The thing about Derek Phillips is this: he’s one of those rare dudes who doesn’t just show up for the giig, he makes the goddamn thing matter. You want to talk about collaboration? Forget your MFA seminar bullshit. This is someone who walks into your half-baked idea and somehow finds the frequency you didn’t even know you were searching for. Innovative? Sure, if we’re still using that word before it’s been completely strip-mined by TED talks and LinkedIn gurus. But really what we’re talking about here is someone who listens to the space, to the silence, to what’s broken, and then does something about it.
He’s got that thing, you know it when you see it, that seasoned bartender energy. The kind of human who can read the room a half hour before closing time and know exactly what’s needed. One night he’s talking you down from whatever ledge you’ve climbed out onto, not with platitudes but with the real thing, that actual presence. Next night he’s the first one raising a glass because you scratched off a lottery ticket and won twenty bucks, treating it like you just bought the bar. Because in that moment, it is buying the bar. That’s the energy. That’s the presence.
You know he’s the real deal because look around, he’s working on everyone’s shows. Not because he’s hustling or networking or building his brand, but because when you’ve got something worth making, you want Derek Phillips in the room. Period. The composers know it. The performers know it. The spaces themselves seem to know it.
Some people chase innovation. Derek just makes the sound that needs to exist.
Derek Phillips is a composer and sound artist in San Francisco. His work has been performed at The Asian Art Museum, The De Young Museum, The Exit Theater, The Garage, Kunst-Stoff Arts, The Performance Art Institute (SF), Jack Arts (NY), Z/KU (Berlin), and Stanford University. He studied literature at UC San Diego.