
New little bagatelle for you today—four hands in four minutes. This is Tangent, written for the Yale Schwarzman Center and premiered in New York City last night. Thanks to the redoubtable Conor Hanick for laying down those triplets.

New little bagatelle for you today—four hands in four minutes. This is Tangent, written for the Yale Schwarzman Center and premiered in New York City last night. Thanks to the redoubtable Conor Hanick for laying down those triplets.
Pianist and professor David Kaplan, longtime friend and collaborator, wrote the following liner note for The Blind Banister, out now on Nonesuch Records:
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I first met Timo when we were still lanky college students, not as a composer, but as a prodigiously talented pianist. I remember him playing Charles Ives’s Concord Sonata on a pungent old practice room piano, storming into the piece’s clifflike sonorities and creating a tempest of sound that nevertheless conveyed something essential about the spirit and structure of this famously abstruse work. Discovering a common hobby of deliriously approximating symphonic repertoire on the piano, we quickly began finding ways to collaborate. We premiered his two-piano suite Shy and Mighty together, and he wrote Home Stretch, his first piano concerto, for my graduation recital. After nearly two decades of collaboration and friendship, this new recording of The Blind Banister (2015), Upstate Obscura (2018), and Colorful History (2021) prompts me to reflect on how much Timo’s music has developed over time, as well as what elements of his artistic voice, as pianist and composer both, were baked in from the start.
All three works here demonstrate the extent to which Timo’s music examines the compositional process. The simple ideas that undergird his pieces often comprise some unassuming and well-worn trinket found in the thrift store of tonal harmony—a perfect fifth, a trill, or a scale. Over the course of the piece, the object generates its own meaning and interest and creates a framework supporting the things we actually want to hear: gesture, melody, pulse, humor, tenderness, drama, and eloquence.
This animation of ideas reminds me of the book, Bach and the Patterns of Invention, in which Lawrence Dreyfus argues that Bach understood “invention” as the “idea behind a piece, a musical subject whose discovery precedes full-scale composition.” Borrowed from the rhetorical concept of inventio, which for Cicero and other classical thinkers meant the inspiration that sparked an oration, invention conflates the musical content with its compositional process: “A successful invention must be more than a static, well-crafted object, but instead like a mechanism… from which a whole piece of music is shaped.”
This understanding of invention describes Timo’s creative process equally well, and differentiates it from the music of composers who integrate process and content in other ways. Brahms’s developing variations and Beethoven’s organic development are two canonic examples; in the last century, Philip Glass’s early experiments with repetition and incremental change, Steve Reich’s phasing, Schönberg’s serialism, and Cage’s aleatoricism come to mind.
The Blind Banister demonstrates this integrated approach; on some fundamental level it is an entire concerto about the compositional process of revision. Disregarding an adolescent but precocious piano concerto, perhaps remembered only by a handful of millennial alumni of the Juilliard Pre-College Orchestra, Banister is Timo’s third published piece for solo piano and orchestra, following Home Stretch (2008) and Old Keys (2011). It was written for Jonathan Biss in 2015 as one of a number of response pieces to Beethoven’s own quasi-juvenilia, the Piano Concerto in B‑flat, Op. 15. Unlike Timo’s ‘re-composed’ Mozart Coronation Concerto from 2010, it is not “a pastiche or an exercise in palimpsest” (to quote the composer’s note); it instead fixates on a palimpsest from Beethoven himself—the revised cadenza he appended to the concerto two decades after its earliest performances in Bonn.
From this cadenza, Timo distills two motives: the Mannheim rocket arpeggio that launches it, and the sequence of descending scales that follow. Together, these cause Banister to ruminate on an unresolved dichotomy of rising and falling gestures. Timo explains that he started writing his own cadenza to Beethoven’s concerto, and ended up “devouring [the piece] from the inside out.” I think of whiting out a densely shaded drawing with the pencil’s eraser to create a new image in relief.
“Made of Tunes” is my fifth piano concerto, written for Aaron Diehl and the Los Angeles Philharmonic. It premieres this Friday, March 22 (the same day my third concerto, The Blind Banister, is released on Nonesuch Records).
In a way, this feels like a homecoming and a culmination. One of my first real commissions came from the LA Phil, for their long-running new music series Green Umbrella; John Adams conducted the premiere of that piece, Nightjar, and will also lead this weekend’s performances of Tunes. I’ve worked on several things with John and the LA Phil in the intervening years, including Ingram Marshall’s chamber concerto Flow. But I’ve never gotten to work with the full band on a mainstage, subscription series concert. (“Subscription series” is an odd distinction, but it’s essentially the bread and butter of orchestral programming; as a result, these concerts tend to be more musically conservative.) I don’t take such an opportunity lightly; I hope audiences consider their 27 minutes to have been well-spent.
As a kind of amuse–bouche to the week, there’s a Glass Etudes evening on Tuesday the 19th. I’ll be playing my standbys, nos. 5 & 6, as well as two that are new to my repertoire, 11 & 12.

I wrote Fiddlehead in the depths of December doldrums, and look how it turned out. This little confection will open my Carnegie program on Friday. Score available here.

Tiny Desk Concert celebrating the release of the new edition of Philip Glass’s Piano Etudes. Filmed at the NPR offices in DC about a month ago. Here I play nos. 5 & 6. Next month in Los Angeles I’ll join Maki Namekawa, Anton Batagov, Jenny Lin, and Lara Downes for a complete performance at Disney Hall.

I’m thrilled to reveal that The Blind Banister, a new album that’s been in the works, in some form, for an outrageous nine years, will be released by Nonesuch Records on March 22. You can listen to the last movement of Upstate Obscura, my cello concerto, today. The album was recorded this past summer with cellist Inbal Segev, conductor Andrew Cyr, and Metropolis Ensemble (longtime collaborators who you may remember from Home Stretch).
It’s increasingly rare, impractical, and untenable to record an orchestra in this level of detail, in a studio environment; this may very well be the last album I make in such a way. I am forever grateful to the collaborators who helped bring it into the world: Andrew Cyr and the musicians of Metropolis Ensemble, Inbal Segev, producer Silas Brown, Jonathan Biss (who commissioned and premiered The Blind Banister), Russell Hirshfield (who commissioned and premiered Colorful History), Bob Hurwitz and the team at Nonesuch Records, David Kaplan for a lyrical liner note, Jason Fulford for his enigmatic cover photo, and Ben Tousley for his elegant typography.

Here’s a real live music video for you, made during the recording session with cellist Inbal Segev for Agita a couple of years back. Jump cuts; jump scares, even! See me put my hand inside the piano and take it back out again.
Above, the view from the music table during Illinois tech. The show opens Friday; things are sounding and looking stupdendous. It’s been a joy to spend time immersed in this music, with these people. If you missed your chance at tickets for this month’s run at Bard, never fear: future productions are materializing, including one in Chicago this winter.
I’ve had to tear myself away for a few days for a long-postponed jaunt to Britt Festival in Jacksonville, OR. I’ll join Teddy Abrams and the Britt Festival Orchestra for a performance of The Blind Banister on Thursday.

I’m very pleased to help trumpet the announcement of Sufjan Stevens’s new album Reflections, a two-piano ballet score that I recorded with Conor Hanick. The brilliant video above, directed by Brian Paccione, is a performance of the first track, Ekstasis. The full album is out May 19.
In other Sufjan-related news, I’ve created new arrangements and orchestrations for his 2005 album Illinois, which has been choreographed in its entirety by Justin Peck, premiering June 23 at Bard Summerscape.
Happy new year. In an heroic act of procrastination from writing, I’ve made a new subsection of this site listing the various things I’ve written about music over the years. Thanks to all the artists and record labels who have asked me to write about their recordings; doing so always teaches me new ways to listen and think about music.