Never before have I found myself so far out on Refshaleøen – at least not without being at Copenhell. I’m almost at the island’s northernmost point when I, somewhat hesitantly, walk around a few unassuming buildings to find the rehearsal space where the Taiwanese-Danish percussionist and composer Ying-Hsueh Chen has agreed to meet me. Luckily it’s not raining, even though the sky is very grey, and luckily it’s not truly cold yet, even though the November air carries a faint chill.

At the exact moment my phone suddenly decides to emit an alarm sound, someone calls out to me from a nearby house. Wearing large glasses, a big hat, and an air of expectation, Chen comes towards me. We’ve met once before, eight or nine years ago, but we never get around to talking about that – there’s simply too much else to discuss.