David Bird’s office contains shelves of vintage synthesizers, electronic drum pads, cables, speakers, microphones, and headphones alongside academic books and a clock repurposed from an old VCR that sometimes works.
But the most essential tool in the room is the computer on Bird’s desk — that’s where the magic happens.
An assistant professor in Notre Dame’s Department of Music, Bird specializes in music technology and digital media. So while the equipment in his half-office, half-tech room brings his music into the world, the computer is his real instrument.
With each piece, he pushes the boundaries of musical performance with the aid of digital tools.
“I’m trying to convey a more detailed, personalized, thoughtful engagement with technology,” he said.
Many of Bird’s compositions explore the relationship between humans and technology, often through musicians interacting with novel technological systems on stage.
“To be the ‘electronic music person’ at Notre Dame is a real honor, and it’s always exciting.”
In his piece “Decoder,” three performers play MIDI drum pads, following a musical score written by Bird, while sitting side by side on a dark stage behind holographic projections. At first glance, each performer independently and uniformly creates their part of the music, with the expectation that, if they play their notes perfectly, every performance will present the same polished piece.
But with Bird’s technology in the mix, that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s coded the setup so that every note is randomized, producing a different sound with each performance. The performers can also influence each other’s music, though that’s also out of their control.
“One person’s impulse might trigger a glitch sound, or it might turn on or off or change the sound of another performer,” Bird said. “And because none of them are ever looking at each other, they never fully know what is happening.”
This illustrates the “strange, sometimes insidious” ways people are connected to each other through technology, he said. Using technology can feel private and individualized, but in reality, everyone is both influencing and being influenced by others, creating a dynamic that is difficult to predict or control.
Like all of his music, “Decoder” is both personal and purposeful: a space for Bird to examine his own thoughts while also pushing listeners to reconsider how they interact with technology.
“I want to encourage people to be creative with technology because so much work with technology is often just rehashing the same stuff,” Bird said. “I also want people to, in a bigger way, be critical about their relationship with technology — to not just accept what’s given to them.”
Finding his niche
Back in grade school, Bird was less into abstract depictions of complex modern issues and more into skateboarding. He just wasn’t very good at it.
So instead of hitting the half-pipe, Bird hit “record” on his camera.
Filming and editing skateboarding videos and other DIY video projects became Bird’s passion — and the place where he first began to appreciate the power of music.
“I found that I really liked putting music to these videos,” he said. “There was so much expressive potential, and I started wanting to compose music for different environments — movie scenes in my head or other audiovisual projects.”
Bird started spending his free time in his parents’ at-home graphic design studio, where he could use their office computers to multitrack his compositions. He moved from skateboard video soundtracks to his own concept albums, with folders full of experimentation in between.
“Every project has pushed my practice further in different ways,” Bird said. “What I’m proud of is the accumulation of skills and practices that has brought me into an area where I’m able to do something that’s really unique.”
An example of this expanded practice is Bird’s integration of light into his music. He treats light as an instrument or as a member of the ensemble. He began with strobe lights in his piece “Drop,” in which lights are timed to flash in the dark alongside the music of a string octet.
Later, he explored the combination of light and sound in “Dark Ethnography” by modifying flashlights to trigger musical sounds. Written for the Switzerland-based Ensemble Vortex, the piece features four performers using flashlights in a semi-improvised, semi-choreographed performance with one cellist.
“To morph that into something that felt really personalized and expressive and poetic in its own way — that felt like a big achievement for me,” he said.
Creating spaces for expression
While he’s always enjoyed creating music, it took Bird a while to find out how much he loves teaching.
Wary of public speaking, Bird did not initially imagine a career in teaching, instead gravitating toward more behind-the-scenes work in film scoring or music production. But helping peers with their creative projects and eventually leading technical workshops transformed his perspective. It was life-changing.
“I got the confidence and fulfillment of seeing students engage with something — seeing the synapses click,” he said.
Now Bird gets to watch students engage with electronic music — often for their first time — while teaching Introduction to Electronic Music and Music Production.
Unlike many music classes, the course covers both composition and production, using electronic instruments while also exploring the history of the medium. Bird has students exercise the skills they learn in class with creative projects, like a remix song using public domain material or sound design for movie scenes he’s stripped of their original soundtracks.
Last year, the class collaborated with the Raclin Murphy Museum of Art for another project that paired each student with a sculpture in the Hayes Family Sculpture Park. The students composed and produced electronic music pieces inspired by their assigned sculptures, and Bird put them into a soundwalk app so visitors could listen to the students’ work while walking through the park.
“It’s really important for me to create environments where the students can challenge themselves and explore different ways of expressing their ideas,” he said.
Last semester, Bird started teaching a more advanced class, Computer Music Programming, that focuses on constructing complex electronic music systems, similar to what he creates for pieces like “Decoder” and “Dark Ethnography.” He teaches students how to build drum machines, algorithmic pitch generators, synthesizers, and other electronic instruments that they can customize to fit their individual creative visions.
As part of the lecture series Sonifying the Body: Embodied Technologies in Electronic Music Performance, supported by a large grant from the Franco Family Institute for Liberal Arts and the Public Good, the Computer Music Programming class had the opportunity to learn from Beyond This Point, a Chicago-based percussion ensemble that integrates electronic music, lighting, and improvisation into their performances.
Beyond This Point led a hands-on workshop revealing the software behind their electronic music systems — from musical bubble wrap and strobe lights triggered by drum pads to lamps that shape and manipulate sound. Students watched and listened to the ensemble perform on these systems, then had the chance to try them out themselves.
For Bird, the workshop was a way to show students the exciting potential of their art and push them to try new techniques. Seeing students chase their curiosity reminds him why he loves his field and why he’s committed to cultivating an electronic music space at Notre Dame.
“The students here are really talented and super smart,” Bird said. “To be the ‘electronic music person’ at Notre Dame is a real honor, and it’s always exciting.”
Originally published by at al.nd.edu on February 09, 2026.