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5-Day Composition Clarity Masterclass ✍️

The reason so many of us struggle with composing music is a lack of clarity - we don't know where to start, or how to develop and finish our ideas.

Over the next 5 days, I'll give you five proven concepts to help eliminate creative overwhelm and get you started.

Table of Contents:

Intro: Getting Started
I. The Power of Limitations
II. Music is Modular
III. Linear Writing, pt 1 - Melodies
IV. Linear Writing, pt. 2 - Chord Progressions
V. The Power of Using a Model

Getting Started

Whether you're just starting out as a composer or have been writing music for years, I'm sure you've experienced the daunting task of overcoming the blank page.

We've all been there.

But composing music isn't a magical process. It's a process of trial and error. This is good news.

It means there are actions we can take to eliminate the overwhelm and improve our craft.

That's the goal of this guide.

The concepts I share with you here are the ones that I actively use to make my own music. They're the same ones that helped me get started writing music with more clarity.

Disclaimer:

As with anything in life, you will get out of this what you put into it. While they are extremely helpful, these aren't magical concepts - they require consistent practice to be most effective.

However, they will certainly give you a place to start.

I. The Power of Limitations

 

When we start to write music, there are seemingly limitless options. So it’s our job to narrow those options - to make the path forward more clear.

We do this through the use of self-imposed LIMITATIONS.

Limitations aren’t creative dampeners. They serve more like the crystals of a laser. They focus the beam - in this case, they focus our creativity.
 
In traditional western harmony, scales, modes, and key signatures are limitations. We don't play all the notes, we chose which ones to leave out.
 
Over time and through repeated experimentation, we start to identify some of our favorite ways to limit ourselves. This becomes our taste. Our taste becomes our artistic voice.
 
We can use limitations in a number of ways:

  1. Form/Structure - adhering to some sort of structure gives us a canvas we can decorate with our own ideas. In music, we call this structure, FORM.

  2. Instrumentation/Sound Design - in modern production, the sounds we use are more pliable than ever. This introduces more options and often more confusion. But we can think of our sound palette like an orchestra or a band. The sounds themselves may not be traditional, but we can limit how many colors we have competing for the same space.

  3. Note Selection - the fewer the notes, the more clear the writing must be. We often think that big, climactic moments need huge chords with many notes doubled in multiple parts, but excessive doubling actually weakens a chord. Limiting to three, two, or even one voice forces us to think linearly. It makes our writing stronger and allows for more clarity.

You may be noticing a pattern. We're aiming for clarity.
 
If we can express our ideas clearly, we have the best chance of our music delivering the emotional impact we intend.
 
If everything is happening all at once, nothing feels important.
 
Let's look at this example from one of my favorite composers, Maurice Ravel.
 
Video Link with score
 
In his famous string quartet, notice how he passes melodies from one instrument to the other. You don't have to be able to read the score flawlessly to notice this.
 
Often, when one or two instruments are very busy, the other two are more subdued. This serves the same purpose as focusing a camera lens. In order for the in-focus subject to be noticeable, everything else must be blurred.
 
By limiting the elements in our music that aren't "the main thing," we draw focus to what we want to be heard.
 
Looking more closely at the first movement, it seems as if Ravel is using fragments of melodies he's already established and writing variations around them.
 
This serves two purposes:
  1. Giving the composer strong material to work with
  2. Grounding the listener in material they're already familiar with
By using these existing melodies as transitions, ligatures, and bridges, the entire piece feels cohesive.
 
You may have heard "less is more" used in relation to composition. This is what it means.
 
Music is modular in nature. One piece of music is made up of several smaller sections. It's our job as composers to fit them together as seamlessly as possible.
 
Tomorrow, we'll take a closer look at one of my own pieces that demonstrates this approach well. Specifically, it will show you how to create a contrasting B Section from existing material, so that the whole piece still feels connected.

II. Music is Modular

Music is made up of sections. Often, those sections can be broken down into even smaller sections.

Most of us can probably relate to coming up with a really cool 4 bar loop or 8 bar phrase and then.....having no idea where to go from there.

Today, we'll look at some techniques to help us create a contrasting section that also feels connected to what we've already written. 

We've heard that we need to come up with some kind of a "B Section."

But what does that even mean? What makes a good B Section?? Who says songs can't just be 18 seconds long???

Been there. Even quite recently.

 

That's cool, but now what?

 

While working on a recent, seemingly simple piano piece, I encountered this problem yet again.

You can give it a listen here if you'd like to hear some of the things we'll talk about.

I had, what I felt was a very strong melodic idea - simple, conversational, highly memorable without feeling cliché....it ticked all my favorite boxes.

But then I ran into a problem - it needed another section (!)

After the cold sweats subsided I started to experiment with my own mental checklist of what SHOULD constitute an effective B Section:

  1. Some sense of relationship to the existing material (so that it didn't feel like a new piece entirely)

  2. Some unique characteristic that would make it distinguishable from what I had already done.

As you can see, this is a pretty fine line to walk.

 

Saved from Cliche Writing by an Actual Cliche

 

Then I remembered the largely misunderstood words to live by "less is more."

Maybe I could keep that left hand pattern I had already established as a throughline to connect the two main sections together?

Ok. That's fine, but how do I create something that sets this section apart from the first? How about faster, continuous rhythmic motion in the right hand part? Where I had mostly quarter notes and longer note values before, now I'll have unrelenting 8ths to give this section more energy.

Could I use some of the melodic material I already had and felt was really strong in a new way? What if that opening melodic gesture became a transition in the B Section?

Better yet, what if the 2nd theme of the A Section could also serve as connective tissue in the B Section?

Now we're getting somewhere.

 

Simple, but not Simplistic

 

So, what seems on the surface to be a simple little piano waltz is actually fairly complex once we peel back the layers.

Simple can be sophisticated, but here's the real test - I hope no one notices any of this upon hearing it for the first time.

I would rather it be beautiful than interesting.

All of these devices are part of the craft of composition, but I feel my main job as a composer and artist is to take the listener on an emotional journey.

The tools and the craftsmanship should serve THAT goal, rather than my own ego.

III. Linear vs. Vertical, Pt. 1 - Melodic Writing

 

Day 3: Linear vs. Vertical Writing (Part 1 - Melodic Writing)

Most popular music today is written vertically. Songwriters think of chords as blocks - jumping from one to the next.
 
If we want to set ourselves apart in some way, we can strive for a more horizontal way of thinking about chord progressions and melodies.
 
We'll start with melodies because there will be several points that will carry over into tomorrow's discussion of linear chord progressions.
 

Melodies are Memorable

 

In the genres of music I typically exist within, melody writing is largely out of style.
 
First, I think we need to more clearly define what a melody is. Not all pieces of music contain a melody, and that's not a criticism (not all music needs a melody).
 
But I think it's important to point out that modern film scoring and genres like the oddly named "modern classical" have largely moved away from melody in favor of texture.
 
Strong melodies are challenging to write. The best ones stick with us for a long time - longer than anything else in fact.
 
While it might be a bit out of style today, there's no denying its effectiveness.
 
There's something to be said for embracing things that are considered old-fashioned. When you do, at some point YOU end up sounding like the one who's innovating because you aren't simply following the latest trends.
 
You're relying on timeless techniques that have already lasted centuries, but most people have forgotten.
 

What is a Melody?

 

A melody is a single line (phrase) that tells a musical narrative.
 
It's linear in nature. Like any good story, it has shape, inflections, maybe an unexpected plot twist or two.
 
There are a few devices we can use to achieve this kind of musical storytelling:
 
  • First, we can make sure our melody is singable. We remember things that we can sing or hum along with, and one way to take this idea from the abstract to musically applicable is to write with small intervals - maybe even mostly stepwise motion:

 

  • But we want our story to actually go somewhere right? It needs shape, and if we repeat the same notes too many times within one melodic phrase, we start to center the melody around those notes. This can start to feel like we aren't actually going anywhere - just around in circles. If you're a writer, you want to avoid using the same descriptive words over and over because it starts to feel overly repetitive and boring to the reader. The same is true in our melodies.
  • We've got our singable line, and we've avoided centering it around one or two notes, but it still feels a bit too predictable. We need a plot twist. For melodies an effective technique to achieve this is adding a leap. Because the rest of our melody is made up of smaller intervals and stepwise motion, a leap can provide an impactful point of emphasis. Music is largely about contrast, so the moment you do the opposite of whatever you've established, it's going to stand out. The melody is still singable, but now has a unique characteristic that's going to help it stand out even more. Notice the leaps in the following example:

  • We can also use rhythmic contrast to emphasize points in the melody. By placing motion and stillness appropriately, we can control how the melody "breathes" - ramping up intensity at important moments and pulling back the reigns as we approach the end of a phrase. The listener will appreciate these opportunities to catch their breath. Remember, if everything is always happening, nothing is really happening - we need moments of intensity to fully appreciate the moments of calmness and vice versa. 

A Musical Conversation

 

You may be noticing that this melodic idea almost feels conversational in nature.
 
The phrases have a natural inflection to them that's similar to the way we speak to one another.
 
This is often described as "question and answer" or "call and response."
 
Simply put, it occurs when one phrase has an upward inflection and sounds incomplete and the following phrase resolves it and feels like it completes the musical thought.
 
It kind of makes sense why we remember this structure so well considering it's how we communicate in everyday life.
 

Modular Melodies

 

Wait a minute, it seems like melodies are sort of modular in nature and consist of smaller phrases we can group together in a variety of ways or rearrange completely in almost endless variations.
 
What we might have thought of as one melody is actually made of several "chunks" of musical information. If you've ever memorized a phone number you can probably see where I'm going with this.
 
"Chunking" is the process by which the brain divides large pieces of information into smaller...well, chunks.
 
This makes things easier for us to remember. When you pair this sort of phrase chunking with well-placed repetition (chosen through the composer's taste and the process trail and error), you have a recipe for a melody that is going to stick with your listener in all the best ways.
 

Conclusion

So, to put it in its simple terms, melodies utilize a lot of devices that our brains naturally gravitate towards. It stands to reason that we would remember them long after we've forgotten other musical elements.
 
And while they may no longer by "in style" in certain genres, I think in an age which is extremely saturated with new music, it may not be the worst idea in the world to look to things that not everyone else is doing.
 
In tomorrow's email, we'll take a look at how some of these same concepts can be taken and used in our chord progressions.

 

 

IV. Linear vs. Vertical, Pt. 2 - Chord Progressions

 

Today, we're going to take a look at two elements we just learned about strong melodic writing and apply them to help our chord progressions come to life.

 

Chords as a Group of Melodies

 

Let's start by not thinking of chords as a single vertical block of notes.
 
It’s called a chord “progression” after all, which means no chord exists in isolation.
 
It’s really about how we get from one to another. If we redistribute the notes a bit, they can start to seem like a bunch of melodies played together.
 
This is a concept that comes from ensemble writing, like a choir or a string quartet - each singer or player is responsible for their own part or independent "melody" and when all those parts or lines are played together, that's what creates the vertical "chord."
 
For this example, I'm going to limit myself to just three voices/notes. I could do something with root position triads like this (demonstrate vertical chords) but what if I did something like this instead (example)
 
 

Stealing two concepts from melody writing

 

1.   Singability

Writing melodies that are singable almost always leads to melodies that are more memorable. But how does that relate to chord progressions? To oversimplify for the sake of demonstration - linear, stepwise motion or smaller intervals.
 
If you've ever studied piano, you've probably seen something like this.
 
 
This particular chord progression....moves from the I chord to the IV chord to the V chord then back to the I chord. You might notice though, that these don't look like our regular snowman triads.
 
If we were to play this chord progression in all root position triads, it would look like this.
 
 
Notice how unnatural and awkward that looks. We're leaping all over the place.
 
But by using inversions (taking the same notes of the chord and swapping them around) each of the three notes in the progression seems to go on a little melodic journey, rather than jumping around at random.
 
If we were singing each part, it would make sense and feel natural - it's almost like we're thinking about a horizontal line instead of a series of vertical chords.... we did it!
 
2.   Save leaps for emphasis
 
Hang on, we're not quite done with melodies just yet.
 
Effective melodies have this linear feel that we've just described - they tell a story.
 
We mentioned that a singable melody tends to have lots of stepwise motion, BUT that doesn't mean that we don't use larger leaps, it means that we save our larger leaps for emphasis.
 
This serves as a kind of "plot twist" in our musical narrative. Thanks melodies, we'll be taking that concept for our progressions too.
 
If you want to emphasis a certain chord, you can maximize its impact by having mostly stepwise or closer motion leading up to it. Then if you have a larger leap up or down to that new chord it is absolutely going to stand out.
 
Notice how this example has a very linear shape. Each phrase has its own rise and fall, giving it more sense of direction. Larger leaps are used judiciously, and often the outer parts more in opposite directions (contrary motion) for greater sense of line independence.
 

 

Line Independence

 

Not only does this method make our progressions more interesting, we also have more options due to the independence of each part. If I write 4 independent parts, I could play any two of them together and it should still work. This kind of writing takes more time, but allows us to get more mileage out of our material.
 
In this example, I'm only using the two outer parts from the example above:
 
You can apply this technique to any genre and you'll get results that stand out from the crowd.
 
You can take this approach and apply it to a synth arp. Arpeggios are just "broken" chords. If we arrange the chord progression in this linear way, we can get some unique results simply by arpeggiating them.
 
 

Writing 3D Chord Progressions

 

"We listen in 3 dimensions."
 
This came from my composition teacher - who used this phrase to point out that if you're writing a series of chords, you aren't only listening to one chord at a time.
 
The chord in the present has a direct relationship to the chord that came before it, and implies the chord that will follow it.
 
Essentially, we're always playing with the listeners expectations. Our next chord can meet the listener’s expectations, disappoint them, or exceed and surprise them.
 
The thing we have to be careful of here is spoiling an upcoming chord with the ones that precede it. To put that simply if your current chord has three notes and two of them are the same as your next chord - you've telegraphed that next chord, and it won't be as impactful.
 
My teacher was always looking for what he called “fresh” chord changes that feel surprising yet inevitable.
 
 

Keeping a consistent harmonic language

 

Often when we start to understand hearing in 3 dimensions and get really paranoid about not spoiling an upcoming harmony, we overcorrect and think "I'll show 'em...they'll never see this coming."
 
We might jump from a fairly functional tertian harmony to serialism, or tone clusters without warning.
 
This is a bit like starting a sentence in French and somewhere in the middle switching to German. Nothing wrong with either language, but they don't make a lot of sense in the same sentence.
 
It can be intentional, especially if you're writing to picture or it's dictated by an external narrative, but I think most of the time it comes from insecurity and feeling like we HAVE to do something edgy and experimental with our progressions.

Often, simple and honest is actually the most difficult path and requires the most trial and error to get right. It's really a difficult line to walk, but no one ever said this was supposed be easy.

 

V. Use a Model

 

As we've already discussed, most pieces of music are made up of smaller sections. In day 2 of this course, we talked about how these sections can be moved around to create the "form" of a piece.

You're probably familiar with a few common musical forms already.
 
Most popular songs follow some slight variation of this form:
 
Verse, Chorus, Verse, Chorus, Bridge, Chorus
 
Think of all the songs that follow that same structure, yet find ways to be creative within that structure. This is because limitations focus our creativity.
 
 

"Change all the notes..."

 

 
One of my first assignments as a young composition student was to take a Bach three part invention and "change all the notes." This made no sense to me at the time because I wanted to write something groundbreaking and "original."
 
What was the point of this exercise?
 
My teacher knew that I could learn a tremendous amount by having Bach make a lot of decisions for me. Bach had already set the number of parts and the way they fit together rhythmically. He had set the overall form of the piece.
 
All I had to figure out was how to decorate this pre-existing, well thought out canvas with my own melodic ideas. This made the process much less overwhelming than starting out with unlimited options.
 
The goal was to learn from a master composer, and also to learn to use a model as inspiration when starting a new piece.
 
 

Inspiration vs. Plagiarism

 

 
We aren't trying to pass off someone else's work as our own.
 
Ideally, we should have several influences to draw from. That unique combination of influences becomes your musical taste. When you try to combine all those influences in your own unique way, you begin to develop your own artistic voice.
 
The more you practice this, the more YOU your work becomes.
 
 

Example

 

 
Use my Waltz in G Minor as your model.
 
You don't have to write in the same style or even with the same instrumentation, but simply take the overall form to use as a guide or framework.
 
I've colored the major sections, as well as the smaller themes within each section to make it easy to identify. Here's that link to listen to the piece again for your reference.
 
 
This piece is in a simple ABA form.
 
But as you can see, within each larger section are smaller sections (themes).
 
As we discussed in Day 2, I've used fragments of my A section in my B section (shown visually above).
 
Less is more.
 
 

Exercise:

 

 
Use this ABA model to write your own short piece. It doesn't have to be lengthy or complex. Even if you don't write this style of music, learning to write using a few of the concepts I've laid out in this course will still help you.
 
These techniques are actionable and time-tested. They will help give your music CLARITY, and with that clarity you can deliver a more focused emotional impact on your listener.
 
If you'd like to see how I use these very same concepts in my own music, I have a video course that will walk you through my process. If you are a visual learner like me, this is the best way to learn these techniques - through observation.
 
Learn More About the In-Depth Video Course