#21 Tyler Kline: Silence, space, and building a universe of sound for listeners to live in
Tyler Kline
Photo credit: Susanna Hancock
Towards the beginning of our hour-long conversation, composer Tyler Kline—also the host of the new music program Modern Notebook*—talks about wanting his music to respond to the world around him. “Life is imperfect and transient,” he says, and then mentions wabi-sabi, the Japanese aesthetic that encourages appreciation of imperfection and acceptance of impermanence.
Inspired by this philosophy, Tyler seeks to compose music that mirrors the natural rhythm of becoming and decay. He’s drawn to creating pieces that are quiet, drawn out, and spacious—sound worlds that invite contemplation.
Recent sketches
Photo: Tyler Kline
Tyler is also deeply curious about how we experience music. Often, he obscures pulse and meter, explores extended techniques and textures, and crafts gestures that evoke the natural world—pushing listeners to hear differently, more deeply.
We briefly talk about Takemitsu and the Japanese concept of “ma,” or silence between sounds (which as mentioned before on this blog is so beautifully illustrated in the children’s book The Sound of Silence by Katrina Goldsaito). Here is Takemitsu describing the concept of ma:
“A single strum of the strings or even one pluck is too complex, too complete in itself to admit any theory,” Takemitsu wrote. “Between this complex sound—so strong that it can stand alone—and that point of intense silence preceding it, called ma, there is a metaphysical continuity that defies analysis.
In its complexity and integrity this single sound can stand alone. To the listener who appreciates this refined sound, the unique idea of ma—the unsounded part of this experience—has at the same time a deep, powerful, and rich resonance that can stand up to the sound.
…the Japanese sound ideal: sound, in its ultimate expressiveness, being constantly refined, approaches the nothingness of that wind in the bamboo grove.”
Tyler then shares some other music and composers with me. He mentions Ellen Lindquist’s Mantra for gamelan and orchestra, which he says, “builds a universe of sound for listeners to live in, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to capture the magic of it ever since I first heard it.” And then he talks about Ermhoi’s album Junebug Rhapsody, which he’s “totally obsessed with”—a sound world Tyler describes as living somewhere between pop music and experimental electronic music.
Others include Anna Mieke’s album Theatre, which Tyler describes as “seem(ing) to capture some sort of magic I can’t quite describe or figure out. It’s like music that transports me to some place that doesn’t yet exist—and has me wondering: how can I convey this same sort of feeling in my music?”
He also shares Oliver Knussen’s Coursing and Dai Fujikura’s Mina.
I listen to all of them—and I’m fascinated by his choices. Each piece feels expansive, slowing time down in a way that creates space for reflection. There’s a kind of ritual in this music, something quiet and sacred, that draws me in.
Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo is currently exhibiting works by composer/artist Ryuichi Sakamoto, in “seeing sound, hearing time,” which Tyler visited recently.
Ryuichi Sakamoto (1952-2023) continuously paved the way for his era through his diverse and cutting-edge artistic activities. Since the 2000s, he devoted himself to creating three-dimensional sound installations in exhibition spaces, which he developed and realized in collaboration with various artists. Focusing entirely on large-scale installation works, this first comprehensive exhibition in Japan looks back on Sakamoto's pioneering, experimental creative artworks, including some of his most well-known previous pieces, and new works that he envisioned for this particular occasion before his passing, are dynamically constructed in and around the museum building.
Photo: Tyler Kline
Tyler further explains how his influences extend beyond music. There is the work of Ryuichi Sakamoto, as mentioned above. Tyler also mentions books and writers—from Italo Calvino to Haruki Murakami to Wendell Berry—that have shaped his artistic vision. Currently, he’s reading Yoko Tawada’s Scattered All Over the Earth, which is inspiring him to experiment with narrative structure and flow in his compositions.
The conversation then takes an unexpected yet fitting turn to food. “I think the act of eating—especially very conceptual or experimental dishes—is so fleeting and ephemeral,” he muses. This reflection on the transience of taste and time mirrors his approach to music: both experiences capture a moment in time that is delicate and ever-changing.
Vanilla ice cream with cayenne
Photo: Tyler Kline
When you have a quiet moment, take some time to listen to the pieces Tyler shared. Maybe you’ll discover a universe of sound and silence you may not have lived in yet.
Upon listening, what do you notice?
How often do you notice silence, or make space for silence?
How does experiencing silence change how you feel, or change your work as an artist?
Photo of Tyler conducting a piece in Tokyo this past January
