Violinist Shaina Pan currently lives in New York’s Hudson Valley, performing with The Orchestra Now. Shaina holds degrees in Violin Performance and English from Indiana University, and recently completed graduate studies at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. An advocate for music by living composers, Shaina has premiered dozens of new works across the US, working with artists such as Kate Soper, Augusta Read Thomas, Ken Ueno, Terry Riley, and the Kronos Quartet, among others. She has performed with the IU New Music Ensemble, Atlantic Music Festival Contemporary Ensemble, San Francisco Contemporary Music Players, and the Lucerne Festival Academy.

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In the Refuge of a Cave:
Before there were bunkers, fortresses, or strongholds, there were caves. Since long before the dawn of recorded history, caves have held a universal significance as a source of refuge—a safe haven from the elements, predators, and natural disasters. Inversely, however, caves have widely been known to inspire a sense of apprehension and foreboding as well—potentially harboring in the darkness the very dangers from which they are meant to offer protection.
Writing these program notes in late July of 2020, I can't help but compare the duality of caves to the tremendous changes that have taken place during the last six months. The Pandemic has forced just about everyone to reinvent their lives in order to preserve their safety and security. Whether metaphorically or analogously, we have all retreated to our caves in one way or another. For example, while many of us have achieved refuge through social distancing and sheltering-in-place, doing so has forced us to face the existential darkness of isolation and confinement.
In the Refuge of a Cave (2020) is my perspective on these themes as a composer and musician. What musical artists could once rely upon—concert spaces, audiences, even the ability to perform onstage together—has disappeared or drastically transformed in mere days. Now, one's own insights, abilities, and resources are the only certainties in their musical endeavors. When writing In the Refuge of a Cave, I imagined these restrictions as a literal cave surrounding the musical artist. What could a musician do to create music if they were isolated within a cave? How could one find artistic fulfillment in such a lonely and remote place? The only natural answer is that a musician would need to make do with the sonic resources and tools that the space granted them. The musician would utilize the reverberations and echoes generated by the cave's walls; in doing so, they would stumble upon a way to play music with another—a past version of theirself—an echo.
In the Refuge of a Cave is dedicated to my many friends and colleagues who have found themselves forced to navigate a unique cave of their own in these challenging times. Thus, it is designed to be playable by any instrument or voice type, and no two performances will ever sound alike.