Behind the Score

"Everyone could teach me what the theory was, but no one was able to teach me how  I should assemble that theory into a good piece of music"

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 Being a music enthusiast as a kid, I took my first “official” music composition lesson at the age of 10. While I was an okay child pianist, becoming a lifelong composer had always been my dream as a kid. After spending a year learning intervals, chords, scales, and part-writing, my instructor suggested that I start writing music using the theories we had studied. Standing in front of a huge piece of manuscript paper, I was puzzled. “Exactly how and when am I supposed to use all this stuff I’ve learned?”

Fast forward 10 years later. As a music college student, I was pounded with a huge range of theories: modal harmony, compound chords, reharmonization, etc. School lectures were good, and theory books useful, yet the same question lingered in my mind. Everyone could teach me what the theory was, but no one was able to teach me how I should assemble that theory into a good piece of music. Sure, learning what modes are and how they are structured helped in becoming a better musicologist but it didn’t do much in terms of becoming a better composer. Learning the diminished scale’s structure was one thing but actually applying the scale in practical writing was another. 

In order to overcome my frustration, I started transcribing works by famous film and classical composers that intrigued me and kept notes of the theories I learned through transcription. There were many elements I took notice of: Bernard Hermann and Alex North’s use of bitonality in music, chromaticism in Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé Suite No. 2, the unique tonal structure of David Raksin’s work for the film Laura (1944), compound scales in the music of John Williams and Alan Silvestri, the flawless rhythmic deception of Don Davis’ soundtrack for The Matrix (1999), and the list goes on. 

Many of these fine works helped me to glue together the scattered dry theories in my head, bringing them to life. Studying this way immensely improved my ability as a composer and connected the gap between what I learned through books and what I was hearing. 

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In the year 2012, with a degree in composition in hand, I began my career as a freelance musician writing for indie films, working on petty sound design and writing jingles for local corporations. After spending another year working at a music game app development company, I was lucky enough to land a role as a full-time in-house composer at a video game company that I always wanted to work at, and where I continue to work.

Our book-in-progress

Working as an in-house composer has changed the way I write and view composition. There is not much space for “no” and I don’t have the leisure of selecting work to my own taste. Time is always the main concern since writing music isn’t my sole duty. It is just a part of my many other daily tasks including endless meetings as well as booking and attending recording sessions, to name just a couple (and not forgetting the many coffee breaks with my coworkers!) This, of course, is not ideal, but it is the reality of the job. Such constraints meant I had no choice but to pursue my study further to develop my skills as a composer. Not only did I need to write faster, but I had to learn to deliver diverse emotions more accurately since the requests were often specific: a “dry atmosphere but with an air of tension,” or an “expression of hysteria but not anger.” (At the time, listening to and examining the music of early twentieth-century composers such as Stravinsky or Schoenberg offered direction.) Simultaneously, I took the chance to widen my musical spectrum by getting accustomed with less familiar styles including Flamenco, Arabian, Celtic, Oriental, etc. My study focused not only on understanding the harmonic ideas behind the music but understanding the way instruments and their timbre were used to control the audience’s perception. 

I documented the insights I gained during this period in my music journal which I’ve been keeping since my college years. Although I no longer need to reference my journal for each and every piece that I write, I still look up my notes for their wisdom and for inspiration. Now it has become the original source of the courses presented on this website so I can share that knowledge with you. 

For the past four years, I and my wonderful colleagues actively working as admired composers, performers, and faculty members, have worked to flesh out dry memos with musical examples that can contextualize theory in an approachable manner which is applicable to actual songwriting.

Our goal was to create an academic resource which will help students to enjoy the learning process and from which they can easily adapt ideas to come up with their own. We’ve only selected the topics that we believe to be the most practical to modern media music composers which can be readily used upon finishing each course. 

We all understand that there is no magical path to becoming a great composer overnight. As with all things, the best composers improve their craft through practice and constant learning. One of the joys of learning music theory is unraveling the mystery behind the sound which you had only ‘understood’ with your ears beforehand. Once the theory is assimilated and you have a full grasp of the concept, you can start analyzing and applying it to your own music (and even determine when to throw theory out). 

While there’s no shortcut to becoming a great composer, we believe there’s always a better academic approach that can help you through the process. Our aim has always been that the courses presented here offer new perspectives on songwriting and composition, and most importantly provide you an opportunity to learn music theory in the context of actual music. We hope our efforts mean your journey to becoming a great musician is an enjoyable one.

Jay Jong Lee