sense that everyone is experiencing the same thing at the same time.”

I completely understand what she means. “That kind of moment when it no longer matters who or what you are, when opinions fall away, and we’re all just equal,” I say.

“Exactly that,” Lotte replies. “That sense of connection is something I find truly beautiful—and really the reason why I make music,” she says.

Interview continues below the video

“It reminds me of Pelgrim, the album you made earlier, and the walk you organized around it. Do you always want to present music as an experience?”

“It definitely contributes to that sense of connection we were just talking about. With Pelgrim, visitors had both an individual and a collective experience. At the start of the journey, everyone put on their headphones and listened to composed music of mine. Each person experienced it individually, but after every stage of the walk, there was a shared moment of reflection on what they’d just gone through. Because, after all, everyone had heard the same thing. And you know, walking is literally a way of getting into motion—but also a way of being reminded to pause sometimes. That reflection. That’s what made the format feel so tangible.”

“And the beautiful part is,” she adds, “the moment those headphones came off during the live concert, you could really see the connection between people. And they weren’t rid of me yet either, because I had them sing along and participate in the music. That’s also something I deeply believe in—that it brings people closer together.”

“We still so often try to reinvent the wheel, while inspiration is lying right there on the street”

From this conversation—where we continue briefly, touching on drone tones and Hildegard von Bingen—I’m already looking forward to joining her on a future walk. We shift the focus to her influences as a composer.

“I noticed—or at least it seemed—that your recent releases have a more religious undertone than your earlier work. As if you’ve been inspired by ancient music.”

“I just think we have such a rich tradition of music,” she replies. “We still so often try to reinvent the wheel, while inspiration is lying right there on the street. And yes, medieval music is really close to my heart. I love how things were written down, the imagery—but also the sacred and the mystical aspects, I just find them beautiful.” She continues:
“Look, a large part of my inspiration still comes from people like Josquin des Prez or Bach. But even in recent decades, there have been so many beautiful masses composed. Just think of Arvo Pärt, or Bernstein, for example.”

“Speaking of musical taste—I saw the playlist you curated in the email. You’ve got a seriously cool and diverse taste in music.”

“Thanks!” she laughs. “The funny thing about that playlist is that it only reflects my taste as a performing musician. As a composer and performer, I really draw a lot of inspiration from it. But if I were to expand it further, you’d find plenty of jazz, world music, artists like Nick Cave and a whole bunch of other things. Maybe less relevant to my own work, but still so lovely to listen to.”

By now I realize I’ve completely flipped the structure of the interview. From musical taste, we drift into her time at the conservatory, the church, revival songs, and how Lotte grew up musically. I’m curious to know when she realized she wanted to pursue music professionally.

“Was it clear early on that you wanted to become a musician or composer?”

“Yes, actually,” Lotte says. “I was just completely immersed in it, day and night. I never even considered doing anything else. I was in all kinds of bands, orchestras, quartets—I took lessons. Honestly, I wasn’t doing anything but music.”

“I used to think you had to study for twenty years before you were allowed to compose.”

“And were you already composing back then?”

“Funny you ask—I recently found my very first composition in an old box from my childhood home. It was called something like ijskoud winterlied, written when I was about eleven. But I wasn’t really into composing back then, and not even at the conservatory, since composition was actually a separate program. That kind of made me afraid to write my own music. I always thought you had to study for twenty years and have an ear like Nadia Boulanger to be able to compose. So I only started much later.”

That “later” came after Lotte had already travelled the world—and when a burnout suddenly put her life on hold. The urge to write music herself grew stronger.

“Did you already know what direction you wanted to take with your music?” I ask.

“Honestly, I had no clue. Except that I really enjoyed making music with Arjen van Wijk and my close friend Pim van de Werken. As we worked together, I slowly started to get more and more ideas about the direction I wanted to go with my own music. When my mother passed away, I felt this deep need to start composing. After her funeral, Pim offered to help me take that next step. And that was really the beginning of Tabernacle.”

“Let me quote from another interview,” it says: “Your new music also gave you a chance to break out of the classical mold you had placed yourself in.” “Did it feel like, if you hadn’t started composing, you’d have remained stuck in that classical framework?”

“Well now it sounds a bit dramatic,” she laughs, “as if I was locked in some sort of prison that I had to break free from.”She continues: “It’s not that I have any aversion to classical music—I still enjoy stepping into an orchestra now and then to play a beautiful solo. I just realized I needed a bit more space, which I’ve definitely carved out for myself. And now I feel that freedom: to continue working within that classical tradition, but also to create something of my own alongside it.”

And yet, your classical career was on the rise too. As we touched on earlier, you were performing on world-class stages—you were on track to become part of the next generation, so to speak. Don’t you ever feel like you’ve thrown something away?”

“No, definitely not. I honestly see the choices I’ve made as a blessing. I’m really happy with the freedom I have now, and with the work I’m doing. And in the end, I think I would’ve come to the same realization one way or another—that a life made up of only classical music would have been too one-dimensional for me.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, that there’s more to me than just playing the saxophone. For example, I retrained as a music educator, because I really believe that educational side of music is important too.”

Listen: Ambitus Choice by Lotte Pen

Since Lotte has to teach later today, we slowly begin wrapping up our conversation. I ask her what musical challenges she’d still like to take on in the future.

“What I’m doing now with this alternative mass—I already find that incredibly exciting, and it’s something I truly believe in. But eventually, I’d also love to create a kind of total experience. Something that doesn’t just tap into the mental, but also includes a physical element. Sorry, I probably sound like some kind of holistic hippie right now,” she laughs, “but I really believe that combining physical experience—movement, feeling, sensation—with intellectual or emotional depth can create something mystical. Something hard to grasp. I don’t know, it’s tough to explain… but just creating something truly cool that stimulates all your senses—that would be an amazing challenge for the future.”

“Okay, last question,” I call out. “What does success mean to you?”

“Well, first of all, I think success is when you create something and, hearing it back, you think: yes—this is exactly how it’s meant to be. That you know, deep down, you didn’t make any compromises in your work—and that people can connect with it.” She continues:
“It really goes back to where we started: the pursuit of a universal story that people can relate to. I think that would be the key that defines success for me.”

And with those last words, we say goodbye to Lotte—for now. I end our conversation with the thought that this interview was exactly what music also is: a meeting, an exchange in which boxes and genres momentarily cease to matter. A space where words inevitably fall short—because it’s in the wordless, the unnamed, where the deepest connection takes place.

And Lotte Pen understands this deeply. From her own little “box,” where she explores and transcends boundaries, her music becomes both personal and universal. I’m already looking forward to her alternative mass and, hopefully, the full sensory experience she dreams of creating. And who knows—maybe I’ll join her on the next musical walk she organizes.

Lotte Pen has reminded us of something essential today: Music goes beyond labels and genres. Music is connection.

Thank you, Lotte, for this inspiring conversation—and until next time.

The Alt. Mass – on tour