To my readers: I was away last week attending two performances of my composition The Days of Struggle and Discovery (In Praise of Explorers). My music was performed by the Carson City Symphony. Carson City is the capital of the state of Nevada, in the majestic and expansive western part of the United States. The Days of Struggle and Discovery was commissioned a few years ago to celebrate the bicentennial of the Lewis and Clark expedition, which set off in the early 1800′s to find a water route across the North American continent to the Pacific Northwest. While my composition celebrates the very human activity of exploration, much of my music was inspired by the beauty of land traversed by the Lewis and Clark expedition. Indeed, the expansiveness of this landscape is reflected in the beginning of my piece, where after a mysterious haziness a dramatic entrance by the horns seems to open the curtains on a majestic vista. Since much of the exploration took place by water, I often give this music a lilting, undulating pulsation. There are, however, moments when the rhythm works against this pulse, as if to suggest a boat making its way upstream. There are also passages that are more tumultuous, perhaps evoking white-water rapids. But I don't mean to put only one set of images in your mind. You may have your own equally valid associations with this music. While much of this composition is about forward momentum, there is a special, lyrical passage which occurs towards the middle of my composition. This music does not offer a sense of continuation. Rather, it is a moment of reflection, as if taking a glance backwards before continuing on. People have noted that my composition has a ‘heroic' nature about it. Indeed, I find the notion of discovery or achievement after a struggle to be heroic. I do not believe these explorations need only be geographic (that's why I didn't include Lewis and Clark in the title). I wished for my music to celebrate struggles and discoveries in many fields, in science, medicine, philosophy, and art, for example. When I am writing a composition, especially a long composition, it can feel like I'm in the middle of an ocean searching for shore. So I can relate in some modest way to what Lewis and Clark felt in the middle of an unchartered North American continent, not knowing what the next bend in the river would bring. But my sentiments reflecting journey and exploration and discovery and heroism also extend to my interest in Middle East peace. The region is undergoing its own journey (I suppose this is true everywhere), and journeys always require courage and faith. Before I conclude, I wouldn't have spent so much time on this “audio postcard” if I didn't give you a chance to hear my music. So I invite you to listen to a portion of my composition The Days of Struggle and Discovery (In Praise of Explorers) on YouTube. BM