I am forever in love with melodies.

It is just magical and amazing, how a musical phrase with just a few notes, can express a lifetime worth of experiences and emotions - from love, longing, dreams, regrets to hopes, and encompass entire worlds.

As a composer, it's nothing short of a privilege to be able to create them. This score is one of the most memorable projects I have worked on i recent times, simply because the person central to this story, Soo, is nothing short of passionate, and is someone who is living his art every possible minute.

Soo is a renowned restorer of classic Italian cars, and this short film not only reflects on his love for them, but offers glimpses behind-the-scenes of how he and his crew restore them to their original state, as faithfully as possible.

To create the score, we had numerous conversations where he shared about his love for classic cars since childhood, started restoring cars as a hobby, and eventually starting his company Alfa City Motors.

He would talk for hours when we met, the details and intricacies of what he does, why he loved these classic cars. Interestingly, we found much common ground often in our discussions - he would talk about the beauty of the raw "analog" experience of driving a classic car, describing the joy of driving these cars as a result of being able to directly feel, connect with the vehicle, through the vibrations one felt through one's hands on the steering wheel, the foot on the pedal etc. and I shared that similarly, playing an acoustic instrument like the piano, I would feel the connection physically.

To compose the main theme / melody, I drew inspiration from one of my favourite composers, the late legendary composer Ennio Morricone, who besides Ryuichi Sakamoto (another legend), is another one of my biggest musical influences, especially in terms of lyrical melodic writing.

After thinking through Soo’s story, I identified 2 - 3 key themes, and shared with him that my concept was to create a motif for each of them, combining them to create the main theme for the score.

The first important idea I wanted to express, was that he's living his dream - one that started from his childhood, and is now a dream that goes on and on, one that never ends (he does what he loves full time now). I called it the eternal dream theme. So I wrote this rubato, freely expressive melody while imagining a tenor voice singing in Italian, where the theme / phrase seemed to go on and on, stretching "forever". I wanted it to express this lyrical beauty - of feelings of love, contentment and joy, while starting with an introduction that had a child-like innocence (the intro was inspired by the opening of Cinema Paradiso's main theme in fact).

A side note: the reason why I sometimes try to compose, imagining a melody in the sound / tone of a particular instrument (in this case a tenor voice singing in Italian) is that this immediately allows me to feel, and imagine the theme in a specific style, with a phrasing that fits the story I am trying to tell. There is a certain vocabulary attached to instruments and the sounds they make, especially in film music. For example, the sound of a flute immediately reminds you of something that sounds light, flies, a feeling of love, or sweet joyful etc, and a violin playing pizzicato tells you something cheeky, whimsical is going on, and so on.

The second key motif was "heart" - both his, and that of the cars he restores. This motif occurs at the key scene in the film where an engineer is shown working on the carburettor, and the "heart" theme - a pulsating motif, begins. He then starts the engines and the car roars to life, bringing the theme to a climax.

The third key motif is the "bliss" theme, that depicts his pure joy and happiness/contentment being in, and driving one of these classic cars. The flute and harp added here creates a dreamy texture, further enhancing this.

Together, these three motifs form the complete piece / score, which I have titled "Paradiso".

I hope you enjoy this short film and the music. May you be inspired by Soo's passion and his dedication to his art.

Regards,
Tze

[Credits]
Video by Alfa City Motors
Music composed, orchestrated by Tze Toh
Violin solo performed by Wu Bingling
Music mixed by Tze Toh & Jeff Wong

[About]
Alfa City Motors specializes in restoration of classic Alfa Romeos , Lancia , FIAT and Abarth. For more info, visit https://alfacitymotors.com/about/

But I have also come to realise, that often some of our best works simply happened because we never intended for them to be.

It is almost as if the music / artwork had a life of its own, and willed itself into existence at that perfect moment in time. I would like to think that I created these works, but often I feel, we are but a channel (of course, a functional one - that which has studied and practised, is equipped with the knowledge, understanding and technique required).

This piece A Dream of Home, was quite literally a piece that composed itself. I made a new oboist friend Miyako through a mutual friend back in 2015, and we were excited to jam and make some music, and so she came to my studio. Now I have never written for oboe before, and hence I did not have any existing pieces I could play with her (I am a pianist). And so when she came, she played excerpts of some classical oboe pieces for me so that I could get a sense of the tone and personality of the instrument. After listening for a bit, I told her, “I have an idea for a tune. I I think I can hear the oboe playing it.”

And so I just sat down and started writing down the melody in my music sequencing software on the MacBook. I completed the tune, and then immediately felt it needed an orchestral arrangement to go with it. And so I did a quick orchestral sketch as well, creating a digital orchestral accompanying track (mainly strings) for the oboe tune. All of this was finished in 15 mins. She then sight-read the score, and played along with orchestral accompaniment. We were both very happy with how it sounded and loved the result.

And then I asked her, “why don’t we record this right now, just for the fun of it?” She liked the idea and duly obliged.

And so she practised the tune for a bit, and then I recorded her playing. After she left, I spent the entire night expanding the orchestral accompaniment sketch into a fuller orchestration, did a mix and finished the piece.

What you hear here is result.

This piece has remained one of my favourite works all these years, because of how natural it felt and spontaneous it came about. It simply flows, perhaps because I wasn’t thinking about music theory or concept - I wasn’t trying to compose something deep or complex. Maybe I just happened to be there when the music had to be made?

Whenever I listen to this piece, I am always still very much fascinated, and amazed by how alive, perfect this piece feels and sounds. At the same time, I am reminded that so often, we try to make things happen, instead of allowing things to happen in our lives, and in creativity.

Maybe, we should just go with the flow, and let things happen on their own. Too often in life we try to control and plan everything, and yet things don’t go our way - the unexpected / accidents happen, and the best thought out plans fall apart.

Perhaps when we have courage to let go, only then can life truly take us where we are supposed to go.

Final note: this was one of the few compositions, where I did not spend time deliberating, fine-tuning the melody. The oboe theme was created basically from start to finish, with no alterations or improvements. (It did feel like none was needed.)

For reference, usually well-constructed melodies (just the theme itself, excluding the accompaniment, music arrangement) can take weeks to “perfect”.

Also as a comparison, this piece was created almost like an improvisation - in the flow, in one “take” / spontaneously. However, it does have a structure which is closer to that of a composition.

The late legendary composer Ryuichi Sakamoto (1952 – 2023) has been one of the greatest influences on my music besides Ennio Morricone, Keith Jarrett and Stravinsky. He is a composer, keyboardist, record producer, singer and actor. He is prolific, having created music across a wide and diverse range of genres, from film score, electronic music, ambient, pop, bossa nova, new age, contemporary instrumental, sound design to soundtracks for advertisements, anime and video games.

He won the Academy Award for Best Original Score, for his original score for the film The Last Emperor (1987), making him the first Japanese composer to win the award. He is most well known for his piece Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence (the theme was written for the movie of the same name, which he also acted in, with David Bowie), Energy Flow (1999) the first instrumental number-one single in Japan's Oricon charts history, as well being part of the synth-based band Yellow Magic Orchestra (YMO). With his YMO bandmates Haruomi Hosono and Yukihiro Takahashi, they were influential pioneers of the electronic music scene.

As a composer, often as part of the creative process, I research and listen to many different composers for inspiration. Because I write for various kinds of projects, from film, contemporary dance, animation, documentaries, advertisement, concerts, albums, events to specific commissions, I have to listen widely across many different genres of music, from classical, jazz, film music, pop, alternative, anime / video game soundtracks, world music, sound designs to the avant garde. It is through extensive (research) listening that I first discovered his music.

The first Ryuichi Sakamoto album I ever bought, was in fact 1996. Listening to the first track A Day a Gorilla Gives a Banana, I was thoroughly fascinated with firstly, the very unique harmony of the music, which sounded like a cross between eastern and western sensibilities, and then the surprising range and variety of rhythms and instrumental textures, all within a piece that was 1:42mins long. “Such an original sound, and what incredible range of ideas, and such freedom and imagination in incorporating them by a composer!” I thought. Experiencing the harmony of his music really set the tone, and seeded in my mind the sound I would look and yearn for, in my musical journey that followed. From that day onwards, I explored, and searched for ways to create my own version of that unique harmony, that cross between east and west, and the way the chords are voiced, to use in my own arrangements and orchestrations.

Listening to the second piece Rain, I was instantly blown away by the sheer intensity of the music - the simple yet relentless conviction of the string accompaniment riff that drove the music right from the moment the music began (listen below). Then the contrasting lyrical section came in, and blended a mysterious pensiveness into the story unfolding, before returning to the persistent, pulsating strings.

Studio recording of Rain (excerpt), from his album 1996, featuring his piano trio, with violinist Everton Nelson and cellist Jaques Morelenbaum. Listen to full track here.

And so, my curiosity for his music grew, and I searched for and got various albums of his music, and realised his creations spanned beyond the initial kind of music where I first discovered him. For me, one of the most intriguing aspects of Ryuichi Sakamoto as an artist, is that he is fascinated by sound itself, and explores across such a diverse array of musical styles. He has created such an incredible breadth of works over his career, collaborating with various artists across artforms; he is constantly innovating, breaking new ground, with a seemingly endless thirst to push boundaries and make something truly new.

At the heart of it all, for me, I found a single constant at the core of whatever he creates - the ability to connect and move those around him, with what he says through his music.

In his liner notes for his 2017 album Async, he wrote:

He was sharing how he had finished the album, and when all that was left to do was the mix and mastering, he realised he was “fiddling over details”, and that was when he made up his mind: “I decided to pay very close attention to when to let go of my brush for every single track.”

I can never forget how much of an effect reading his first line “an artist’s initial broad stroke is always the most impactful” had on me, as it sums up so elegantly how, instead of striving for “perfection”, a composer or creator should put faith in their natural intuition developed over time, for when a work feels complete and completed. It also serves to remind one to be bold and expansive, while having restraint (which something an art form like calligraphy requires). For me, I think it also suggests the importance for one to have strong intention and purpose when creating - to say something with conviction and of meaning, so that we can effect and connect with those around us and make an impact.

Of course, to do this is not easy. There’s the matter of knowledge, technical ability needed, and also the requirement for one to possess a unique imagination with the astuteness to see or hear beauty, and most importantly, new possibilities where others can’t. Once you have a great idea, then there’s the ultimate problem of finding the best way of expressing it, be it the instrumentation, choice of harmony, and nuances like whether to have melody or rhythm as a focal point, what tempo should the piece be performed at etc and so on.

— So what makes his music so timeless and beautiful?

To me, as first and foremost a music lover and then a composer, it’s the simplicity and conciseness of his works, and the clarity of his ideas in the way he presents them - his works often feel almost minimalist. None of his music pieces ever feel like it needs one more section, one more note, a longer phrase, more instruments or lacking in rhythm, richness of harmony, texture or interesting ideas. His works often feel perfect, and just the right balance of every musical element. They feel like works which have been sonically sculptured, with each detail thought out, pondered over, tried and tested, to arrive at this perfect balance. I think of sculpture as a comparison / description, because I imagine the process to arrive at such meticulously created works. One would probably need to observe from a distance, ponder, chip away a little, move away again, ponder and repeat the process. His works often feel so well-constructed, I think of them as musical architectures - where the beautiful concise external form (melody, overall shape of music) is always supported by well designed structures underneath (harmony, rhythms, textures, instrumentation etc).

I feel there’s always this transparency in his music as well - there is never pretension, nor doubt and hesitation, for his music does not try to be complex for the sake of it. He somehow always find the most direct and simplest way to express something clearly, with (in my mind) a child-like innocence(?) and clarity, so that anyone who listens, would immediately understand what he is trying to say.

I find this to be incredibly beautiful, amazing, humbling and inspiring.

— melodic simplicity / clarity of lines

The one thing that stands out when you listen to his music, is that he writes such simple and memorable melodies or motifs, with examples being Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence, Energy Flow, Bibo no Aozora and main theme from his score for the film The Last Emperor. There’s this clarity with sophistication layered within the music - the main theme always have the right notes (often choice colour ones) and right number of notes needed to tell the story the work was composed to tell. He often uses either simple pentatonic (5 note scales often used in Asian music) or 4-5 note motifs built diatonically from simple major or minor scales. Unlike some composers who choose more complicated ways of expressing themselves, using exotic scales like middle eastern, Indian or Spanish scales, or darker diminished scales or otherworldly-sounding augmented scales, his main themes are often built within the same key initially - any average music listener will think, “this sounds simple.”

Often in his music, it’s either just the melody or the chords at any one point that “moves”, creating momentum in the music, driving it gently forward. There’s almost this plain-ness or a certain (what I consider) “calm” to his works.

For example in his most iconic piece Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence, where the main theme is instantly recognised by most - you can hear in the main theme, after the opening phrase, the melody pauses, and the chord underneath changes / moves (at 0:03, 0:13, 0:21) (listen below) to drive the music forward, and then the melody returns. Later on, the melody and chord / bass line move together in unison (at 0:08) to create greater momentum, giving the music even more energy. You can hear this dynamic - the tension created by the pause of the melodic phrase, and resolved (or replied to) by just the chord underneath next, and followed a few phrases later by the unified movement of both melody and chord that creates a build up, throughout the piece.

Studio recording of Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence (excerpt) - from his album Playing the Piano. Listen to full track here.

The concept of movement in music, creating momentum, generating tension and resolution, and harmonising musical elements, structural coherence - all leading to balance and flow, became an important way of how I compose my works and perceive music. I understood that in order to create rich, deep works, I need to look at music in its simplest forms, and think of the basic building blocks and the simplest of framework(s) for creating. Like in nature, complex life is built from simple life.

For a recent concert The Vast One / Prithvi, which is inspired by and celebrates the diversity of our world, I composed a piece The Cube. I adopted a similar approach, using a simple motif as the core of the piece, with just two choice notes against the chord progression to create tension and interest (listen below). However, I focused mainly on having the melodic theme move in unison with the chords to create momentum in the music, and my equivalent of the silence he often uses, is the surprise chord (a midway conclusion) (at time 0:24) that appears after the initial theme. It is here where everything that came before reached a climax, a midway of the piece / story.

“Live” recording of my composition The Cube in concert, The Vast One (Esplanade Recital Studio, 2024), with saxophonist Teo Boon Chye. Listen to the work (concert highlights) here.

I also created movement in the music as it progresses by having the chords arpeggiated (played as a sequence of running notes), instead of holding the chord like in the beginning of the theme. This piece is about the loneliness one feels living in the modern world, in a crowded city, trapped within four walls of an apartment, an office, a mall, while the world rushes like chaotic clockwork around one. I often like to include improvisation in my pieces to add colour and texture to the overall structure and sound, and for this work, I layered a contemporary jazz saxophone solo over the repeated main piano theme - a sonic visualisation of this “rush of the world” that surrounds us. I requested the saxophonist to play “running'“ lines to create a contrast against my calm, almost “still” piano theme - which depicts the loneliness, the isolation, the silence.

— obstinatos / beauty of repetition

An obstinato is by definition, a musical motif or phrase that is persistently repeated. There’s this incredible energy that repetition in music brings, which is often underestimated. This musical device is used in all kinds of music, from classical music, indian music, pop, jazz, latin music and minimalist music etc - depending on the genre of music it’s used in, we call them vamps, riffs, obstinatos etc

Besides being melody-centric, Ryuichi Sakamoto’s works would often alternatively be built on an obstinato - a rhythmic groove that drives the music, e.g. in his compositions Rain and Bibo no Aozora (listen below) from his album 1996. A haunting, beautiful piece where the motif seems to repeat endlessly, Bibo no Aozora was used in the soundtrack of the film Babel by director filmmaker Alejandro González Iñárritu, for the Tokyo segments of the story, and also closing scenes.

Studio recording of Bibo no Aozora (excerpt), from his album 1996, featuring his piano trio, with violinist Everton Nelson and cellist Jaques Morelenbaum. Listen to full track here.

This alternative approach to creating a piece of music focused on writing the melody first was often useful in composing for contemporary dance works and also for creating mood music for films and documentaries. For a contemporary dance performance, I composed a work Adagio: Into the Air We Fall, focused on this idea of repetition. Here, I chose to move the music along through the harmony, with the chords progressing (listen below).

My composition Adagio: Into the Air We Fall (2013), for a contemporary dance performance. Unreleased track.

As you can hear, there is almost no typical melody here - the chord progression / movement itself shapes the mood of the music, and tells the story. My intention was also for the piece to not feel grounded (as you can reason why from the title), and it felt right to not have a clearly defined melody, and instead let the music drift through the chords. I varied the way the chords moved, and included little surprises to create interest and to express nuanced shifts of emotions. I wanted to create a feeling that the one is just falling, and falling, and falling … upwards for all eternally.

The piece was an impression of how life seems to often feel like a free fall, but with no landing in sight. And if you keep falling, after a while, there is no sense whether you are in fact going down or up - this eternal sense of falling then possibly feels like floating, or that one is in fact, falling upwards infinitely.

I extended the idea of using a repeated motif / supporting riff further in my composition Oblivion Sunset (listen below), for my album Memories of 20255, which explores what it means to be human through the eyes of an A.I in a future uninhabited Earth. I wanted to express the express the cold and vast landscape of nothingness, in a world where no human lives anymore. I imagine the consciousness of the A.I overlooking the world, and hearing the collective memories of humanity as a single voice - the vocals like a lingering memory of an era long gone. The repeating underlying accompanying riff makes the emptiness feel relentless, infinite and never-ending, till eternity. And as the loneliness and sadness becomes almost persistent to the point of being numbing, you hear echoes of hope through a violin solo, a glimmer of possibility of life from afar.

Studio recording of Oblivion Sunset, from my album Memories of 2055, featuring soprano Eunice Suen and violinist Martin Peh. Listen to the full track here.

— End of part i

Often, creating starts with a need, or desire of one to say or express something.

Be it for a commercial project, or a personal story, there’s several ways how the music can happen. (as a professional composer, of course one has a set of tools with which one can readily make music on demand, but that’s a story for another time.) My answer to the title question is kind of something in between.

My favourite approach is to find a good “seed” of an idea - a basic motif / melody fragment, that is simple enough (usually 3 to 4 notes) and yet holds possibilities, that can possibly grow in various ways. (And so, you create the possibility for the music to find you.)

One usually sits at the piano, twinkle on the keys to find one. Because it’s supposed to be a very basic idea, it is not difficult at all to find one. The harder part is how you develop that seed.

Which brings me to the second part.

To focus on just a small musical idea and try to develop it into an entire piece of music can be challenging (once I took more than 2 weeks, just to compose a melody I was happy with, for a particular piece for a concert). So usually, I use a hybrid of 2 or 3 ways to compose different parts of a piece and then combine them, or see how each idea develop and see where they meet.

For example, for one of my favourite works, a piece titled Glimpses of Being (you can listen to it below), I wrote a short initial motif / main theme for the solo violin, and then instead of trying to expand it into a full melody, I started working on an accompaniment which I felt would express the mood, emotion and pacing of the story.

As the title suggests, this piece is an about a pondering of life, a search for something. And so I came up with an accompaniment (for the main section) combining both a piano riff and a string riff that persistently repeated, that expressed this continuity - one looking for answers.

Glimpses of Being (from collection - 12 themes of Yesterday, Now and Tomorrow) - personal project. Listen here:

As you can hear, this is an example of how just a few notes can create a strong “seed” / basic theme full of possibilities, that can slowly grow into something far more intricate and richer.

One of the most important realisations I ever had, that changed the way I create, was that to create something with meaningful complexity, one has to start with simplicity, with basic building blocks - the same way complex life is created from simple life.

The story you are trying to tell always gives you a hint of your starting considerations. It always begins with simple questions like, should the melody that tells the story have many notes, or few notes, is it a melody with strong sense of direction right from the beginning, or does it take time to build up? Is it the story about small steps someone is taking, or a huge risky leap of faith?

Questions like these informs one about what is required of this piece of music. So back to the piece - as the title suggests, it is about taking small steps, and gradually realising there’s something possibly bigger out there - a more expansive picture / view.

So if you are trying to express “starting small” , then it makes sense the basic motif / melody / theme should have very few notes, and sound like small steps. And the melody should sound like it’s kind of wandering around a bit - pensive, and looking for a direction. And that’s what music expresses here.

With the initial theme of 4 notes (and additional 2 -3 other notes of secondary importance), the violin main theme / melody kind of wanders for a bit, going a bit higher and coming back to where it started, again and again.

Only after “searching” around for a while, the theme finds direction and then you hear the bass and other accompanying instruments coming in, supporting the main violin melody; immediately the music expands / grows and sounds “bigger”, stronger and with purpose - which is the exactly the story I am trying to tell.

Additional notes:

Notice how the different layers of instruments / sounds work with one another, to give the music this richness. These sonic textures adds more layers and shades of emotion to the story-telling, often through interplay between the instruments. If you listen to the music (in terms of space) from left to right, you can hear there’s a lot nuances that’s happening - one part / set of instruments on side are responding to the main solo violin on another; you can hear the bass moving in unison with the accompanying piano and strings or etc. All these different various shifting layers are what give the music energy and colour.

Further listening / exploration:

Here are more themes, each composed with a different sound. I will share more about the different processes for creating some of the selected pieces in the future.

I hope you have enjoyed this bit of sharing, and feel free to leave your comments thoughts and questions in the comments section!

Yours sincerely,

Tze Toh

Subscribe now

Beginnings are hard.

Writing music isn’t hard for me. But writing this first post was. Very much so. The same way I would write endless drafts of motifs when composing new music, I wrote drafts of ideas of what could possibly be a first post. But choosing one was difficult.

There’s so much to talk about, for a composer, a performer, so many interesting stories to share. What goes on inside one’s head, when one is improvising? The kind of preparation one does before even starting to compose a new work. How does one stay inspired and always have an endless stream of ideas? How does composing for film differ from composing for contemporary dance, or a concert of contemporary fusion music? How does the visual world connect to the sonic? Is there a simple way to understand why some music moves us more than others? If so, how can one create music or art like that?

So, how / where should I start? In the end, I decided to just write down the bits from the drafts that I remember offhandedly, and go with the flow (as any respectable improviser would)

Why this, why now

I have been creating music since age 10. Being self-taught, I love experimenting, creating my own unique ways of memorising new compositions (since I didn’t notate them), coming up with own approach of structuring music.

I grew up, pursued my love of music, eventually ended up writing and performing music full time. I have always felt like an explorer, and a scientist (as a kid I actually dreamt of becoming a scientist when I grow up).

Before we create something, there’s this process of trying to understand the hidden worlds of how something (actually) works. And/or the worlds beneath the (surface) worlds. Astrophysicists ponder about the Big Bang, and seek to unravel the mysteries of the beginning of the Universe, and Time itself. Composers likewise need to figure out why a combination of notes together with a certain rhythm expresses a certain. That’s what I thought.

In between concerts of original music, writing for film, documentaries, commercials, contemporary dance, albums, playing jazz, teaching, collaborating with other artists, I constantly experimented at the piano, working out the different relationships between combinations of notes, rhythms, working out new palettes of sounds with which I could create new pieces of music. I was also intrigued by how ideas for creating music (or art in general) could be found everywhere around me, in the sounds of a forest, of traffic in the middle of town, of waves and winds by the sea, in beautiful pieces of architecture, in systems in nature and the cosmos - everything that was in constant change, “moving”, was inspiration.

I was curious about the different shades of harmony I could arrive at combining different notes, intervals, and also how each distinctive shape of the hand formed by playing them could then be utilised to improvise freely, creating new textures and moods.

In the age of A.I., I feel it’s even more important to make note of what makes human creativity truly unique and inimitable. Every one of us is a special collection of stories, thoughts, ideas and experiences, and each, an individual with a unique set of perspectives. All these result us leaving our own individual creative thumbprint on whatever we create.

At the same time, the lens through which we view the world often decides how we make music, perform, collaborate with others, and most importantly, how we realise happiness. I feel creating is such a fundamental and intuitive part of being human, that I can’t imagine being touched by real joy in life without actually making something (we all do, all the time - we just don’t label it as such in our mind).

What, how

I will be regularly sharing here, works-in-progress and breakdowns of past projects, sharing the concepts, ideas and inspiration behind them and offering insights about creativity, composition and improvisation (and more perhaps, stay tuned). Think of this as my music diary.

Most important of all, I would like to share my observations and thoughts about how the world around us, all that we see, hear, experience in our lives are universes each on their own - how every one of them are connected in some way. When we purposefully bring the inspiration drawn from each these worlds together, we create these wonderful new works, ideas - a symphony of the multiverse.

The more present we are, with an open mind, the more we notice. These worlds around us never cease to amaze (if we choose to pause, and look closer), offering discoveries, new perspectives, and ultimately infinite ideas leading to endless possibilities.

I look forward to you joining me on my journey.

Begin Again - a piece I composed, in Jul 2016.

Subscribe now