(Original posted on October 22, 1999)
If there was one “binding spell” that often troubled me when I composed in the past, it would be the question of whether I “had something to express.” What this means is the binding notion that one must first have a clear image in one’s head (not limited to auditory ones) and then strive to express it through sound.
To be honest, music doesn’t just explode into my head with a “bang.” Quite often, my pieces take shape in the same way a child might end up creating something interesting while playing with blocks.
To put it another way, I may not be accustomed to expressing, or rather, translating, visual or verbal images into sound. Every time I saw an artist say something like, “For this piece, my theme was X,” I always thought to myself, “I wonder how they can compose like that.”
Being that way, I naturally ended up thinking that “not being able to find a theme to express” was a problem. And yet, I could actually compose by playing with sounds in my head or by sitting at my instrument. So perhaps I did have a core theme, just one I wasn’t aware of.
As I pondered these things, I began to think of this as a binding spell. The times I find composing interesting are when I’m spinning sounds according to the constraints (principles/laws) I’ve accepted, and I’m watching them give rise to a certain form. It’s exactly the same situation as a child playing with blocks. The joy is in manipulating sound and in witnessing the music that is born from it.
When I first started composing, I think the very act of making progress on a piece—the joy of filling the space called time with my own hands—was what made me play with sound. In other words, the purpose was not *why* I compose, nor was it *what* I express through composition; the act of composition itself was the goal.
I feel that the pieces created in this way have the process of my enjoyment woven into them. If I were forced to name something being expressed, it would be the struggles, discoveries, and emotions of that process. But putting it into words like this, the feeling seems slightly off.
Am I still not free from this binding spell? Or perhaps, by being conscious of it as a spell, did it give birth to this different perspective within me? It seems I still have to continue composing.
