All clothing and accessories by AMIRI. — All clothing and accessories by **AMIRI**.

For a moment, the world shut down. days passed at a sedate pace, human interaction disintegrated, and even bustling city streets stood still—the sound of silence insulated a new, grim reality. From certain perspectives, though, we were handed an opportunity to strip away the unnecessary aspects of our lives, leaving us perhaps in our truest form. For Chicago-based musician, Sen Morimoto, this time alone reinforced his adoration for collaborating, creating, and performing.

Morimoto, an instrumentalist and jazz-rap artist who photographed in some of his favorite spots in Chicago, starting with music venue, The Hideout, embraced this concept of silence for his latest self-titled album. Migrating from his usual practice of layering instruments, he instead created space for each one to speak for themselves. The results see groovy arrangements coupled with intimate lyrics, a reminder that every lived experience is a testament to our perseverance—a new lesson learned, a character trait built.

“When I envision myself soaring to new heights,” remarks the artist, when asked about this issue’s overarching editorial theme of flight, “I see myself being at peace and knowing that I’m doing the best I can, not allowing unimportant worries or stresses or self-deprecating thoughts to stop me from just enjoying each day for what it is.” Despite this refreshing optimism for a world free of self-doubt, Morimoto shares that in the past he faced hesitation with certain lyrics, because they felt “unaware of the scope of the world.” On this album, though, he doesn’t judge himself for what he felt and determined to express in the moment, knowing these feelings were valid.

“I love that about now,” he says of the upended world, “It’s, like, the conventions and expectations, everything, is kind of out the window, so you might as well freak out and just see what happens.” Morimoto, now speaking from Lemmings, a billiard bar he loves on Damen Avenue, attests that the forced isolation encouraged creativity and experimentation. Collaboration, too, took on a different shape, where Zoom calls replaced studio time and notes were exchanged over email. As someone who is self-professedly open to relinquishing control, Morimoto used this unusual exchange to his advantage. “It’s actually easiest to just send it to someone and let them spaz out on it,” he says. “I end up with something that’s a lot freakier than maybe I would have guessed, which always excites me.”

Morimoto recognizes that everyone hears his music differently—some connect instrumentally, while others lyrically—and relishes in the fact that people will find their own narrative. “If I’m working with another vocalist,” he continues, as his photo shoot wraps at cult hamburger destination, Redhot Ranch, “or someone who’s going to be writing lyrics to the song, I usually don’t tell them what the lyrics are about. I’m so curious how they are going to interpret it and shift the meaning.”

The past year has seen extraordinary shifts of meaning, and Morimoto hopes that the fire ignited in the hearts of so many does not subside. Along with learning to be “more patient and confident with whatever path emerges,” Morimoto hopes the world doesn’t settle for improvement, but practices persistence. He is passionate about the collective voice of change that’s amassed over this past year, ranging from COVID response, to immigration, to Black Lives Matter. An active voice in Chicago, Morimoto utilizes his platform to address his concerns. “I worry that the general unrest is going to be satiated,” he says firmly. “I just hope that we stay angry. I really don’t want to lose that in the general mentality of the public, because there is so much that we began to open up last summer and throughout 2020. I really hope this year, people are still learning new things and finding out how they can be helpful to the many movements that need to keep pushing.”

It’s true that we must keep pushing. We must persevere through change, but most of all, we must get up each day to use our voice—our very own dawn chorus. As the long winter we have endured closes, a new season is upon us. For even after a storm, birds sing at dawn—and so shall we.

Photographer: Michaela Quan

Stylist: Nina Kallas

Lighting Tech: Phil Tang

Locations: The Hideout, Lemming’s, Redhot Ranch