Composing As An Act Of Service Versus Self-Absorbed Navel-Gazing

For anyone on a positive spiritual path—whatever faith or beliefs motivate it—the idea of being of service to others rather than just yourself becomes increasingly important to the development of one’s character.

And since composing music is one of my all-time favorite things to do, and I really want to do more of it, it has got me thinking about how I can be of service through my work as a composer.

At first that seems like a contradiction, since composing music is an inherently introverted, self-absorbed activity.

Most of us composers and artist-types tend to be more caught up in our own thoughts and ideas than the people around us.

We’re natural-born introverts.

I’ve even been accused of being selfish on occasion, and I admit I am sometimes. But there is a difference between being outright selfish versus self-absorbed. 

Being selfish implies you have no consideration of other people. Your entire world revolves around yourself, and the only place for other people is to serve your own desires.

Being self-absorbed, on the other hand, is being caught up more in the inner space of thoughts and ideas than the world, or the people, around you. We introverts are more thought-focused than people-focused.

However, that tendency to be thought-focused does, admittedly, put us introverts further along the spectrum of selfishness than, say, the extrovert who loves people, and is always focused on serving them.

That’s why I feel it is important for me to approach my art and craft of composition as more than just a self-absorbed exercise in navel-gazing, but as an act of service to others. And not just in a generic sense, but in a specific sense, to specific people.

Allow me to elaborate. Music requires the following to exist, in chronological order:

1. The Creator, the Source Of All That Is, and therefore the Source Of All Music.
2. The composer, who’s expression is but a poor reflection of the infinite creativity and cosmic scale of The Creator.
3. The musicians, who learn the composer’s music, and bring it to life for their own enjoyment and for others to hear.
4. The audience who wants to hear and appreciate a great piece of music.

Let’s look at each of these, starting with the last and moving in reverse order…

In Service To The Audience

Without an audience, music serves very few. Maybe a few music theory nerds. Maybe just the musicians. Maybe even just the composer, if no one ever plays it or hears it.

If your only concern as a composer is what music theorists with doctorate degrees in ivory towers think of your music, you’re going to be very limited in the number of people you’re able to serve.

On the other hand, without any sophistication to your music, you may very well find an audience who enjoys plain vanilla music, but if you don’t challenge or inspire them in any way whatsoever, you fail to serve their higher nature.

As a composer, I see my audience as the average classical music or orchestral film music fan: the type of person who can enjoy listening to instrumental music, and sophisticated enough to go see the symphony or a band concert in person.

That means I’m not limited to writing light and fluffy “orchestral pop” for the masses, but nor do I want to lose my audience with harsh, unlistenable music that leaves them in a state of uneasiness (or worse).

As a whole—even if my music contains moments of high tension or instability—I want my work to be approachable. Any chaos or instability will resolve into something more musical, as traditionally understood.

I believe the biggest mistake of the avant-garde movement was forgetting about the audience experience, and only producing “navel-gazing” music that music theorists could obsess over. Much of it was interesting, at least to the mind… but not the heart. It tended to be unbalanced music, only focusing on the innovative and novel, without incorporating those ideas into a more approachable and musical whole.

Ultimately, the avant-garde movement did succeed in expanding the musical palette for composers who came after, and we owe them a debt of gratitude for that.

But the unbalanced music of the avant-garde failed as a lasting movement with a robust audience. In fact, it worse than failed: they turned off audiences to “new music” for generations.

I think only now are we beginning to recover.

That’s why I don’t concern myself with being uniquely “ground-breaking” or “innovative.” I’m not interested in re-inventing music. Composers focused on that seem to be more concerned about their image as a musical “genius” and “innovator” than serving others.

In reality, the vast majority of musical geniuses like Bach, Mozart, and nearly all the rest, composed within a pre-existing, established musical style. They didn’t reinvent music from the ground up.

What they did do was have something to say in a language already understood. They didn’t simply provide generic additions to an already overly-saturated repertoire. They channeled their craft, artistry, and deep musical knowledge into works of musical art that still inspire us to this day.

The best musical works of art appeal to both the brain and the heart, and inspire the soul. That is the ideal I aspire to as a composer, and I believe that is the best way to serve an audience.

In Service To The Musician

Without performers to bring the music to life, the only one being served is the composer. If the performers are not 100% onboard, with the support of the composer, no one will ever hear the piece, and certainly won’t hear it as intended.

Because of that, the musician is the composer’s first level of responsibility, and the first—besides himself—to be served. That means dealing with real, rather than imaginary, people. The composer might not have a direct relationship with the audience, but he should have a direct relationship with the musicians who perform his music.

Practically, that means a few things to me…

Make It Worthy Of Their Time

There are literally thousands of other great pieces musicians could be working on. At the very least, I can make sure that my piece says something, and is worthy enough to be included in that list.

I owe it to them to create something that is worth their time to practice and rehearse. I owe them my best work, every time.

Make It Easy For Them

I’ve written some hard stuff, and I ask musicians to perform some difficult or tricky passages from time to time. So I’m not referring to composing technically easy music, unless it’s educational music appropriate for a certain grade level.

I mean making it as easy as possible for them to perform, which means several things…

• Idiomatic Parts: My musical demands should be reasonable, and along the lines of what that instrument is capable of doing, and typically asked to do, rather than expecting unidiomatic virtuoso skills only a world-class artist could pull off. If I do ask for them, there should be a good reason for it. That means I must be continually working to better understand each instrument I write for.
• Clear Notation: Secondly, I want to make sure that my notation is as clear and unambiguous as possible. That means using standard notation rather than esoteric symbols, unless accompanied by an explanation.
• Conscientious Parts: I want to make sure that my parts look beautiful, are easy to read, free of collisions, have coordinated page turns, and cues in long periods of rest. This is a big one, because it takes a lot of time and work. There is no notation program in existence that automatically creates clean, well-prepared parts. But taking the time makes it a lot easier for the musicians, and communicates that I care about them.
• Beautifully Engraved Score: I can also make sure the score looks beautiful, like it was engraved, that it’s legible without squinting, with every bar numbered, and that I’ve provided necessary background info on the piece, or any performance notes. This greatly helps the conductor.
• Being Personally Available: I also feel that the least I can do is make myself available, as far as I’m able, to anyone wishing to perform my music to answer any questions they have about the work, or the performance of it.

Music is a joint venture between composer and performer, which is something I come to appreciate more and more with every passing year. The composer serves the musicians as much as the musicians serve the composer.

In Service To The Composer Within

Jesus said all the law and the prophets (all the “rules” of how to live) can be summed up in two statements: 1) love God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength… and 2) love others as much as you love yourself.

It’s important to love yourself, just not at the expense of others. And it’s important to love others, but not at the expense of yourself.

I believe the degree to which we can love others is a measure of the degree to which we love ourselves. Not in a selfish egoistic way, but through unconditional acceptance of yourself as The Creator made you, and through a sincere effort to improve yourself in every way, while accepting where you are now.

That’s why I believe that as a composer, I have a duty to my own artistic integrity and sense of authenticity by composing music that brings me joy, and that I would love to hear. It just has to be balanced with the needs of the musicians, and the needs of the audience.

I also feel it is important for me to devote time to teaching younger generations of composers and musicians. At first, it may seem odd to mention that in a section about serving yourself. But hear me out…

I’ve found two things are true when I teach others:

1. It brings me great joy when a student has a sincere desire to learn, and makes progress as a result of my teaching.
2. Teaching forces me to think more deeply, and learn a subject more thoroughly, than I otherwise would. When you teach, you learn.

There is a deep spiritual lesson here I wish I would have understood years ago: by serving others, you serve yourself. And you serve yourself best through serving others.

I believe a full understanding of that, and incorporating it fully into your life, is the key to happiness and fulfillment.

For me, this represents a profound shift of perspective and awareness. I truly believe that had I fully understood and appreciated that as a young man 25-30 years ago—heck, even 5 years ago!—I would be much further along in my career, and could have avoided many years of frustration.

This philosophy has also changed my perspective on writing educational music.

I discovered that writing music for young musicians is a worthy and worthwhile challenge as a composer. Writing something interesting while limiting myself to simple, easy-to-play, musical figures is quite a challenge! It forces me to be more disciplined and organized in my thinking and musical choices. It makes me a better composer.

When you serve others, you serve yourself.

In Service To The Creator & Our Higher Nature 

I believe we are literally made of music, which is something I wrote about here. That’s why music affects us in such deeply profound ways, to the very core of our being. It can lift us up into heights of joy and ecstasy, or pull us down into darkness and despair.

Compare, for example, “Jupiter” from The Planets versus Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima. 

Music is inherently spiritual. But it's not necessarily sacred. You don’t have to write specifically “sacred” music or “religious” music for it to be sacred. You just have to write in service of our higher nature, focusing on positive states rather than negative ones.

I feel that as a composer, I have a sacred responsibility to “lift up” rather than “pull down.” That’s why I prefer to write music that lifts our spirits and emotions upward rather than down into the depths.

That does not mean it’s all “flowers and rainbows.”

Life in inherently dramatic. It has its ups and downs. Highs and lows. Moments of triumph and moments of despair. In fact, our moments of darkness and despair carry the seeds of our future triumph. And without that roller coaster ride, life—and music—would be quite static and boring!

Music can be a powerful representation of that journey. Personally, I believe the journey is eternal, and one that moves to ever-higher levels of understanding and awareness, pulled like a magnet toward the Infinite, Ultimate Source Of All Creation throughout all time and beyond time for all eternity.

That makes me the opposite of the nihilist, who believes nothing matters, nothing means anything, and one day it will all end with no meaning whatsoever. We’ll just disappear into nonexistence.

What a dark and depressing thought! It makes no sense to me. I believe the existence and love of The Creator is obvious all around us—if you choose to see it. 

So as someone striving to serve more than just my egoic self, my sincerest desire is for my music to ultimately be in service of The Creator, which means being of service to our higher nature—the part of us that is drawn upward toward the light of wisdom, love, joy, understanding, and awareness.

Service Comes Full Circle

I don’t believe service is about sacrificing your own needs on the alter of “self sacrifice.” Instead, true service always comes back around full circle.

You reap what you sow. Eastern mystics called it “karma,” and I believe karma is very real. 

Creating music can be an act of service, if you choose to make it one, where everyone benefits…

• The composer serves the musicians and the audience through composing music worthy of being performed and heard.
• The musicians serve the composer and the audience by performing the piece to the best of their ability, and bringing it to life for the audience.
• The audience serves the musicians and composer through their moral and financial support, which allows the cycle to continue.

The idea of composing as an act of service has been on my mind for quite some time, and some aspects of it have been with me since I first began composing. But overall, it was a nebulous idea that wasn’t fully formed until I sat down to write this article.

This is why I enjoy writing. It gives me an opportunity to solidify my thoughts, in the way that composing solidifies musical ideas. The more you work on a piece, the more ideas appear and can be incorporated into your work, or left for another work down the road. It clarifies thinking and ideas.

For that reason, it took me about a month to write this article. It wasn’t a simple matter of quickly pumping out “content.” It forced me to meditate on the subject, think it through, and flesh out the idea. 

I’m sure my thoughts will continue to develop around this topic. Do you have any thoughts you’d like to add? I’d love to see your comment below.

Until next time.

-Aaron