exclusive interview

Hip-hop artist Harry Park, known by the stage name pH-1, gave HiphopKR a very special opportunity. In this in-depth interview, he opened up to us about his faith, his music, and his thoughts on the state of hip-hop in Korea. His honesty was truly a revelation.

Greetings are simple and cordial. We first inquire about the trip in from Korea. pH-1 and his manager are in for the H1GHR MUSIC showcase that takes place later that night at the Main, then on their way back to Korea straight after. Of course we talk about the food, a popular topic for artists when they get to Austin. While our conversation begins on a traditional trajectory, as we continue there’s an ease between all of us, a sort of natural camaraderie that allows us to dig past the popular rapper pH-1 and delve into the character of one Harry Park.

“I’m pH-1, I’m a rapper, an artist with H1GHR MUSIC, based in South Korea right now.” He delivers all this much in the way one does when he’s not quite sure what to say about himself. With a brief chuckle and a quip about how strange it is to talk about himself in the third person, he continues. “I’m from New York. And I consider myself more American than I am Korean.” This, of course, is the heart of the matter. Many artists of the Korean diaspora seem to share this sentiment.

Park and his family moved to the States when he was only about twelve years old. Having spent his formative years here, it’s no surprise that he feels a closer sense of identity to that part of his childhood. However, Park is a very proud man: proud of his upbringing, proud of his faith, proud of his heritage. He splits his time lyrically between English and Korean. As such he understands the struggle of international fans who are just as dedicated to his music as he is.

“I do appreciate all types of fans in general, but I really appreciate the international ones ’cause I know that there’s definitely a language barrier when they listen to our music, or any K-pop music in general. They don’t understand half of the time, or the majority of the time they have to look up translations, and I know how hard that can be. But they’re still willing to show support, follow you, and come to shows and stuff like that. I think that’s a very good sign of dedication and love. I appreciate that.”

As someone who has seen the many sides of the music industry as both an American and a Korean, Park has a wisdom about the subject that, while not surprising, is certainly interesting in its scope. He willingly admits that he had his share of trials trying to find his place in the States, a common experience shared among those coming from a different country to one that isn’t shy about its prejudices against “outsiders.” This is a country skilled in the great art of “othering,” placing those who differ from the understood “norm” in categories based on their supposed deficiency.

But Park is nothing if not pragmatic. He sees differences in audience reactions and tastes for what they are and is able to intellectually parse out what they mean in the grander scheme of his music and music in general.

“I think–and I don’t mean this in any way offensive–I do see some differences. I think the Korean audience cares more about the artist as a person. I mean, they have to like the artist as a good human being first, who doesn’t do anything wrong, who doesn’t say anything that could be a controversy, you know what I mean? And they have to look good. So I think that loving that artist as a person comes before loving their artistry.”

An astute observation made without any heat. His eyes are steady, but they turn skyward as he searches for the words to untwist the knot of his intellect. He turns that same assessing eye to what he considers his home country. “In the States, it’s the opposite. Even if you might be an asshole, even if you might be considered a ‘bad guy’ or whatever, people will still listen to you if your music is good. Even though they might not like you as a person, if your music is good you’ll still sell.”

That being said, Park doesn’t shy away from the reality that behind the overt idolization of artists, the price one pays is the inability to be oneself under the hard stare of a very scrupulous public. “In Korea if you’re a bad person or if you’re considered a controversial person they’ll ban your music, or more like, they’ll boycott your music.” He goes on to clarify, “I’m not saying I wanna do this and I wanna commit a crime … I’m just saying, because of that I’m more cautious about my actions, more than I’m concentrating on my music because me doing my music isn’t automatic. Before, I never had to be cautious about what I say or stuff like that, when I was living in New York. And I think whereas now, I’m always careful about what I say on my Instagram, Twitter, Facebook.”

Granted, Park isn’t exactly what you’d call a controversial figure. “I’m a very mild person with a very mild personality, so I wouldn’t really write anything controversial in general. So it hasn’t been a problem for me.” But he understands that it really can cause issues with those who are just trying to make a name for themselves in an ever-growing industry. “While I do see my friends’–who are also coming from the States–side, they have a very strong personality and would say things that are in their head without filtering, and that would get them in trouble by the netizens, the Korean audiences.”

Let’s not forget, however, pH-1 is a hip-hop artist. The genre has certainly seen a huge swell of popularity in the last few years in Korea, but the consumption of the genre comes in direct conflict with a society that is still very much conservative and incredibly staunch in its core values. “I think hip-hop is all about freedom of speech. Freedom of speech is a huge part of the American culture and is the basis of the social society. But in Korea that’s not really the case. You have to always say the right thing, say what pleases the crowd. I know me saying this might be a controversy.”

Park is very open about his thoughts on that very strange dichotomy. “It’s very hard for artists to really speak their minds that the majority of the Korean people might not agree with, you see what I’m saying? I feel like that’s what makes the lyrical content of Korean hip-hop very narrow, as in, we only have so many things that we talk about now without getting in trouble. But if you wanna talk about other controversial stuff, you have to expect the backlashing.”

One certainly has to cultivate a thick skin to make their art in Korea, as they would in the States, honestly. However, the necessity for that outer armor takes on a different shade.

“Well, like I said,” Park begins, “it hasn’t been a problem for me personally, because I wouldn’t write stuff like that, even if I was living in the States. But I do see people around me having a hard time with that, the culture differences. And I think it has its ups and downs. I think people in Korea are generally more aware of the moral conduct, of what is right and wrong. But I think that might suffocate some artists in Korea who might have very strong opinions but they can’t due to what might come back to them. I think that is the biggest challenge for artists in Korea, especially for those that are from the States.”

It does make one wonder why. Knowing the hardships of outspoken artists, why would a rapper choose to make music in Korea? Though he admits that the endgame is moving out of the Korean market to showcase his music Stateside, he acknowledges a very profound truth:

“As an Asian-American person who also speaks Korean, or writes in Korean and English, it’s not easy. It’s not easy to make a living in the States. So I think that was the main reason, the biggest reason.” It’s not something many artists readily admit. But as we find out, Park isn’t afraid from the truth. He invites it, accepts it, and grows from it.

“I always wrote both Korean and English,” he continues. “I think this goes back to having this identity crisis when I first moved to the States. To the Korean-American people I was considered to be American. They’re like, ‘You’re too American. You always speak English.’ But to the actual American people: ‘Oh you’re too Korean.’ I write both in Korean and English, like almost half-half, like 60-40 Korean and English. So Korean people consider my music to be a little more American. They’re like, ‘Oh, you put too much English. We don’t understand what you’re saying.’ But at the same time I think the American fans kinda appreciate that. ’Cause they’re now able to understand 40 percent of the music.

“But if I were to actually release my music in America, it’s too Korean. I actually talk in Korean, you know what I mean? I sing in Korean. So I’m trying to find … I’m trying to figure out my next step as an artist. I’m definitely still gonna stay on my grind in Korea, make my name bigger, but my end goal is to move out of Korea and do it even bigger in the States.”

Especially in a genre like hip-hop, authenticity is key to any sort of crossover success. There have been multiple Korean artists who’ve tried to crack the market in the States. All of them, save for the juggernaut that is BTS, have fallen flat. The worst thing an artist can do is try to mold themselves into some caricature of what they think a Western audience is going to relate to. Coming from New York, much like Park has, he’d be eaten alive before he got his first 16-count out of his mouth.

“I mean, that’s the main core of hip-hop: staying true to yourself. That’s the thing about me not trying to put profanity or any type of stuff like that. I’m not saying it’s bad if you do. If you actually say profanity, then write it. If that’s your lifestyle, you should write it, be true to yourself. But in real life I’m not that type of person so it wouldn’t fit if I did. I’m all about being true to who I am. I am geeky. I like anime, I like technology, stuff like that. I might talk about that in my songs, you know. That’s all about who I am.”

What seems to be the pervasive understanding of a lot of newer hip-hop artists in Korea is that a bit of imitation goes a long way in selling your authenticity. It’s an unfortunate by-product of creating music from a culture you know very little about. “I wish a lot of Korean rappers understood that, because right now, it seems to me that a lot of them don’t. They have this mentality where you have to look a certain way, you have to have this type of swag, you know what I mean? They have set rules. But I feel like the definition of ‘swag’ is somebody being real and being true to himself. I feel like geeky guys can have swag in their own way.

“But [in Korea], everybody’s trying to look real cool, in a certain way, which, off-camera, they’re a different person. Like, ‘Annyeonghaseyo!’ [formal/polite gesture of saying hello in Korean]” Park’s posture changes, and he dons the polite demeanor of someone greeting one of their elders to make his point. “And then on camera: ‘Wassup?’” Again, his demeanor changes to mock the sudden affectation of a culture completely contrary to their own. “I’m like, ‘You serious?’ Those things I don’t like.”

Andrew notes that these ministrations are heightened when one actually goes to Korea. “Oh yeah, of course,” Park emphatically agrees. “I talk about this with my friends all the time, but I feel like it’s something that’s inevitable. Korean culture is very polite, it’s all about being respectful. That’s why, when you’re not on camera, being respectful and polite is embedded in their background, their upbringing. So they can’t really help …. I’m not telling people not to be like”–he prostrates himself over the table in a mock bow–“polite. But your artist presence and your actual personality should be somewhat similar. They can’t be two different things.”

However, Andrew brings up a good point. The general public in Korea is growing rapidly in terms of its social consciousness and its acceptance of ideals that may have been considered controversial in the past. Park agrees.

“It’s gonna take some time, but definitely, I do see small changes here and there, and I do see people opening up a little bit more. But since it’s so deeply rooted in the Korean culture and its history, it’s not gonna change over a short period of time. But I do definitely see a change here and there, little by little. And hopefully within the next five or ten years we’ll be in a country where all the artists can just speak their mind without having to worry about what other people might say or having to worry about losing their career. Because that’s how it is in Korea … you might lose your career if you say one thing wrong, they’re gonna boycott you forever. Or you’d get a horrible album review because of something you said five years ago.”

This isn’t surprising, if one really considers the roots of hip-hop. Korea took to the genre in about the early ’90s. If we think of the general history of black music in the States, it takes a bit for “mainstream society” to not only accept but adopt what may be considered a source of youthful corruption (jazz, hip-hop, etc.) as a rich and integral part of society at large.

Thus hip-hop’s track in Korea. “Hip-hop in Korea has been there for some time,” Park says, “but it really started booming maybe two or three years ago? So it’s still kind of new. And I feel like we’re kind of following in the footsteps of American hip-hop. Like you said in the beginning, when hip-hop first started growing in the States, there were people banning it, or saying bad things about the rappers. I feel like that’s kinda happening now in Korea. And hopefully over time, in the next five, ten years, it’ll be okay. Korean culture tends to follow the American culture, or it looks up to the Western culture, I feel like. So I think people are getting more liberal, their mindset, open-minded. So I feel like it won’t be this big of a problem in the future hopefully.”

Park’s role in that upward trend of social and intellectual openness is significant. As he said, he’s mild-mannered by nature. He’s not prone to go off on profane tangents or wild flights of machismo. But his mind for the world around him and his unwavering honesty does buck the trend in a society that from an outsider’s perspective is very much about saving face in public.

Optimism shades Andrew’s voice as he expresses his belief that hip-hop artists like pH-1 have opened avenues for future artists to make their music without feeling beholden to the boundaries that can constrict creative expression in South Korea. “I think in that sense a lot of the Korean hip-hop artists that were raised in North America have that mentality that music comes first,” he says. “They wanna make sure it’s not based on what society wants but what you want to communicate. And that speaks volumes with your messages too.”

Hip-hop has its own set of moral constraints. In my conversation with Albert, we talked at length about the supposed gender roles that the societal microcosm of hip-hop places on artists. This idea of masculinity and how it’s supposed to be expressed is another burden that has slowly started to lift as the understanding and acceptance of what it means to be feminine and masculine has shifted. This struggle to define one’s self oftentimes works itself out in the artist’s music. Park found his start as a singer-songwriter, his musical foundation coming from less aggressive fare. But it all stems from the understanding that rap has a very set definition.

“When I first started rapping, I used to think a rapper shouldn’t be able to sing, or a rapper should not sing. This is because [at the time] I felt like it was not like macho, or whatever. Hip-hop, especially in the States, is all that macho culture. I would purposely sing horribly, just to make it seem like I’m bad at singing. But now, I have a different mindset where, ‘Hey, I have this talent of being able to sing and write top lines and compose. Why don’t I use that? Don’t let it go to waste,’ you know what I mean? Currently, I’m putting more songwriting in my music-making process, and I’m trying to incorporate more singing into my songs now. I can’t sing like all the R&B singers, but I know I can sing.”

Just as Albert, Park has found that balance, found that all his skills are viable in hip-hop, that hip-hop, now more than ever, has expanded to accommodate every means of expression. “I’m definitely gonna incorporate all my talent into my music, show them that I’m capable of rapping, singing, whatever it may be, you know.”

Park has even lent his songwriting talents to other artists, a fact that not many artists actually admit to. “Well, not for other underground rappers, ’cause their supposed to write their own,” he says with a smirk. “But more like idols and stuff like that. I don’t do it regularly,” he continues. “But I do get some requests sometimes, and I do it for them.”

It’s always interesting to note the transition, when an artist goes from lighter pop fare to the edge of hip-hop. Park notes that his own evolution might have come just as mainstream hip-hop was going through a transformation in terms of their own social norms. ”I feel like that transition happened because of how American hip-hop transitioned from just straight-up rapping to kind of like sing-rapping. Big credits to Drake. I think he started singing is cool now, you know what I mean? After Drake there was a bunch of rappers who started singing. So seeing that movement I was like, ‘Hey, it’s okay to sing.’ It’s okay to sing, and as long as the music sounds good, it’s all good. I threw away that mentality where hip-hop has to be macho, hip-hop has to be masculine, has to be aggressive.”

It’s also fitting, then, that Park draws inspiration from a wide range of musical genres: jazz, pop, R&B. The most interesting of these is gospel music. Another artist we got the chance to chat with during SXSW, Uzuhan, has this in common with pH-1.

“Well, personally, I am a Christian,” he says. “So I always have been exposed to Christian music in general. I’m a huge fan of Kirk Franklin, I love his music. Something about gospel music is very different from other Christian music, or any other music. It has so much soul, but at the same time, musically, it’s very well-composed. All the harmonies and the chorus, it’s beautiful to me, to my standards, so I try to incorporate that in my music.” While he doesn’t limit himself to gospel music’s trends, there’s something about the structure of the genre that calls to him. “I’m not saying I’m always gonna have gospel-based beats, but even when I’m making some other poppy music or hip-hop, I try to incorporate a lot of chorus in the background, a lot of harmonies here and there, because that’s what I learned from listening to gospel or any other gospel-related genres, like Neo Soul too.

“I feel like not many Korean artists are doing that. I could probably say the majority of the Korean rappers are all about just rapping. Or just writing the verse, and that’s it. And have somebody on the feature write the hook or whatever. But I always try to think of it as not just a rap song but a piece of art, a piece of music. I consider myself a composer, too, and I arrange my own music, I arrange my own harmonies and choruses and back vocals. I do all that on my own, so I feel like people who know how to appreciate that will recognize that part of my music.”

His progression is noteworthy, comparable, I think, to another rapper who found his soul in gospel music: Chance the Rapper. Just watching the trajectory of his career, beginning with “10 Day,” leading into the triumph that was “Acid Rap,” then to his most recent full-length work, “Coloring Book,” a piece of music rooted in the church, one can see how his lyricism took a very hard shift in focus. I wonder if that’s a path Park sees himself walking.

“Well, see, that’s the thing,” Park says. “I’m a Christian, and I do want to put out there my faith in Jesus Christ. But at the same time, I’m not trying to make music that only talks about that. My music is still mainly focused on what I see, my observations on life, my relationships with people, or what I notice about little things or whatever. But when I’m writing those things I’m gonna put here and there hints of my faith. So that it’s naturally and organically infused into the lyrics. Without me having to say, ‘Oh I believe in Jesus, you should too! If you don’t, you’re gonna go to hell!’ I feel like that, especially in Korea, is very … People might feel very repulsed by that.

“I guess my strategy is to approach people in a more organic and natural way so they start being curious about what I believe in, instead of me having to tell them, ‘Hey, this is what I believe in.’ Which is fine. I’m not saying that’s wrong, but I’m just saying that my strategy is to have people [think], ‘Oh, why is he not cursing in his music? Why is he not talking about sleeping with girls? Doing drugs, why is he not doing that? Who is this Christ that he’s referring to? Who is this Father that he’s referring to here and there in his music?’ I want them to be curious. And I feel like in interviews like this I can explain that this is the reason why I do that. Because I’m Christian. And I believe me coming to Korea and getting signed to H1GHR MUSIC within the first three months, that’s such a short time, I had no connections at all. I don’t think that’s because I was good or anything. I believe that’s God working. So I made a promise to Him that I wouldn’t talk about girls, sex, drugs, you know what I mean?”

This is what fascinates me about pH-1 the artist, what endears him to me so much. His conviction is so strong, his faith is so resolute. There are very few artists so confident in their faith and in their belief system that they’d speak about it with such openness. But Harry Park is a unique individual. Not because he tells the truth. But because he tells his truth without fear. Interestingly enough, this musical direction was a long time coming for him.

“I’m telling you,” he says, “when I first started writing, I was all aggressive rapping, I used to like, ‘Ay wassup, I’m the man, yo!’ That was the only thing I did, but I changed over time. I grew as a person, as an artist. I’m trying to find my own flavor, own color, my musicality. Which I believe I’m doing pretty well.”

Fans won’t have to wait long to see just how much Park has developed his craft. Due for release this summer, his next project is sure to explore all the work and growth he’s put into his sound.

“It’s gonna have around ten tracks, so it could be either [an EP or LP].” While he can’t exactly reveal too much, he does inform us that he’ll be working exclusively with producer Thurxday.” I did that on purpose,” he says. “Just to have my album have a very cohesive sound, all throughout. Him and I have a very good chemistry. He’s the one who produced ‘Donuts’ too.”

When Park was recruited to the H1GHR MUSIC family in late 2017, it definitely allowed him room to develop as an artist in ways that he couldn’t have imagined. With the support of the producers, artists, and CEO Jay Park, he found himself in the midst of a veritable mecca of musical creativity and ambition.

“Ever since I’ve signed with H1GHR MUSIC, I think I grew the fastest as an artist. Because now I have access to a lot of great producers who have different taste[s] in music, different styles, so they have a lot to offer to me. And I’m like, ‘Oh, this is a style I’ve never tried before.’ But I’m able to now explore that part with Thurxday, with GroovyRoom, with WOOGIE. They’re all different.

“Jay, Sik-K, GroovyRoom, WOOGIE, Thurxday, especially Sik-K and Jay. They’re the hardest workers I’ve ever seen. And they put out music like every day, every week. So that kind of motivates me to work harder on my craft. I’m a fast writer, but at the same time, compared to them I feel like I’m kinda lazy and slow,” he says, a rueful chuckle behind the words. “I’m like, ‘Man, I need to push myself.’ But it’s a good type of pressure. So there’s a good synergy going on. I definitely admire all these people as friends, but as artists too. So I grew a lot when I was in H1GHR MUSIC.”

It’s clear that working around a group of like minds has made Park’s creativity blossom. His latest EP, “Gatsby,” is a genuinely smart piece of music. Using the conceit of the F. Scott Fitzgerald classic, Park’s album unfolds as the narrative of the story (and subsequent Baz Luhrman reimagining).

“If you listen to Gatsby, the first track is called ‘Penthouse,’ and it starts off by this elevator music that plays. You’re on an elevator going up to that penthouse. And that elevator music is the last track of my previous album, ‘The Island Kid.’ So it’s an extension of ‘The Island Kid’ album. If ‘The Island Kid’ was talking about my dream of becoming a rapper in 2015 and then ending it with me actually becoming a rapper and signed to H1GHR MUSIC, now what happened after that, that’s what I’m talking about in ‘Gatsby.’

“I was watching The Great Gatsby movie and I was like, ‘Holy cow, this is me!’ When I’m looking at Gatsby: He achieved his dreams, he got everything he wanted for a long time, but he’s still looking out the window waiting for something. And he’s not happy. He’s throwing all these parties, but he’s still waiting for that one thing that he doesn’t even know what it is. And I’m like, ‘Damn, that fits perfectly.’ So that’s why it became the motif for my EP.”

That spark, that creative energy bubbles and overflows when he speaks of his music. His passion never dims throughout our conversation, but there’s genuine … happiness when he begins to talk about his music, about his process, his vision. Gatsby was very obviously a semi-autobiographical look at Park trying to navigate the isolation of being a Korean-American rapper in Korea.

“‘Penthouse’ is this guy who has been working so hard to get to this penthouse, and now he got it. So he’s filling it with girls, throwing parties, putting up all these designer paintings, whatever, but he’s still missing something. And that was me coming to Korea and achieving the dream that I’ve always dreamt of: becoming a rapper. But now that I’m actually signed, there are things that I was like, ‘Oh, this is not what I thought it would be.’ You know what I mean? The little differences of my ideal and the reality. Me being alone in Korea, away from my family and my friends. That fit perfectly. Both ‘The Island Kid’ and ‘Gatsby’ are a shoutout to my whole family in Long Island. Gatsby, the novel, actually takes place in Long Island, too, so it kinda worked out perfectly.”

This kind of cerebral approach to his music is nothing new. His inspirations stretch beyond the realm of music. “Literature or movies. Or anime. I guess I’m inspired by characters and their personalities and backgrounds. Sometimes I like to put myself in their shoes. If I feel any resemblance, I might rap about that.”

It’s not a common approach to constructing an album, building it around a specific piece of literature. But, as Park reiterates throughout our talk, he’s an artist. As such, his job, his motivation, is to create art.

“I do hope that a lot of other artists do what I did with Gatsby, I don’t know if I’m always gonna be able to craft like a perfect artist. I’m gonna try. But I do wish that people don’t just make a song just to make money off of it and make it sound catchy. Which is cool. You should make catchy songs sometimes, but at the end of the day we are artists. And if you consider yourself an artist, then make art instead of just something that will just come and go like this”–he snaps his fingers to articulate the fickle nature of fame.

As Andrew points out, there’s a noticeable difference between a piece of music like Kendrick Lamar’s immortal classic “To Pimp a Butterfly,” and something like the instant virality of Big Shaq’s “Mans Not Hot.” What Park wants to achieve is art that endures, not something that’s here today and gone with the next meme.

“Because it’s only relevant to 2017 or ’18. Or really, this summer, you know what I mean? Next summer we’ll have another viral song. So people are gonna forget about ‘Man’s Not Hot.’ Who’s now talking about viral songs from 2014? Nobody, we all forgot. But if you make a classic or if you make a song that’s meaningful, then people are willing to go back and listen to it.”

This brings us back full circle. Harry Park is a man who knows his mind, has strong convictions and beliefs, and who’s fearlessly honest and himself. But even through all that, he openly admits to still growing, still learning about himself and trying to discover his unique musical color. Andrew asks a question that every artist must confront at some point in their careers:

“What kind of artist do you want to be? If people hear your name, what do you want them to think?”

Park takes a moment to reflect, to think back on his work, his growth, his artistry. Though it takes him a moment, he speaks clearly and again lacking in any sort of reluctance. “An artist that’s not afraid to be different from the mainstream,” he says, voice solid and unwavering. “An artist making music that makes [listeners] feel certain emotions, hopefully positive emotions.

“I guess my main goal as an artist is always be an artist, as I said. Be genuine to my own life, and when I write my music my intention is to convey some sort of emotion. And the best-case scenario is that when you listen to my music you feel the same emotion that I felt when I was writing it. That’s my goal: to be very transparent about me as a person, me as an artist. My emotions should speak to them instead of me trying to fabricate some kind of story just to make me look cool.”

The great part about a goodbye is that there’s always hope attached to it. With his effervescent positivity, Park leaves us with a few words for his fans and all the readers:

“I definitely, definitely wanna say thank you for following me and following HiphopKR, ’cause Korean hip-hop and Korean music in general … I know how hard it is to not understand the language but still appreciate the music. I really appreciate that, and I’m definitely gonna try my best to keep in contact and keep in good communication with you guys just to show you how much I appreciate you. Please stay on the lookout for what H1GHR MUSIC’s got in store, and also my upcoming album.”

“Coming out this summer.” Andrew supplies.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BkT6KSMF5Nd/?taken-by=ph1boyyy

“Yeah. So please, please, subscribe or follow HiphopKR! Thanks.” With a chuckle, a hug, and a handshake we end our interview.

Harry Park is a very intriguing young man. There’s so much of him inside his stage persona, it’s hard to separate the two personalities. But that’s his whole point: be honest, be true, be an artist. And as an artist, pH-1 is most certainly a man to watch and admire.

Addendum: pH-1’s self titled digital single “harry” is now available worldwide. Click here for more information.

 

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Interview conducted by Andrew, Cy
Written by Cy
Edited by Andrew, Lena