Throughout Advent, Christmas, and now the New Year (Epiphany), I've been reflecting on why I am drawn to sacred music. Why would I compose religious or liturgical music intended for worship in 2024?

The reasons are many, but I've identified three primary motivations: first, I am a Christian; second, I am a working church musician; and third, all composition is a spiritual act. Those reasons also spill over into my understanding of what makes something liturgical, as opposed to only sacred in content. And finally, I want to share some examples of my music intended for liturgical use that goes deeply into sacred themes.

[Note: I promise that not ALL of my blog posts will be so explicitly about Christianity. I know it makes some people uncomfortable and that I have a wide circle of friends and colleagues of many faiths or non-faith backgrounds. But, this is an important part of both who I am as a person and as a composer and it's something I want to write about from time to time!]

First, I am a Christian.
I was raised in the church, grew up attending a Christian grade school, high school, then Christian college. Though I've struggled with my faith at times, I still believe in the Gospel message and see God at work in my life.  I still find the words and music compelling. Sometimes I struggle with my Christian identity, particularly in these divisive times, but these traditions and the act of worshipping God are very meaningful to me. They sustain me spiritually. They sustain me creatively.

Second, I am a working church musician.
Throughout my career, I have always participated in church music in some way. As a child and teenager, I sang in church choir and played piano preludes and offertories. My earliest compositions were improvised settings of hymn tunes. I grew up around church music, then studied it more seriously at Dordt University. Nowadays, I am a part-time choir director, a regular praise team accompanist, a substitute organist, an occasional tenor section leader for several church choirs in addition to singing sacred music of all kinds in a handful of professional choirs. Most of this is paid work and I enjoy the challenge of leading a worship service or sight-reading anthems. It is always fun to learn new music and put my skills as a musician to use. I also enjoy meeting musicians and congregations from other churches and learning more about different faith traditions. I am also grateful that my income is not entirely dependent on church music. I know many musicians that get burnt out doing this work, both by the physical demands of the job (especially around major holidays!) and by the sometimes stressful dynamics of church leadership, finances, scheduling, politics, gossip, etc. It's hard work!

I regularly compose original music for church services, out of interest but also out of practicality. As an organist or pianist, I know what I'm capable of and what my interests are. Composing my own preludes, postludes, and offertories (or improvising them!) saves me the effort of finding and learning new music (some of which is beyond my abilities and some of which is very boring or poorly written). It also allows me to more closely match the theme and content of that particular service instead of shoe-horning music by different composers that doesn't quite fit. As a choral director, I can write music knowing the strengths and weaknesses of that particular group of volunteer choristers. These practical considerations are critical for working church musicians, but by taking more ownership of the music as a composer or arranger myself, I can also maintain a more personal and hopefully spiritual connection to the music that I am providing for a worship service.

Third, composition is a spiritual act.
Composing music is a form of creation that reflects God the Creator.

Abraham Kuyper writes in his Lecture on Calvinism and Art that we owe "artistic ability, that art-capacity...to our creation after the image of God. In the real world, God is Creator of everything; the power of really producing new things is His alone, and therefore He always continues to be the creative artist. As God, He alone is the original One, we are only the bearers of His Image...all this because the beautiful is not the product of our own fantasy, nor of our subjective perception, but has an objective existence, being itself the expression of a Divine perfection."

It is because of God's goodness and grace that humans have the ability to perceive and create art. To be an art-maker is to participate in something Divine.

This might all come across as very bizarre to my secular composer and musician colleagues that come from different faith backgrounds or have no faith -- and that is understandable! What I'm saying is very traditional but is also quite radical and very humbling. They might not see what they do as a spiritual act in the same way that I do, but art makes us *more* human by transcending our humanity. To be fully human is to recognize our value within God's cosmic plan and art reminds of that spiritual dimension to our existence.

There are many composers whose faith or spirituality is woven into their music. There is Bach's devout Lutheranism, Messiaen's technicolor Catholicism, Pärt's tintinnabuli, Bernstein's humanist Judaism, but even an avant-garde composer like John Cage affirms the spirituality of art-making. In his 1957 lecture called Experimental Music, Cage proposes that writing music is a paradox: "a purposeful purposelessness or a purposeless play. This play, however, is an affirmation of life -- not an attempt to bring order out of chaos nor to suggest improvements in creation, but simply a way of waking up to the very life we're living, which is so excellent once one gets one's mind and one's desire out of its way and lets it act of its own accord." If there is no such thing as silence in life, then the endless sounds around us become music by our attentiveness to their chaotic beauty by our wakeful playfulness. We are naturally curious about sound and drawn to manipulate and interpret it. A Christian worldview might affirm that this curiosity comes from the Creator, but regardless of one's faith, that curiosity is an essential human quality that takes on spiritual significance.

There is much more to be said about the theological framework of why I compose (!) but all of these reasons inform why I compose sacred and liturgical music. Not all everything I compose appears sacred on its surface, but anyone trying to understand my music on a deeper level would need to understand its spiritual motivations.

There is an important, albeit subtle, distinction between sacred music and liturgical music. This might be splitting hairs for some and across different traditions, the answers might differ, but to me sacred music reflects upon spiritual themes whereas liturgical music is an act of communing with the Divine. Sacred music is inspired by God's truths; liturgical music embodies them.

​Both are spiritually motivated. Both can be composed and performed as an act of worship. And while both can be experienced outside of a religious service, liturgical music is intended for a religious service and is marked by that intention. More strict faith traditions have very defined guidelines for the music used in liturgy (e.g. specific texts, chants, ceremonies, sacraments). Other traditions sample more broadly. And some traditions use music more like a drug -- a spiritual high or boost that we can get passively -- instead something we participate in actively. We *get* more than we *give* and need to feel something in order for it to be real.

I would argue that while much of contemporary praise and worship is sacred, it is not always liturgical. I would also argue that an elaborate Catholic, Anglican, or Lutheran service may overcomplicate things and get so wrapped up in traditions that it doesn't connect with people. But, what those "high church" traditions do recognize is that worship is a reflection of spiritual truths that exist beyond us. God exists whether we are moved by the music or not. God is already being praised ceaselessly by His creation and we are invited to join that endless song. The service doesn't manufacture these truths for us to make us "feel good" in the moment, but rather we participate in the liturgy as a small part of a much larger divine mystery. 

My own faith tradition (Reformed, largely Calvinist), as theological and scholarly as it is, is not always very liturgical. The backbone of the Reformed service is hearing God's word through the sermon and singing congregational hymns. That's enough: bare white walls, three hymns, and a good preacher. I disagree, and I think Calvin himself disagrees. There are many Reformed scholars that have written about Calvinism, worship, and the arts (there is an entire institute dedicated to this topic called the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship!) but go to your average Reformed church and it is either modelled on the starkly traditional or the vaguely evangelical. It sometimes wounds me (seriously!) to think about the vast, beautiful, and messy musical and liturgical traditions of the global church only to hear a congregation half-mumble "Great is Thy Faithfulness" or "How Great Thou Art." Now, I have been to Reformed churches where people actually *do* sing those hymns robustly in a deeply moving way, but if you try to introduce something new or something ancient or something different you'll get the skeptical side-eye or be told that the music needs to meet the congregation "where they are." Again, I disagree. The music is not only for God or only for the congregation, the music is part of this liturgical meeting place between the two where both are active. I believe that there is room for both rapturous mystery and restrained, unaffected, simplicity. What I don't believe in is bland worship devoid of color and life, depth or nuance, tradition or relevancy.

Even with the ambitious task of creating a liturgical mindset through music, I find myself pulled in two different directions: first, music that expresses the rich, beautiful, divine mysteries of faith; and second, music that has a practical use in worship. Oddly, those definitions seem to be opposite of the distinctions I've made between sacred and liturgical music! The "sacred only" music that I've written tends to go further and be more complex or esoteric, more adventurous, and generally only performed in concert settings; whereas the liturgical music that has actually been used in a worship is more straightforward, more palatable to a general audience, or at least made to appear that way on the surface.

My ideal when composing for a church service (a liturgy) is to compose music that can be both rich and musically vibrant, theologically sound, rooted in tradition, relevant and meaningful to anyone in the congregation, and  deeply personal to me as an artist on my own spiritual path. That's a tall order!

One of my ongoing projects that best encapsulates this way of working is a series of hymn settings called  O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High (Hymn Settings for Liturgical Use). These are arrangements that I've written over many years of accompanying church services. Many of them have deep personal meaning because they were written for weddings, funerals, or special services at the many churches I have played at over the years. Some of them were written following my own personal struggles or crises of faith. On their surface, you might think these are basic, straightforward hymn arrangements, but many of them are quite virtuosic and some veer off into pretty adventurous harmonic, textural, or formal explorations.

​Almost one year ago, several of these were played at a faculty recital at Dordt University (my alma mater) by MaryLou Wielenga and Lois Vander Zee (see the playlist below). That was one of the first times I wrote "program notes" about these pieces and that process revealed to me how interwoven my craft as a composer was with my understanding of my faith and the varied traditions of these hymns. Below the playlist are some examples of those program notes and links to the scores if you're interested in following along.

These aren't the only types of sacred music that I've composed, but they are certainly the most liturgical in the sense that they were intended for worship services. But they were also never intended to be polite background music, but rather as theological statements that push a little harder and stretch the listener a little further towards a spiritual discovery.

Savior of the Nations, Come (Nun komm der heiden heiland)
Written in December 2017 for Calvary Church in Edina, MN, this hymn narrates the entire liturgical calendar from Christ’s conception in Advent to his Ascension to the throne of heaven. The intricate accompaniment of sixteenth notes is relentless and underpins the dramatic character of each verse. Throughout the setting, the circle of fifths is used to highlight the cyclical nature of the text itself (which returns to “Praise to Christ, our newborn King!”) as well as the all-encompassing nature of the Holy Trinity’s redemptive plan throughout history.

O Jesus, I Have Promised
Written in summer 2013 for Bethel CRC in Waupun, WI, this text is more often associated with the English tune ANGEL’S STORY than the Finnish folk tune NYLAND which appears in the Gray Psalter Hymnal (#285). When my pastor insisted that we sing the traditional English tune because no one knew that “Finnish dirge” (as he called it!), I decided to use this beautiful tune (in my opinion!) for the offertory instead. There is a gentleness and innocence about this tune that appealed to me. Between phrases of the hymn are diminutions of the melody in 3/4 time contrasted against the more straightforward 4/4 time. Ironically (or rather, typically, because of our fallen nature) when we arrive at the text “nor wander from the pathway,” the music wanders abruptly into a “dazzling” waltz with “tempting” chromatic surprises. When the child-like innocence returns, it affirms that our trust in God is not naïveté but assurance gained through world-weary experience.

My Faith Looks Up to Thee
Written in 2013 or 2014 for Bethel CRC in Waupun, WI, this hymn has a structure reminiscent of Debussy’s “The Sunken Cathedral” in which each passing verse grows more harmonious and vibrant like it is rising up out of the water. The full range of the keyboard is used to evoke chiming bells, which take on a poignancy after the final verse’s text “when life’s swift race is run, death’s cold work almost done” is truncated and the bells chime with an unresolved sense of anticipation.

O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High
Written in January 2012 for Bethel CRC in Waupun, WI, this hymn and text from 15th century England is often used during Epiphany and looks forward to the following liturgical seasons of Lent and Easter by telling of Christ’s actions of immense love through his words and signs, then ultimately his sacrifice, resurrection, and glorification in heaven. The accompaniment grows more complex and richly orchestrated to match the text of each verse and depict the growing depth, breadth, and height of Christ’s love. For the final verse, it shifts dramatically to a mixed modality of C minor and C major to highlight how the Kingdom of God exists paradoxically both fully now and fully in the future.

My Shepherd Will Supply My Need
Written in 2012 and dedicated to my sister Nicole and her husband Zach Staudt and premiered on their wedding, this setting uses a beautiful melody from Walker’s Southern Harmony and text by Isaac Watts based on Psalm 23. When the melody appears in the lowest bass register in the final verse, it is an assurance of God’s promises as a faithful husband to his bride. The duet that follows weaves together the melody in canon like hands intertwining. In my arrangement for wind ensemble of this hymn, those parts were assigned to clarinet and tuba, which my sister and brother-in-law played at Dordt where they met.

He Leadeth Me
Written in 2014 for Bethel CRC in Waupun, WI, this setting includes two verses followed by the refrain. In the first verse, the fluid left hand accompaniment uplifts the soaring “heavenly” melody. But this accompaniment grows wilder and more chromatic to conjure up ideas from the text like “by waters calm, o’er troubled sea” from verse two and “e’en death’s cold wave” from verse four. The storm passes gently and we travel “through Jordan” on a mysterious rising Lydian scale. What follows is the emotional release of the chorus with poignant jazz-inspired harmonies that eventually lead back to the opening accompaniment.

It Is Well With My Soul / O grosse Lieb
Written while as a student at University of Wisconsin – Madison and performed at Bethel CRC in Waupun WI, this setting combines a verse from the Lutheran chorale HERZLIEBSTER JESU as it appears in J. S. Bach’s Saint John Passion. At the time, I was singing this monumental work with the university chorus and orchestra and this chorale particularly moved me with its beautiful harmony and words. The passion invites us to contemplate Christ’s sacrifice and this chorale evokes the weariness and weight of our guilt. The third verse of “When Peace Like a River,” emotionally matches the text of this chorale:
 
“My sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
—My sin, not in part, but the whole,
is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more;
praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!”
 
Fragmented reminders of that “glorious thought” are hinted at throughout the dark chorale setting. The refrain, “It Is Well,” fully appears suddenly (surprisingly!) when the entire piece shifts to a new key at the end. The traditional resolution of the chorale should be from G minor to G major, but this shift is to an entirely new dimension in a new key with a new hymn tune in C major and linked by three repetitions of the pitch G – a pivot from guilt to grace to gratitude.

In writing this, I quickly realized that this topic is far too large for a single essay! I had wanted to contrast these piano pieces with some of my more experimental or esoteric sacred music, such as my O Antiphons, Chant Etudes, or my setting of John Calvin's Commentary on Luke 2 "Gloria in excelsis!" Perhaps, I will write about those pieces in the future and diving into why a "good Reformed, Calvinist boy" like myself would ever musically respond to Gregorian chant or Latin liturgical rites. There are also many of my choral and organ works that I would enjoy digging into further to explain how my compositional choices are influenced by my faith (e.g. Your Grace Is Sufficient for Me) as well as explore my more secular concert works with religious themes (e.g. The God of Material Things, Chamber Symphony 'Beams of Heaven', or my Paul Klee work "City of Churches"). But, alas, this post has already grown way too long!

And, finally I had also wanted to use this as an opportunity to introduce a consortium of organ fantasias based on the Genevan psalm tunes (as a companion to the already completed and premiered Fantasia on Genevan Sixty-Five). That project will certainly pick up on some of the themes of this post, particularly the centuries-long debate in Calvinist and Reformed circles about the austerity and/or exuberance of worship.

But for now, there is so much music to write, so many services to organize and prepare for, and so much more to learn as I continue to express my faith through my music-making. At the end of the day, it's reassuring to know that if I don't praise him, all nature and the heavenly hosts will still be singing. There is no such thing as silence. That is a joyful thought and also a compelling invitation to join the divine mystery.

Photo: Randi Hausken, Feb 23, 2008, CC BY-SA 2.0 DEED

A few weeks ago, I played "In the Bleak Midwinter" as a prelude at Calvary Church in Edina, MN (watch the full service on their YouTube page if you're interested). This morning we sang this hymn as well. "In the Bleak Midwinter" is one of my favorite Christmas songs -- and I'm not alone in that! Recently, it was voted the second most popular Christmas carol by Minnesota Public Radio listeners in their annual Carol Countdown. But why?

The melody and harmony are of course beautiful (I prefer the Gustav Holst setting from 1906 but the Harold Darke version from 1909 is also lovely!) But the music, beautiful as it is, exposes something powerful about these words. Words that cut deeply into our human experience. These lyrics are vulnerable and intimate. They express the immense richness and cosmic significance of the Christmas story. They also go much deeper into the darkness and mystery than most Christmas carols.

In that same service, as I listened to my pastor preach on Galatians 4:1-7, specifically about how Christ is born under the law, more connections to this carol were made clear.

"What I am saying is that as long as an heir is underage, he is no different from a slave, although he owns the whole estate. 2 The heir is subject to guardians and trustees until the time set by his father. 3 So also, when we were underage, we were in slavery under the elemental spiritual forces of the world. 4 But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, 5 to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. 6 Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” 7 So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir."
--Galatians 4:1-7

On the surface, it may be hard to hear "In the Bleak Midwinter" through all of Paul's references to slavery and the law and our adoption as children and co-heirs with Christ. There is a woman and child, yes. But, there is no manger scene. There are no angels. There is no "snow on snow on snow."

But let's go line by line and verse by verse and see the comparisons! (Note: There are differences between the original poem by Christina Rossetti and those published in various hymnals. I will be using the original poem below)

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

I can think of no more powerful image of "all creation groaning" (Romans 8:22), or frosty wind made moaning, than these first lines. This is an eternal winter, an eternal bondage to sin. The "elemental spiritual forces of the world" are hard as iron, a permafrost of original sin than no man can break through. It is not a quaint winter landscape, it is perilous, treacherous, deadly ... bleak ...

I have heard well-intentioned pastors push back on these lyrics because it is not Biblically accurate to have snow present at the Nativity. Of course there was no snow in Bethlehem, but that is not the point of the text. It is not a meteorological image but a metaphorical one. Snow is a metaphor for the generations and generations of those living under the law. Layer upon layer of human sin and suffering covered by the "snow" of God's grace through the law before Christ. Snow is the blood and ash of thousands of sacrificial rams covering our sin. Those sacrifices were a temporary blanket of grace, "snow on snow," but are not sufficient to end the eternal winter of sin. The promise of an end to winter through a sacrificial lamb that is truly God and truly human, the Incarnate Christ, our Emmanuel, comes in the next verse:

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign:
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

In the bleak midwinter, in the fullness of time, God sent his Son. This is the first ray of sunshine that will melt away the darkness in the coming thaw. God's grace towards His people is bursting at the seams and cannot be contained to heaven, but it also appears in the humble and barren wasteland of a broken humanity that cannot sustain it. From that humble stable will grow an everlasting kingdom. That kingdom is of both worlds: it is heaven and earth becoming one again, united first in the incarnation at the fullness of time and eventually in the second coming at the end of time. The broken relationship between estate owner (God) and heir (humanity) is repaired through the birth and death of Christ. Some versions of the lyrics replace the word "Almighty"  with "Incarnate" to better reflect the unprecedented miracle of the divine being born in a lowly stable.

Enough for him, whom cherubim worship night and day,
Breastful of milk and a mangerful of hay:
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

This verse is often left out in hymnals and perhaps to some people the intimacy of Mary breastfeeding her son, our Lord, is uncomfortable. But, it is both biologically and theologically sound to sing about Mary's pregnancy, labor, and breastfeeding. The Gospels record these things for a reason because they demonstrate our shared humanity with Christ. One of the curses given to Eve for humanity's original sin was the pain of childbearing. And like Eve, all mothers endure this pain. Mary endured this pain as well. In fact, "we know that the whole creation has been groaning (or frosty wind made moaning) as in the pains of childbirth" (Romans 8:22) That unbroken curse has been passed down to us in our mother's milk. We are born and raised in sin. To know that Christ also partook of that "old" milk, yet remains sinless, is a very powerful image. And that because of the Incarnation we will be nourished by this "new" milk, the "firstfruits of the Spirit" (God as our Mother). In this very intimate way, we recognize that as children of God we are fully dependent on God's grace in the same way that Christ was fully dependent on his mother's milk. The final line of this verse shows that all creation (the ox and ass and camel) are "subjected to frustration" but will also be redeemed. Therefore, all creation recognizes that this moment in the fullness of time is one for reverence and worship and add their voices to the ceaseless choirs of cherubim and seraphim (Revelations 5:13).

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

While all heaven and earth rejoice, the lyrics continue with this strikingly intimate moment of mother and child. When reading the genealogies of Jesus at the beginning of Matthew or Luke, or Paul's description of fathers and sons, we might adopt a patriarchal attitude. But Paul says, "born of a woman" and that is a crucial, and revolutionary, statement. The Gospel of Matthew goes as far to include several important (and quite scandalous!) matriarchs in Christ's genealogy (Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, Mary). And although the Gospel of Luke's genealogy is men only, it is prefaced by several important scenes centered on women: the Annunciation, Mary visiting Elizabeth, the Magnificat (Song of Mary), the Birth of John the Baptist, and the Song of Zechariah. When Mary "treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart" (Luke 2:19) she knows, perhaps more deeply than anyone at that moment, how important this child will be. The angel Gabriel has told her, her husband Joseph and his own angelic revelation have told her, her relatives Elizabeth and Zechariah have told her, the shepherds who heard the angels have told her. That kiss is a reminder of her song, the Magnificat, in which she proclaims that "His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation." The generational systems of violence and oppression will come to an end because of this child, born of a woman. She knows her history as a child of Abraham, a child of Adam, a child of God, but she also knows her future as the mother of God, and that her son is beyond precious. She is overwhelmed by these promises and "worships the beloved with a kiss."

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

This is where the song finally comes full circle. How should we, in the bleak midwinter of our own sinful, humble, and poor lives, worship the incarnate Christ? Paul writes that because God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law, that we are redeemed and adopted as heirs. The only response anyone can have to that immeasurable grace is to give their whole self (their heart, where God has sent the Spirit of his Son). The parallel here is Micah 6:8 "And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." Our response to becoming heirs of God's promises is our full and humble participation in vineyards of God's kingdom. It is not the offerings of calves, rams, and rivers of oil (Micah 6:6-7) that are pleasing to God. Those are the sacrifices made by the generations before us born under the law, "the snow on snow on snow," that Christ's birth, ministry, death and resurrection have come to radically redefine. We are a part of the new covenant, where we offer ourselves as a "living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God--this is your true and proper worship." (Romans 12:1)

Of the many beautiful Christmas carols and songs of the season, this one always cuts deepest to the vulnerable places in our hearts. We still see the bleak midwinter all around us. We still see the "snow on snow on snow." But we also recognize the hope that has been given to us through God's Son.

And in singing this song, let us be reminded of that promise.

Let heaven and nature sing! O come let us adore him!

As part of a semi-regular blog rotation, I plan to ask myself the "why" of composing! Why am I interested in certain musical forms, genres, or techniques? Why am I dedicating time to a certain type of composition? Why do I do this thing called composition at all?

This month: Why Arranging?

Generally speaking, musical arrangements are adaptations of existing musical works -- a transcription from one instrument or ensemble to another, an orchestration of material for larger forces, or a reduction of a large ensemble work for smaller forces. Though I have always done arrangements of many kinds, I have taken a greater interest in arranging in the last couple of years. There are many reasons for this -- beyond the fact that I simply enjoy it! -- but the most compelling is that arranging is a safe place to explore, learn, and create opportunities.

Arranging another composer's work is a chance to learn from that composer in a very up-close-and-personal way. The process of arranging is slow and methodical and this allows for an extended study of a work from the inside out. You begin to see more layers and interconnected moments. You begin to appreciate the nuance and detail of a work. This deep dive into the nuts and bolts of a musical work is necessary to inform the countless decisions you need to make to complete the arrangement. Certain musical ideas from the original may not work in the new medium, so you will need to hypothesize the best solution based on what the composer has already written. You begin to have a deep conversation with the composer (whether imagined, if deceased, or real, if living!) These are all opportunities to learn from another composer and carry those ideas into your original work. Certain schools of composition training focus on learning from the masters through score study. Historically, Bach transcribed Vivaldi's concertos. Liszt made piano reductions of Wagner's operas (among many other arrangements and transcriptions). One of my teachers told me about having to copy Schoenberg's "Pierrot Lunaire" out by hand! My first orchestrations were chorales and piano solos. This is a part of our early training, but why must that education stop? There is always more to learn and creating a diligent arrangement of another composer's work is a great way to continue learning.

Arranging is a bit like a coloring book: the lines are already there -- you supply the color! You can still have a vast imaginative palette of sounds without worrying about the form and musical lines. You simply are illuminating new possibilities within the music. No two arrangers will "color" a piece the same way, so you can still have an independent voice and put your creativity to use to bring another composer's work to life. There is also a practical application. When composing every component of a work and something isn't right, it can be difficult to determine where the issues originates. But with arranging, you can focus on orchestration, balance, nuance, and texture in isolation. The process is much faster than writing original music as well, so you can really work quickly if needed, or take the time to experiment and tinker until the colors are perfect.

Composing original music -- especially large scale orchestral or instrumental works -- takes an incredible amount of time and energy. This, coupled with the a very slim chance of performance, makes it a risky endeavor. Yes, there are competitions and call for scores (which I have entered and at times found success). Yes, there are organizations dedicated to presenting new works (which I have applied for many times). But, these are all highly competitive and selective and often require you to write new, original work with no promise of a premiere. Few presenters will take a risk on a contemporary composer, but they might be more interested in an arrangement of an established composer that fits their instrumentation. In this way, arranging can create opportunities in a risk averse climate and deliver something high quality that demonstrates your skill and might lead to further opportunities for your original work.

For example, I arranged ​Gesualdo's madrigal Resta di darmi noia for The Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra with Conrad Tao. I was in the right place at the right time to put my ideas out there and it has now led to opportunities for a new strings only version with Oregon Symphony to be premiered in Spring 2024. This also has led to other arranging projects at The Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, such as a reduction of Lili Boulanger's D'un matin de printemps for chamber orchestra, an arrangement of Beethoven's "Heiliger dankgesang," and several arrangements of works by Abel Selaocoe. Of course, I would love to have my original works premiered someday, but I am also content in arranging other fantastic works in collaboration with a phenomenal orchestra. There is great value in this!

All you can do is make the most of the opportunities at hand in hopes that they lead to other opportunities down the road. Those doors are starting to open for me more through arrangements than original works, so that's where I'm going to keep applying myself.

Another way I hope to use my skills as an arranger is to promote works by other composers, especially composers whose work I enjoy or has been ignored historically. There is a long tradition of composers arranging each other's works and I feel a sense of duty to bring these works to life through arrangement.

Some exciting projects include arrangements of piano works by Cecile Chaminade and Fanny Mendelssohn-Hensel, two phenomenal women composers that had limited opportunity to write for orchestra but whose piano music is ripe for orchestration. My version of Fanny Mendelssohn's "Das Jahr" also includes parts for singers and chorus to highlight its oratorio-length proportions and gesamstkunstwerk tendencies. (It truly is a masterpiece! I've learned so much from dedicating myself to her music!)

Through arranging, I have been able to hone my craft and grow my network of opportunities and seek inspiration for my original work. Arranging will likely never become the totality of my creative output, but it has certainly became an important part of my creative practice.

If you are interested in any of these arrangements -- or know a conductor or ensemble that might be interested in them! -- please reach out and let me know! Some are completed and others in-progress but I'd love the opportunity to have them performed!

Back in August, I celebrated my 2-year anniversary as a member of Kôr Fitness & Performance - KFP CrossFit in Newport, MN which made me reflect on how that time spent in the gym has affected other areas of my life -- in particular, my creative life as a musician and composer.

Now, there is a stereotype that CrossFit is a fitness *cult* and that its members *won't shut up* about it! Well, that may be true, but after two years of dedicated work in the gym I cannot deny the physical and mental changes taking shape. These changes have also flowed into my creative practices and have shown me how these areas are interconnected with my overall wellness.

​Here is my list of 5 reasons why CrossFit has made me a better musician!

One reason I started CrossFit was to become more comfortable in my body and gain confidence in myself physically.

In my early 30s, I started feeling unsure of myself: too young for a mid-life crisis, too old for naïveté. I was stressed out and felt out of shape. I had achieved so much academically and as an artist, but also felt a little lost personally. My friends and family were getting married, buying homes, starting families, or getting doctorates. I was working hard but doubted whether I was really accomplishing anything. Another thing weighing on me was the growing realization and eventual acceptance that I was gay. Years of being in the closet were taking their toll emotionally, spiritually, and even physically. With encouragement from my family, I started going to an Anytime Fitness in Saint Paul, where I faithfully attended classes and saw steady progress even as part-time coaches came and went. By March 2020, I was on a bit of a plateau -- no huge gains, but consistent growth. Then the pandemic happened. My gym closed and my fitness routines were thrown into a tailspin like everything else. But, in those years were three important milestones:

In September 2020, as part of a self-imposed creative retreat in Duluth, I made an oath to myself while standing on the shore of Lake Superior to accept myself and my queerness and in doing so to continue growing spiritually, musically and physically stronger day by day.

In May 2021, I came out publicly on social media with a renewed purpose to be more open and vulnerable about this part of my life. That post also included a commitment to becoming more physically active since there was a clear connection between my mental and physical wellness that I wanted to strengthen and develop.

In August 2021, my brother-in-law invited me to KFP CrossFit and I kept showing up, taking risks, accepting feedback, and celebrating the milestones, no matter how big or small. It was addicting and by December 2022, the coaches named me "Most Improved Male Athlete of the Year" and now I'm a regular at the 6:15 a.m. classes five days a week!

This journey was about more than just acceptance. It was about showing respect to my body's role in my physical and mental wellness. By showing love to my body, I was learning not to hate or hide these parts of myself, but to celebrate them and develop them more fully.

In order to be a confident musician, you need to be comfortable in your own body. Your body is part of your instrument and essential for your performance. There are many types of bodies and many ways to be comfortable in them, but finding that balance and confidence is key.

CrossFit helped me reconnect my mind and body in surprising ways and was part of a much larger picture of acceptance and self-love that had been missing for years.

At a very basic level, a musician is an athlete. We use our bodies and minds to perform at the highest levels in high-energy, high-stress environments with demanding schedules. Music takes incredible focus over extended periods of time to master through diligent practice. You need a strong work ethic, good habits, and a positive attitude.

All of these traits are evident in your typical CrossFitter!

The people I have met are some of the hardest working, driven, and committed people I know. These are traits that are learned over time and don't always come naturally. It's uncomfortable to push yourself. It's frustrating to fail. It's not glamorous to lie in a pool of your own sweat at the end of a workout. But as an athlete it is critical to put in that work in practice so that your performance can be stronger. You need to build up your endurance and experience in order to succeed and adapt over time.

It's the same with music. Practice makes perfect. Those hard won moments in rehearsal and private practice are the skills and habits you need to develop in order to sustain a musical career. It can be grueling at times, but it takes commitment. The muscle memory comes with repetition. The mindset comes with consistent practice.

I'll admit that I don't have very good practice habits -- but CrossFit has shown me how progress can be made if you really dedicate yourself and work through the uncomfortable and unglamorous parts (what CrossFit might call "the pain cave") to get to the other side where those skills feel natural and sustainable as part of your musical toolkit.

One of the biggest reasons I continued coming back to CrossFit was the coaches! A good coach can know exactly what to say to help someone breakthrough and reach the next level. They provide that constant positive reinforcement, critical feedback, and accountability that leads towards progress. Over time they can transform the way someone thinks about themselves and their goals. They remind us to focus on our form, not just the leaderboard. And when we fail, they provide not only useful feedback but also encouragement on what you achieved by failing. It is your coach's words that echo in your mind to help you when you're on your own.

As musicians, we have our own teachers and mentors, but not all of them have left us with positive self-talk. A negative comment can linger for years and echo in our minds. Mistakes can become mental blocks. Years of rejection can make you embittered. Performance anxiety and imposter syndrome are very real! It is important to be self-critical and realistic about our performances in order to improve, but it also essential that a musician surrounds themselves with positive and supportive voices. These mentors can be hard to find later in your career but are just as important then as in earlier stages.

The coaches I've met through CrossFit also understand the important of the whole person, not just the athlete. They genuinely care about other parts of my life, my interests, my hobbies, my mental well-being. This can sometimes be true among musicians, but more of us need to be reminded that we are more than just musicians! We are multifaceted people with real lives! Being a professional musician is a demanding lifestyle that can completely consume a person. I've found it is important to have interests and hobbies outside of music to not only be more well-rounded, but also to "escape the music" when you need that emotional distance. The gym is one of those places for me (so is my garden) and it gives me a chance to clear my mind before returning to the music with refreshed enthusiasm.

The music community is very close-knit. This can be great, it can also create a closed loop -- an echo chamber that reinforces the same ideas and habits. Among top professional organizations, the network becomes even smaller with certain conservatories or schools dominating the landscape. Many arts organizations are actively seeking to diversify, which is critical and long overdue, but they don't always listen to or support those diverse perspectives in authentic ways. And furthermore, that diversity is not only the more visible things like race and gender, but also educational and economic background or religious and political beliefs.

In our polarized political and social landscapes, it is easy to remain in our bubbles with people we assume think exactly like we do. But that bubble is exactly what prevents us from connecting to those around us in ways that create meaningful change and dialogue.

My CrossFit gym is probably the most diverse place in my daily life. There are athletes at my gym that are active and retired members of the military. There are police officers, nurses, teachers, and first responders. There are many races and ethnic backgrounds. There are people with physical and mental disabilities. There are religious and non-religious people. There are married couples, both straight and gay, as well as single people. There are kids classes, teenagers, parents, grandparents, and people of all ages. While we don't talk a lot about politics or social issues, I know that there is diversity of opinion at my gym. But what brings me hope is that even though we represent a wide range of backgrounds and beliefs, we come together around health and fitness to create an encouraging community. Those differences do not prevent us from caring for each other because our collective mission is greater - and that really inspires me!

When I see community building in the musical sphere, it may appear more diverse, but can feel very contrived. It feels almost clinical or sanitized instead of authentic. People may mean well, but can be patronizing. Or, people make assumptions and prescribe their specific goals in advance rather than engaging the community at the start and truly listening. An authentic community comes together around common purposes, but still leaves room for diversity of thought and opinion. It leaves room for the hard conversations. It leaves room for nuance. Even if that feels "messier," it is an environment where true change can happen.

Ask anyone at KFP and they will tell you about the welcoming, down-to-earth, and encouraging community at our gym. This starts with a commitment to positive gym culture, for example:

We wait until everyone finishes before we clean up our equipment.
We cheer for everyone as they cross the finish line, no matter how long it takes them.
We celebrate the big and the small victories.
We give every person in the room a high five, fist bump, or hug, whether they are regulars or first-timers.
We take the time to battle our inner demons.
We honor and respect each other as well as our heroes and role models.
We see each other struggle and fail, but also watch them achieve things they never imagined.
We see other at our sweaty-gross-dying-on-the-floor-gasping-for-air ugliest.
We are forged in the fire again and again.

One of our gym mottos is "building unbreakable human beings" and that only happens through community. No one gets there all on their own.

It should go without saying, but "people are important in your life!" No matter what stage of life you are in or career path you are navigating, the people on that journey are influential. The more genuine and real you can be with those people, the stronger those relationships become. The more you show up among those real people, the stronger that network becomes. We all need a support network, but what does that network look like? Is it a vague network of colleagues, customers, and clients? Or, is it a network of life-long collaborators that are more like friends and family? Both networks are necessary, but when trials come, who is going to be there? Who can you ask for help? Who can be a partner? Who can be a "good hang"?

I have made many friends in the music community and am thankful for many strong relationships. Some of these go way back and others are much newer. Some of these are "forged in the fire" friendships created through season after season of collaboration and others are circumstantial. What my gym community has shown me is that you need to show up for people, especially those people that you are closest to, and build that "unbreakable" network by being a strong and dependable ally yourself. This takes time and dedication, but it is energy well spent!

If you want to hear more about my CrossFit journey, or hear the stories of some others folks at my gym, one of the coaches interviewed me for their monthly podcast which was released back in May 2023!

There is a moment in my orchestra work Fili di Perle that always brings me a sense of villainous joy!

Towards the end there are several culminating moments with these superchords, arpeggios, aleatoric passages, and a four chord progression played fortissimo by the brass section in measure 231.

​If ever there was music that could stand in for my alter-ego/super-villain and his maniacal laughter -- this is it!

When originally scoring this, I was concerned with superimposing the other motivic ideas used throughout the piece. (These ideas actually come from an earlier work The God of Material Things and were used as a launchpad for the new orchestral work!)

I never gave much thought to how you could "label" these triads, because honestly, I don't analyze my music that deeply when composing. Usually, I sketch out ideas, explore them, stretch them into new territory, and then analyze why I chose those paths much later. Also, I'm less concerned with the theoretical "function" of a chord and more about its sound and what other chords can be used before and after. (Yes, I consider voice leading, root progression, set theory, and all the other tools I've learned, but I'm not really a theorist -- I'm an artist, and in reality I let my ears lead first and then let my brain analyze why my ears chose those sounds!)

There are a lot of interesting ways to analyze this section. For example, you could note that the root progressions (Eb, A, F#, Eb) are all tri-tone and sixth relationships and that the top notes (Bb, G, C#, Bb) are also, with the result being intervallic mirroring! Or, I could point to the existing motifs and how they are all superimposed throughout the entire work and culminate in this moment! But, we are hear to talk about these four chords and their "labels" (wouldn't want my villainous monologue to get the best of me!)

And those four chords are (roughly) Eb(#9), F+9/A, F#m(maj7), and F#o7 with extensions b9, 11, b15, 17.

Here are the original four chords, as scored for brass with some doubling.

Now, that first chord is an Eb with both a major 3rd and a minor 3rd, so we can call that minor 3rd a #9,
​making it an Eb(#9) chord

That second chord is essentially a fivenote version of a whole tone scale, but because of how it is voiced, we can say
it is F+9/A. You might argue that it is an A+7 with a #13, but does it really matter with whole tone collections ... no ...

The third chord is straight-forward, an F#m with a maj7.

And then we reach that fourth chord -- that beast -- whose pitch set is a type of blues scale; not really the hexatonic (C Eb F F# G Bb) or the nonatonic (C D Eb E F G A Bb B), but somewhere in between. Now, when I tried to find the prime form of this set, it said it is 8-z29 or 0 1 2 3 5 6 7 9, but I can't for the life of me make that work with the original set of pitches ... and decided not to beat myself up about it! (I'm the villain after all, not a goody-goody theorist!)

When stacked as thirds, the bottom four are clearly F#o7, with the remaining four near the 9th, 11th, 15th, and 17th extensions. You might be saying, "But, 15ths and 17ths aren't really extensions..." and you might be right, I don't really know! (Mu-ha-ha-ha!)

​The way its voiced originally makes it feel like a diminished chord (that melodramatic one!) and what's curious is that the F#o7  might want to resolve to G, but that G is already superimposed as a G7#9, so there's some wanting and having, bait and switch, villainous joyful cruelty to that chord...

I promise I'm not a super-villain! Just a composer (which is the next best thing perhaps!)

"Rounds of Applause" is a series of pieces for an audience (or group of performers). They are sets of instructions,
patterns, or games and can be performed in any order. Preferably, they are taught to an audience and used instead
​of our standard "free-for-all" applause.

The composer is only half-joking ... these pieces, while perhaps impractical for actual "applause," do create a unique interplay between the social and the sonic worlds. They require us to participate. They require us to listen. They show us our divisions and our limitations. They show us our cooperation and our potential. And they are fun!

Earlier this June, I had the incredible opportunity to be a part of the inaugural Mostly Modern Festival, held at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs, NY. The festival, founded and organized by Robert and Victoria Paterson, was an incredible success!

Every aspect of this festival was so well-organized and encouraging and I am deeply grateful to all of the wonderful composers, musicians, clinicians, and organizers, who made this one of the highlights of my summer!

Below are a few videos and recordings of my pieces included in the festival.

"Ricercar" and "II. The Flood" from Chamber Symphony 'Beams of Heaven'
Originally submitted for the orchestral readings, these two movements from my in progress chamber symphony were selected to be premiered with the American Modern Orchestra and directed by Martim Sousa Tavares.

Selections from Paul Klee: Painted Songs
These three movements from my ongoing series were composed for the American Modern Ensemble. They are part of a larger set of Klee settings (Gallery II). The world premiere was conducted by Lauren Tian.

No. 13 "Rose Garden"
No. 17 "Carnival in the Mountains"
​No. 22 "Dream City"

Triptych from Paul Klee: Painted Songs
In addition to the premieres by the American Modern Ensemble, Bradley Bascon and Tom Valdez premiered a set of three pieces from Paul Klee: Painted Songs on one of the chamber music concerts.

No. 18 "Intoxication" for solo violin
No. 20 "Unstable Equilibrium" for violin and violoncello
No. 16 "In the Magic Mirror" for solo cello

My newly-composed work "Voices of the City" will be premiered alongside works by Libby Larsen and David Evan Thomas as part of the Open Source: World Premieres Concert, the opening night of the Source Song Festival.

Program:
"Pharaoh Songs" by Libby Larsen
Alan Dunbar, baritone
Mark Bilyeu, piano

"To Joy" by David Evan Thomas
Mary Wilson, soprano
Clara Osowski, mezzo
Jacob Christopher, tenor
Tyler Duncan, baritone
Arlene Shrut & Erika Switzer, piano
​
"The Voices in the City" by Jonathan Posthuma
Maria Jette, soprano
Mary Jo Gothmann, piano

Excerpts of my in-progress will be premiered in Curitiba, Brazil as part of the International Workshop or Orchestral Composition!!! I will be in Brazil from August 21 - 26 for the festival and honored to have my music performed by the ​Federal University of Paraná Philharmonic Orchestra.

A video introduction that explains a little about the upcoming premiere of "Suite Excentrique" with Transient Canvas and my participation in the Alba Music Festival both last year and this year!