Interview by June Kinoshita - May 1998

In many ways it was a lucky accident that brought me to work with Andre Heller on Meteorite - the fact that some members of his team saw a television broadcast about my "Brain Opera" project at the time of its presentation at Ars Electronica in Linz in September 1996. But I think that certain similarities in fundamental philosophy - and the evolution of our individual work - made it natural, if not inevitable, for Andre Heller and I to decide to work together. Ever since my childhood, I have been obsessed with the idea of treating serious and substantial subjects in a direct, simple, and unpretentious way. This came partly from growing up in New York during the period of Leonard Bernstein's Young People's Concerts, and partly from my parents themselves: My father is an expert in computer graphics and quite a lover of popular culture, and my mother is a pianist devoted to the European intellectual tradition while also active in developing new ways to teach music creativity to children. Throughout my growing up, I tried to combine popular and serious forms of art and entertainment, composing and performing "crossover" music in both classical and rock forms. And although I studied and designed technology for music in the rarefied atmospheres of Juilliard, Stanford, MIT, and IRCAM (part of Paris' Centre Pompidou), I gradually became interested in using this technology to make music available to everyone - not just as passive listeners but as active participants. It is one of the big paradoxes of our time that although music surrounds us more constantly than ever (on the car radio, in our Walkman, as background to dining, doing homework, etc.), our relationship to it is more and more passive. Not only are less and less people learning musical instruments, but - I believe - fewer people actually listen to music carefully these days. Yet music is the most visceral and direct of all the arts, and can give great enjoyment - and the possibility of individual creative expression - to every single person, regardless of age, education, "talent", or whatever. And surprisingly, technology can help make music more accessible to everyone - by eliminating the need to learn a difficult musical instrument, or to master complicated music theory and techniques. The Brain Opera convinced me that anyone can be expressive and creative with music if given the right instruments - ones that tap into natural human movements and feelings that possesses in an individual way. This approach interested Andre Heller and led him to contact me. What he did not know was that my initial conception for the Brain Opera consisted of a three-story building - a kind of imaginary model of the mind - that the public would walk through, exploring both instruments and music in a physical, three-dimensional journey. So when I learned about the Meteorite project, I was immediately attracted by the opportunity of trying to realize such a vision.

2. Could you describe your approach to the music for the Meteorite project?

I have composed and produced all of the music and sound for Meteorite with three primary goals in mind: first, to enhance and intensify the experience of each space and room, giving each its own sonic quality and musical themes; second, to order and interleave these musical "movements" so that the music provides continuity and direction as each visitor moves through Meteorite; and third, to create a beautiful sonic experience which is meaningful and moving on its own terms.

3. You've described "Meteor Music" as a 45-minute work in eight movements, with a movement for each of the four chambers, and the other four movements being heard in the cavern. Yet each audience member can walk through at his or her own pace, spending as much or as little time hearing each movement. Is there actually a clearly defined beginning and end to each movement, or can one jump in and out at any point and still get a coherent musical experience?

Creating a musical work that could be heard and "interpreted" differently by each person was of course a challenge, especially if the music were to be worth listening to and not just "elevator music." Ordinarily, my music has a very strong sense of development and progression, and each of my concert pieces or CD's depicts a kind of psychological, emotional, or spiritual journey. With Meteorite, I wanted the overall effect to still be this kind of journey, but I had to achieve this in a new way. Each room and space has a particular kind of music, a "movement", that corresponds to the look and feel of that room. For the VideoDom, the music is fragmented, layered, fun and also mysterious. In the Red Egg, the music is calm and quiet, simple at first but rich and delicate on careful listening. In LiteShade, crazy and humorous bursts of noise (often combining orchestral instruments with kitchen and animal sounds) accompany quick blasts of light. In the TransFlow Room - which was designed entirely by my team and I - swirling streams of music and images are "created" by the public, rapid and varied but always delicate and transparent. In each of these rooms, the music has different states but no absolute beginning and end - or rather I composed the music so that the last few seconds of each piece are designed to overlap with its beginning, so each piece starts again as it is ending. Each piece develops and transforms on its own in gentle ways (so it is worth staying to hear the whole thing!), but hearing the beginning or ending is not important. It is more important to move from one piece to the next, thus experiencing the contrasts, mood changes, juxtapositions, and relationships that add richness to the journey. So each person can decide on the length of the scherzo, adagio, finale, etc., and that is part of the fun.

4. What about the music that connects the different rooms?

Besides the musical "movements" heard in each room, I have also composed special music for the connecting, cavernous space in Meteorite. In some ways, this is the most exciting space of all, filled with ramps and escalators, projections, and the glorious, suspended geometric rooms themselves. I produced a special composition, called "Meteor Drone", divided into four parts, which gives a unified feel to the entire Meteorite space. A low, pulsating tone is heard on the elevated bridge just before entering the Meteorite cavern. As one moves into the cavern, this tone begins to reveal delicate elements not heard at first - string sounds, low voices, harmonic overtones, and even whispered invitations to come and explore Meteorite (with an open mind - and without fear - of course!). Little by little, these "interior" sounds become more and more prominent, revealing rapidly dancing string melodies. Finally, these delicate sounds evolve into a soaring cello melody, heard on leaving Meteorite, which I consider the kind of "theme song" for the whole experience.

5. What is the shape of the entire voyage through Meteor Music? How do the movements and Meteor drone relate to one another? Why does the TransFlow room - the only interactive space - come at the end?

For me, the experience of Meteorite is one of astonishment, exploration, and discovery. No one knows what to expect in this new building - is it a museum, a concert, a theme park? - and the exterior architecture purposely reveals little about the wonders within. My Meteor Music dramatizes this experience. In a kind of overture, the first low tones of "Meteor Drone 1" announce the entrance into a strange and unknown world, slightly ominous, dark, and mysterious. Soft whispers are soon heard, calling to each person individually to come and explore. As with a brilliant sonata movement, the VideoDom Music announces all of the main themes (in this case melodies, harmonies, timbres, voices, sounds from "far away", etc.) in rapid succession, often overlapping, intriguing and fun, but not yet fully assimilated. "Meteor Drone 2" is heard while walking between the VideoDom and the Red Egg; the low pulsating tone starts to unravel, preparing the visitor to hear delicate and unexpected things. Which is what one hears in the Red Egg; my "Red Meditation" music is meant to be the slow movement of this 3D-symphony, a place to relax, reflect, and rest. Hopefully it is also a place where alert minds and ears will hear and feel the many subtle voices and instrumental sonorities that color this piece in surprising ways. After this meditative experience, one enters the strong sensory stimulation of LiteShade. Instead of dreaming, one jumps, laughs, gestures, poses - in hopes of having a fascinating shadow form captured when the brilliant light flashes. My "LiteShade Music" enhances this experience, by creating tension and anticipation for the flash and then a sense of surprise and fun when the flash does come. Leaving LiteShade, "Meteor Drone 3" can be heard, especially if one listens carefully: Hundreds of very quick cello melodies dart in and out, changing harmony so fast that all fuses into a blur of delicate sonic color. Now one is ready for the "TransFlow Room" - time to create your own music and images. After exploring and starting to become familiar with the special environment of Meteorite, TransFlow provides the chance to bring together most of the elements heard and seen elsewhere on the visit; after being surrounded with amazing sensory impressions, one has the chance to make some new ones; after the personal journey of exploring each room in turn, the last room is a communal experience, a single instrument that is played together by everyone who comes inside. TransFlow is the place where community is formed and where communication happens, so it is a fitting final stop on the Meteorite journey. Well, not quite the last stop. The fullest Meteorite melody - "Meteor Drone 4" is heard on exiting the TransFlow Room and then the building, with hopes that this melody and the fulfillment of which it sings will stick in the mind, providing a pleasant memory and an enticement to visit again.....and to listen further.

6. In the TransFlow room, what aspects of audience activity are being measured by the sensors? How did you decide which parameters are meaningful?

I worked closely with my colleague Chris Dodge at the MIT Media Lab to design the interactivity for the TransFlow Room. Taking the general theme of energy and its transformation and circulation, we imagined a room where various elements would always be in motion, with the kind of motion and character of elements controllable by the public. We wanted to use simple sensors that could control many things. We decided to use a technology which we had originally developed for the Rhythm Tree instrument in the Brain Opera. About 100 rubber pads, each hand-molded, are mounted on four metallic wall panels. Computer graphic images are shown on screens between these panels, and also on tiny computer monitors embedded into the interactive panels. A final computer monitor is placed face-up in a Conic Table near the exit. A "flow" of sounds and images is always taking place, clockwise from the entrance door, around the room from left to right, and back out the door. Sounds or images are started by touching any of the rubber sensor pads. Touching softly makes gentle activity; touching harder makes greater activity. And the texture activity changes as one moves clockwise around the room. The gentlest sounds and simplest images can be produced on the first panel to the left on entering the room; the next panel "perturbs" and complexifies everything; the third panel adds energy, creating pounding rhythms and fragmented images; the last panel calms everything down again, creating synchrony, order and simplicity. We decided to give a specific, recognizable function to each individual pad, so each is worth exploring. Also, it was important to give a different "feel" to each physical part of the room, so that one hears and sees quickly what can be created where. And we tried to connect the "feel" of the music with that of the images, to guide visitors and also to provide a reinforcing continuity to the experience.

7. In what ways is Meteorite an outgrowth of the Brain Opera? Technologically, what lessons did you learn from the Brain Opera, and how do you apply them here?

Between July 1996 and May 1998, we showed the Brain Opera in the United States, Europe, South America, and Asia, and gave over 150 performances to incredibly diverse audiences. Those experiences convinced me that it is possible to invite large groups of people into a public space to explore, express, and create together. In every country, with every age group, with every conceivable kind of person, we generally found that people enjoyed the Brain Opera, were ready to participate, and were neither as inhibited or as exhibitionist as I feared they might be. People love to make music together, but don't have much of an opportunity to do so these days. So the general spirit of the Brain Opera is very present in Meteorite, and especially in the TransFlow Room. In TransFlow, however, we really tried to create one single instrument to be played collectively by whoever is in the room, unlike the Brain Opera which provided a collection or "orchestra" of independent instruments. Since people will only remain in the TransFlow Room for about five minutes or less, this will make it easier for each person to explore the whole experience and also for everyone in the room to work together to make beautiful sounds and images. We learned many technical lessons from the Brain Opera, and all of our software and hardware has been redesigned for Meteorite to improve robustness and simplicity. I have also worked hard to create a palette of sounds (woodwinds, harps, synthetic timbres) that mix pleasingly and with great variety, as well as a library of themes and ornamentations, to make sure that although the music will change constantly and reflect the input of as many as 30 "players", it should always sound purposeful, beautiful, and just plain "right" - or at least I think so!

8. You say you have created the "music and sound" for Meteorite. Is there a clear distinction between the two in the sonic environment of Meteorite, and what is the relationship between them?

In my creative work, I feel that I have been influenced as much by The Beatles as by Bach, as much by John Cage as by Karlheinz Stockhausen. John Cage said, of course, that all sound is music if one knows how to listen, and I think that many people have taken this to be a kind of insult to music. I don't think that's what Cage meant. Rather I think he believed that any kind of auditory experience would be more profound, more revelatory, more revolutionary, if one listened with openness, sensitivity, and attention. I do tend to use a very wide palette in my music, and this is certainly true for "Meteor Music." You will hear recognizable harmonies and melodies, and also sonic textures that are difficult to classify, often in the same "piece." Clearly pulsating rhythms (of which there actually aren't all that many in this project) give way to sound collages or undulating clouds. Just as in the past composers used different kinds of chords to create a sense of expectation, tension, release, and direction, I use sounds themselves to expand the impact of my music. Some sounds are used to quiet the mind, others to draw attention, some to stop time, others to move it forward in a frenzy. One thing is for sure: In my music, there is usually more than one thing going on at once, so that a lovely melody may creep in often unnoticed amidst nature and animal sounds, or a soprano voice might be momentarily enveloped by a wispy, multi-toned sonority. This gentle malleability and coherent diversity is very common to my music, and to how I perceive the world.

9. Let's talk about the collaborative aspects of Meteorite.

When Andre Heller first described the Meteorite project to me, the general idea had already been established and the architectural design was fairly far advanced. I understood immediately what was intended and what was possible, and began to design my music as a way of augmenting and intensifying the individual spaces and the passage through these spaces. At the same time, the final room of Meteorite was kind of a blank spot in the drawings at that stage; everyone knew that something special was supposed to happen in the last room, but nothing had been decided. Andre Heller threw out the challenge that the room should be truly interactive and controllable by the public, and that it should also have some physicality about it, and not remain a completely "virtual" or "projected" experience as is common these days. Andre Heller's overall vision for the project, as well as the extraordinary architectural renditions of Propeller-Z, were our guideline and inspiration. We were given great freedom to develop the experience within "Room 5", and I was also given great freedom to develop the overall sound concept for Meteorite. For the conception of Room 5, I worked most closely with Chris Dodge, but also with Ray Kinoshita (who had been the architect and set designer for the Brain Opera). We consulted with three other members of the original Brain Opera team, Joe Paradiso (technology design), Maggie Orth (production and interface design), and Ed Hammond (audio infrastructure). We all knew each other extremely well through our Brain Opera work, so collaboration was efficient and enjoyable. Chris and I decided on the basic concept of the room, and on principles of interaction that would unify sound and image in an interesting, imaginative, and non-literal way (literalism is always deadly in such intermedia projects). We were able to work with Ray to develop the special shape of the room and custom-designed interfaces to enhance the overall artistic effect. Once we started to have sonic or visual prototypes for the TransFlow Room and my Meteor Music, we sent this back and forth to Andre Heller and his colleagues, and even set up a website so that ideas could be exchanged. In February 1998 I visited the building site to plan the final configuration of sound distribution, and to decide on exactly how all of the elements of Meteor Music would interrelate. It was especially interesting during April and May to see all of the elements come together in Essen, to make adjustments in sound mixing and interactive "feel", and in some cases to make more fundamental changes (as in the sound and images for the VideoDom). And it will certainly be fascinating to see how the experiences evolve as people react to them and make suggestions. That, of course, is a whole different level of collaboration.

10. Can you place Meteorite in an historical context, in terms of works that explore the relationship of music to architectural space? Have there been similar works in the past? How is this different?

I have always been interested in architecture and once considered becoming an architect - probably a good thing I didn't, given my relative visual and musical talents. But I continue to be fascinated by the similar ways that abstract structure and visceral experience intersect in music and architecture. I have been interested by the many examples - especially from the Middle Ages - of musical pieces composed to mirror the buildings in which they were to be performed (although it is doubtful whether such relationships could be perceived). And there have been several celebrated buildings constructed - notably the Le Corbusier-designed Philips Pavillion at the 1958 Brussels Worlds Fair, and the series of Diatopes by Iannis Xenakis - for the audition of a particular piece of music. There have also been site-specific concerts or installations, where listeners move from room to room to "peek in" on simultaneous performances taking place. And then there is of course the Disney-style theme park ride, where one walks or is moved through a physical space with experiences changing all around. But what has influenced me more are pure architectural spaces that have an unusual relationship between what is perceived at first versus what is revealed upon exploration. One space that impresses me especially is the Bruce Goff-designed (posthumously built) Japan pavillion at the Los Angeles County Art Museum, where the contour and curving interior evolves and changes as one descends its sinuous ramps. But I do not know of any building that combines all of the above as Meteorite does. I believe that this is the first architectural space that brings the visitor on such a rich (and fun) adventure, and has a specially designed musical score to enhance and dramatize the journey. It is really a kind of walk through opera, and I hope that it is the first of many.

11. You say that you want Meteorite to be a popular experience with all kinds of audiences. Is there a danger that this will become more entertainment than art, more fun than serious?

I think that Meteorite is a new kind of work, and there isn't really a word for it yet. Is it a museum? A concert? An opera? A theme park? A video arcade? It isn't quite any of these, but incorporates elements of all of them. More importantly, Meteorite has the seriousness and depth of a work of art, but is intended to be as fun and enjoyable as a film or theme park. This is also something new, I believe. And it is a delicate balance to maintain. Ideally, Meteorite should delight and seduce, be fun and enjoyable from the first moment of entry into its strange and unique world, but the experience should not stop there. But everything in Meteorite has a great deal of subtlety and mystery. All is designed to startle the senses, but to reveal more and more with careful attention. The building itself takes time to comprehend; the experiences accumulate and resonate one with the other; the music evolves from one room to the next, leading often to surprising feelings. Although everyone will find something special to enjoy in Meteorite, I doubt very much that anyone will leave without having discovered something unexpected, without finding something new to consider, without bringing home a strong memory to reflect upon. And I think that the clarity and depth of the experience will make it a place to which people will want to return over and over.

12. What should people pay attention to while going through Meteorite, to enhance their experience?

The most important thing is to come to Meteorite with an open mind. Leave your preconceptions about museums and concerts at home. Come to enjoy and to be stimulated. Don't be afraid to explore, to spend a bit of extra time with things that you enjoy immediately, and also with things that seem strange at first. Try to remember your first impression on entering the Meteorite cavern, and compare it with your feeling on leaving the building. Think of the ramps and stairways as pages in a musical score, and the individual rooms as movements in a giant symphony. You are the conductor and can make the piece happen as quickly or as slowly as you want. Absorb the unique spirit of each room: the chaotic playfulness of the VideoDom, the restfulness of the Red Egg, the physical energy of LiteShade, the exploration and creativity of TransFlow. Ask your children to show you around and tell you what to do; they will most likely understand Meteorite right away. Grandparents probably will too, interestingly enough. Listen for melodies when you first hear only noise; listen for hidden instruments and sound colors dancing around and through melodies. As in a symphony, see if you can follow sounds and themes as they reappear in different rooms and spaces. Move left and right, backwards and forwards, to see how the sound changes. Notice all the surprising angles and shapes and light patterns in the building as you move through it. Enjoy yourself in the TransFlow Room and see how many different sounds and images you can create. See if you can influence other people in the room to play along according to your interpretation. Notice if someone else is producing a particularly interesting effect, and try to see how they are doing it. Stand in the middle of the TransFlow Room and experience the circulation of sounds and images around you. Try to remember the cello melody you will hear as you leave the building. Most importantly, don't try to analyze or "understand" Meteorite while you are inside. Explore, participate, meditate, soak in as much as you can - you'll have plenty to think about afterwards, I'm certain of that.