Modern music can be viewed as a place for a dramatic turn of events.  Composers
are now questioning as much as they ever have the fundamentals of music. They
are finding new ways to make artistic statements, or so they think.  Some
experiment with the frontier of possible timbres and instruments, and others
attempt to illustrate more mathematical or theoretical concepts.  This
experimentation, however, tends to be musically unsatisfying to audiences, as
can be seen in some listeners’ reactions to modern music; one hears complaints
that the music is “noise” or that “I didn’t understand it.” As a composer, my
belief is this: modern music needs to return to speaking a musical language to
the listener.  Composers can achieve this by tempering their theoretical and
experimental indulgence with a return to making music relate to people.  The
main question I ask of modern music is this: are many modern composers making
artistic statements through their music, or are they simply doing things that
have not been done before, simply out of novelty, regardless of musical worth? 
Perhaps how one views the state of music depends largely on what he considers to
be the primary purpose of music.  It is my belief that music is most powerful
when it acts as a mode of communication of ideas or feelings.  Throughout
history, composers have striven to communicate their ideas through music,
whether emotional or social.
        What do I mean by meaning?  This is something which I have actually just
defined.  One of the most important concerns I have had is: how do we judge what
is meaningful in music--what ideas that composers express in their music can
have true meaning for audiences?  In speaking a language, in order to convey
meaning, the speaker and listener must share in some common experience or
element, which the language expresses.  If the speaker and listener are not
linked by this common element, although the speaker knows what he is saying, the
listener will find the statement meaningless.  For example, I may say to you, “I
just love tripe.” If you have no idea what ‘tripe’ is, or why someone would love
such a thing, you will say, “OK, you love tripe.  What does that mean to me?”
And you would go on your way, unaffected.  Likewise, a composer can attempt to
convey some theoretical idea in a piece, such as various permutations or
combinations of notes.  In doing so the composer may reach a perfect communion
with his theoretical concepts.  However, those ideas which I feel are meaningful
in music are those which concern us all.  They are the universals.  They are
feelings and sentiments such as humor, longing, rejection, rage, love, and
sorrow.  We may be able to see what a composer was thinking when he wrote a
piece demonstrating the acoustics of a particular room or how a sound changes
when its waveform patterns and overtones are systematically altered, but upon
hearing these pieces many listeners are forced to ask: “Who cares?  Why was such
a piece written, and what meaning does it hold for me?” Not all of us have an
interest in such matters.  On the other hand, we can all look into ourselves and
remember our own experiences of laughter, rage, and sorrow, and use these
feelings to internalize and bond with a piece which deals with these things. 
That, I believe, is when music holds a meaning for all who speak its language.
        Another elements of music that helps the audience to understand it is when it
tells a story.  Each audience member can evaluate the story for himself and
decide if and how the story relates to him.  The analogous case is that of
literature: the text tells a story, and each reader can decide if and how the
story relates to him.  The literature held by the Western world to be the
greatest, to have the most meaning, is the literature that relates deeply to
readers, deals with universals, with human nature.  Now much of modern music
strikes many people as the musical equivalent of Finnegan’s Wake.  I think a
quote by the Russian postclassical composer Alfred Schnittke is appropriate
here: “All attempts at writing music with theoretical aims will fail.”
        Throughout my compositional career, I have sought to communicate meaning to my
audiences through my music, spending time thinking about what I wanted to say
and how to say it musically to my audience.  Following these remarks I shall
show how I have attempted to do this in Circus.  Recently, though, new levels of
composition have been surfacing.  Up to this point, all I have cared about is
speaking to my audience, conveying my meaning.  Now I begin to wonder what the
future holds for my writing.  My key question is this: In what musical language
can I speak which will not only carry my message but do it in an original way?
        In order to speak to people through music, the composer must use a language to
which they can relate.  A noticeable portion of modern music, however, consists
of experimenting with possible timbres or illustrating theoretical concepts of
sound.  As I mentioned, many listeners find that they cannot relate to these
types of sounds.  An easy but unoriginal solution would be to use the language
of tonality that Westerners (i.e. people of Europe and North America) have
enjoyed for the past millennium.  To write music with genuine vitality, though,
I must ask, “Is tonality the final destination of meaningful Western musical
language?” After all, most Easterners (i.e. people of India and the Orient) do
not understand tonal music; likewise, Eastern music is based on systems unknown
to most Westerners.  On the other hand, the Western world has used key areas
(e.g. G major, etc.) for hundreds of years and has become quite attached to the
idea.  So in order to speak to people in a comprehensible and meaningful
language, must I use the language they have always known, or is it possible to
create a new medium using the basic building blocks of music--sound and time?
        At this point in my musical journey researching this question, I am making use
of “polystylisticism,” or collage style, an area made known by postclassical
composer Alfred Schnittke.  This style meets the goals of comprehensibility and
originality in a modest way: Westerners relate to many tonal styles of music,
such as classical, jazz, and Latin American.  Even atonal music at certain times
(e.g. to musically depict the unknown) is understandable in context to the
layperson.  Polystylisticism simply combines different tonal and atonal styles
to create a form that is comprehensible by traditional standards, yet unique in
that it is a new treatment of existing styles.  By deconstructing the familiar,
the composer creates emergent musical attitudes about what those familiar styles
represent.  I have found that this technique creates some emergent musical
attitudes which are effective in the proper context, such as the musical
depiction of transformation or even corruption.  My music also tends to be
programmatic, as I believe that ideas outside of music contribute effectively to
the meaning of a piece.  When we can relate music to real life, we are bound to
infuse meaning from our own lives into the music.  Someone once asked me the
question: “have you reached your goal when you make the audience see what you
see, or should they interpret the music for themselves?”  I propose the
following answer: if I use musical imagery to depict a mood or story, I could
attempt to show exactly what is taking place, by giving the audience a
descriptive program.  Or I could just say, “think of your childhood” and let the
audience infuse their own interpretation into the music.  Either way, though,
the audience will not come up with a satisfying interpretation unless they can
understand the language the composer is speaking.  So the composer can attempt
to convey a certain level of meaning by telling the audience a certain level of
detail regarding what the piece is about.  It would be almost impossible to
write a detailed musical story and be perfectly understood without giving the
audience an idea of what is taking place.  But whatever level of detail the
composer wishes to convey, he or she must speak in or create a comprehensible
language.  I will explain and demonstrate how I have attempted to do that
following these remarks.
        Thus, my present place in the world of Western music, and where I am going: I
know what the majority of Western classical music listeners understand, and I
wish to speak with it, but I wonder if there is not a destination for changing
but communicative music further down the road.  I aim to understand more deeply
how I can write music that makes sense and moves people.  And on my way, of
course, I will be fulfilled by doing just that.  Music is, and should be, an
alternate world in which we communicate.