International Awards
Gold Award in Original Composition, 2025 Global Music Genius Competition
Special Award for Inspirational Creativity Musical Genius, 2025 Global Music Genius Competition
First Prize for Original Composition, 2026 UK International Music Competition

Carey Tan’s Symphony No. 2, The Cries of War, is a three-movement orchestral work centred on war, memory, reflection and peace. Rather than depicting only the external spectacle of the battlefield, the work turns towards the deeper wounds that war inflicts upon society, human life and the human spirit: from collapse and fear, to contemplation in the aftermath of destruction, and finally to a solemn commitment to peace.

For a composer aged just twelve, what is striking about The Cries of War is not only the scale of its subject, but also the maturity it reveals in emotional expression, structural progression and orchestral imagination. In his own note on the work, Carey writes that the symphony portrays “different stages of wars in the past and future”, expressing both his view of war’s destructive nature and his hope for future peace. In this sense, The Cries of War is neither merely an elegy nor a conventional hymn of victory. It is closer to a spiritual journey: from suffering to awakening, from chaos to covenant.

The musical language of the work makes extensive use of dissonant harmony, chromatic motion, sharp dynamic contrasts and tense rhythmic patterns, creating a sound world of unrest, rupture and oppression. Brass and percussion often carry the force of conflict, while the strings, through piercing, trembling or darkly resonant textures, suggest grief, fear and inner struggle. The addition of marimba and harp brings a colder, more transparent colour to the orchestral fabric, at times resembling distant echoes of memory within the weight of the symphonic sonority.

The first movement, “Shadows of Misery”, opens in a heavy and sombre atmosphere. Carey conceives this movement as a vision of a society declining under the shadow of war. Passages of conflict repeatedly collide with moments of mourning and contemplation. Although the movement carries a clear tonal indication, the music does not seek immediate harmonic stability. Instead, through persistent dissonance, unsettled dynamic surges and dark orchestral colour, it creates the sense of a world unable to find true rest. The “shadow” of the title is not only the external shadow cast by war, but also the inner shadow of fear, helplessness and traumatic memory.

The second movement, “The Reflection”, leads the music into a more inward-looking space. Compared with the pressure of the first movement, the dissonance is reduced, the melodic lines become clearer, and the harmonic colour turns softer and brighter. Carey makes greater use of major and minor seventh chords, allowing the music to remain delicately suspended between sorrow and hope. Certain melodies retain a sharp contour, as if the pain of memory has not yet faded; yet they often resolve towards brighter harmonies, suggesting a process in which humanity begins to reconsider life, death, responsibility and choice after catastrophe. The return of a mournful colour at the end of the movement reminds the listener that reflection does not mean the disappearance of pain: true peace must still be sought, protected and earned.

The third movement, “The Pact”, begins amid the remnants of war and disorder. The music is filled with dissonance, diminished-seventh sonorities, chromatic movement and long-sustained tension, as though different voices, memories and positions were engaged in argument. The “pact” suggested by the title is not an easy reconciliation, but a shared will gradually formed after suffering, debate and reflection. As the music progresses, the tense harmonies begin to resolve and the tonal colour grows increasingly bright. Carey understands this process as an ascent from chaos towards joy, from the shadow of war towards a vision of peace. In the end, the music closes in an atmosphere of rising brightness, bringing the symphony to a hopeful conclusion.

The power of The Cries of War lies not only in its symphonic scale, but also in the clarity and sincerity of its moral centre. It allows the listener to hear the rupture caused by war, while also suggesting that light may still remain after reflection. War, in this work, is not merely a historical event or an external disaster; it becomes a mirror, reflecting the moral choices humanity must face in the presence of conflict, fear and destruction.As a symphony written by a twelve-year-old composer, The Cries of War poses a serious and universal question with remarkable emotional directness and structural clarity: when humanity is confronted with the ruins and memories left by war, can it still choose peace, responsibility and hope? The work is both an elegy for those who suffer and a symphonic declaration addressed to the future. It remembers sorrow, but does not remain in sorrow; it looks directly at war, yet ultimately carries the music towards