The musical landscape of the twentieth century was a chaotic battleground of ideologies, torn between the rigid complexities of serialism and the erratic freedom of the avant-garde, yet amidst this noise emerged a singular voice that sought to reclaim the fundamental power of tonality and rhythm. Philip Glass, born in Baltimore in 1937, did not merely compose music; he constructed sonic architectures that altered the listener's perception of time and space. His journey began not in the prestigious concert halls where he is now celebrated, but in the gritty reality of a working-class existence, where the young prodigy absorbed the varied sounds of his father's record store. This early exposure to modernists like Hindemith and Bartók, combined with a rigorous education at the University of Chicago and Juilliard, set the stage for a radical departure from the academic norms of his era. However, it was his pilgrimage to Paris to study under the legendary pedagogue Nadia Boulanger, and his subsequent encounter with the Indian sitar maestro Ravi Shankar, that catalyzed his transformation. In the rhythmic cycles of Indian classical music, Glass found the antidote to the neurotic complexity of Western atonalism, discovering a method of additive structures that would become the heartbeat of his oeuvre.
Returning to New York City in the late 1960s, Glass found himself an outsider to the establishment, forced to work as a plumber and a taxi driver to fund his art while performing in lofts and art galleries for a devoted underground following. This period of struggle was essential to his philosophy; it stripped him of elitist pretensions and grounded his work in the physical act of performance and the sheer stamina required to execute his repetitive, high-velocity scores. He formed the Philip Glass Ensemble, an amplified group of woodwinds and keyboards that sounded more like a rock band than a chamber orchestra, creating a visceral wall of sound that challenged the boundaries between classical music, theater, and popular culture. His works, such as *Music in Twelve Parts* and the groundbreaking opera *Einstein on the Beach*, were not just compositions but endurance tests that invited the audience to enter a trance-like state, stripping away the narrative expectations of traditional Western music to reveal the naked beauty of structure itself.
Glass's legacy is defined by his relentless work ethic and his refusal to be categorized, moving fluidly between opera, symphonies, film scores, and solo piano works. He democratized the avant-garde, bringing the hypnotic allure of minimalism—a term he notably dislikes, preferring "music with repetitive structures"—to the masses through iconic film scores like *Koyaanisqatsi* and *The Hours*. His music mirrors the mechanical pulse of modern urban life while simultaneously evoking a timeless, spiritual contemplation rooted in his Buddhist practice. By stripping music down to its bare essentials—arpeggios, scales, and rhythmic pulses—and slowly mutating them over extended durations, Glass created a sonic language that reflects the very nature of existence: a constant, shifting stream of consciousness where change is the only constant.
50 Popular Quotes from Philip Glass
The Philosophy of Composition and Sound
"I developed a technique of listening that I had never used before."
Glass refers here to the profound shift in his auditory perception that occurred while transcribing Indian music for Ravi Shankar in Paris. This moment was not merely about learning a new style but about fundamentally altering how he processed rhythm and structure. He realized that Western music largely divided time, whereas Eastern music added to it, creating cycles of rhythm that expanded rather than contracted. This new technique of listening became the cornerstone of his entire compositional output, influencing every arpeggio and repetitive figure he would later write.
"Music is a place, a place where you go."
This statement encapsulates Glass's view of music as an immersive environment rather than a linear narrative or a simple form of entertainment. He constructs sonic landscapes that the listener inhabits, much like architecture, allowing them to wander through the evolving structures of sound. The repetition in his work serves to stabilize this "place," creating a suspended reality where the passage of time feels different from the outside world. It suggests that the act of listening is a journey into a specific state of being.
"The problem with the avant-garde is that most of the people who write about it don't know what they are talking about."
Glass has often had a contentious relationship with critics and the academic establishment, particularly in his early years when his music was dismissed as simplistic. This quote highlights his frustration with the intellectualization of music that ignores the visceral, physical reality of the sound itself. He argues that the gatekeepers of culture often lack the practical understanding of the craft, projecting theories onto art that do not align with the artist's intent. It is a defense of the purity of the work against the noise of critical interpretation.
"I don't know what I'm doing, and that's the right place to be."
This quote reveals the essential humility and openness required for true artistic innovation, suggesting that certainty is the enemy of creativity. For Glass, the creative process is an exploration of the unknown, a venture into territory where the rules have not yet been written. By embracing a state of not knowing, the artist remains open to accidents, intuition, and the organic development of ideas. It validates the confusion and ambiguity that often accompany the early stages of creating something new.
"If you don't know what to do, there's actually a chance of doing something new."
Building on the previous sentiment, Glass posits that relying on established knowledge and technique often leads to derivative work. When an artist is lost or unsure, they are forced to invent their own solutions, leading to genuine breakthroughs. This philosophy explains his departure from the serialism he was taught at Juilliard; because he didn't know how to make that music feel authentic to him, he had to invent his own musical language. It is a call to embrace the void of ignorance as a fertile ground for discovery.
"Tradition is a challenge to the artist, not a model to be imitated."
Glass respects the history of music, having studied it deeply with Nadia Boulanger, but he views it as a force to be reckoned with rather than a blueprint. He believes that an artist must understand tradition in order to transcend it or push against it effectively. Imitation leads to stagnation, whereas challenging tradition leads to evolution and the revitalization of art forms. This perspective allowed him to write operas and symphonies that adhered to the format of the past while completely subverting their internal content.
"The language of music is common to all generations and nations; it is understood by everybody, since it is understood with the heart."
Despite his reputation for intellectual rigor, Glass acknowledges the universal, emotional core of music that bypasses linguistic and cultural barriers. He sees music as a primal form of communication that resonates with the human condition regardless of background. This belief in the universality of sound explains why his music has found a home in diverse settings, from experimental theaters to Hollywood blockbusters. It emphasizes that the ultimate target of his complex structures is the human heart.
"I realized that there was a big difference between the music that I was writing and the music that I was hearing."
This realization was the catalyst for his stylistic shift in the late 1960s, marking the moment he decided to align his creative output with his internal sonic reality. Many composers write what they think they should write based on academic pressure, but Glass chose to close the gap between his inner ear and his manuscript paper. It speaks to the importance of artistic integrity and the courage required to abandon accepted norms. This alignment is what gives his music its distinct, unmistakable identity.
"You practice and you get better. It’s very simple."
Glass often demystifies the artistic process, reducing it to the unglamorous reality of daily discipline and repetition. This quote reflects his pragmatic approach to musicianship, honed during years of playing keyboards in his own ensemble. It rejects the romantic notion of talent as a magical gift, replacing it with the tangible results of hard work. For Glass, the complexity of his music is achieved through the simple, cumulative effect of consistent effort.
"Structure is the discipline of the artist."
In a genre often associated with freedom and trance, Glass emphasizes that rigorous structure is what makes the experience possible. Without a solid framework, the music would dissolve into chaos or boredom; the discipline of structure holds the listener's attention over long durations. He views the architecture of a piece as the vessel that contains the emotional and spiritual content. This quote serves as a reminder that true artistic freedom is found within the mastery of form.
The Discipline of Work and the Artist's Life
"I put in a lot of time. I work all the time."
Glass is legendary for his prodigious output and his refusal to wait for inspiration to strike. This quote underscores his philosophy that being an artist is a job like any other, requiring constant attention and labor. He does not view composition as a leisure activity but as a relentless vocation that demands every waking hour. It serves as a stark counter-narrative to the image of the bohemian artist who works only when the mood is right.
"For a long time I drove a taxi, and I had a plumbing company."
This is perhaps the most famous biographical detail of Glass's life, illustrating his commitment to independence and his refusal to compromise his art for money. By working blue-collar jobs, he liberated himself from the need to write commercial music or seek academic tenure, allowing him to compose exactly what he wanted. It highlights the dignity of labor and the reality that many great artists must support themselves through ordinary means. These experiences grounded him in the real world, keeping him connected to the people who would eventually become his audience.
"I was careful not to rely on the music for my living."
Glass deliberately separated his financial survival from his creative output for decades to ensure his artistic purity. By not relying on music to pay the rent, he removed the pressure to please producers, critics, or commissions that might dilute his vision. This strategy allowed him to take risks that a financially dependent artist might avoid. It is a strategic lesson for aspiring artists on how to protect their creative voice in a capitalist society.
"The world of music is a world of doing."
Glass rejects the theoretical analysis of music in favor of the physical act of making it. He believes that music only truly exists when it is being performed, not when it is being discussed or studied on a page. This emphasizes the performative aspect of his career, where he spent years touring and playing his own music. It suggests that the essence of art is action, not contemplation.
"Inspiration is for amateurs. The rest of us just show up and get to work."
This quote, often attributed to the painter Chuck Close as well, is a mantra for Glass's professional life. He dismisses the romantic concept of the muse, insisting that creativity is the result of showing up to the desk every single day, regardless of how one feels. It demystifies the creative process, making it accessible to anyone willing to put in the effort. It is a powerful affirmation of the value of routine and persistence over fleeting moments of genius.
"You have to have a technique. If you don't have a technique, you can't say what you want to say."
Glass credits his rigorous training with Nadia Boulanger for giving him the tools to express his unique vision. He argues that raw emotion or good ideas are insufficient without the technical skill to execute them effectively. Technique is the bridge between the artist's internal world and the external audience. This quote reinforces the necessity of education and the mastery of fundamentals before one can break the rules.
"When I was driving a taxi, I would meet people who would say, 'You're Philip Glass? What are you doing driving a taxi?'"
This anecdote illustrates the surreal duality of his life in the 1970s, where he was a famous avant-garde composer by night and a cab driver by day. It speaks to the humility required to sustain an artistic career and the often invisible struggles of creative individuals. It also highlights the disconnect between public perception of fame and the economic reality of the artist. Glass wears this history as a badge of honor, proving his dedication to his craft.
"I never thought I would make a living from writing music."
Glass's early career was driven by passion rather than a career plan, as he genuinely believed his music was too experimental to ever be commercially viable. This lack of expectation freed him from the anxiety of failure, allowing him to write with absolute authenticity. When success finally came, it was a byproduct of his dedication, not the primary goal. It encourages artists to focus on the work itself rather than the potential rewards.
"My father had a record store, so I grew up with music."
This simple statement reveals the roots of his eclectic taste and his understanding of music as a commodity and a form of communication. Working in his father's store, he saw what people bought and why, giving him an early insight into the relationship between the listener and the record. It stripped music of its academic pretension and presented it as a daily necessity for people. This background influenced his later willingness to engage with pop culture and film.
"There is a point where you have to let the music go."
Glass recognizes that a composition is never truly finished, but it must be abandoned at some point to be shared with the world. This quote addresses the perfectionism that paralyzes many artists, urging them to release their work even if they see flaws. Once the music is released, it belongs to the audience and the performers, taking on a life of its own. It signifies the necessary detachment an artist must cultivate to continue moving forward.
Collaboration, Theater, and the Audience
"The audience completes the work."
Glass fundamentally believes that music is a transaction between the composer, the performer, and the listener. The repetitive nature of his music leaves space for the audience to project their own thoughts and emotions onto the sound, making them active participants in the creation of meaning. Without the listener's perception, the loop is not closed, and the art remains inert. This philosophy democratizes the concert experience, valuing the audience's subjective experience.
"Opera is the only place where you can do everything."
Glass revitalized the genre of opera in the late 20th century because he saw it as the ultimate multimedia art form. It allowed him to combine text, movement, image, and music into a singular, overwhelming experience. He views opera not as a museum piece but as a vibrant, living medium capable of addressing contemporary themes. This quote explains why a significant portion of his major works, like *Satyagraha* and *Akhnaten*, are operatic in nature.
"I learned that the theater was a place where you could try anything."
His early work with the experimental theater group Mabou Mines and director Robert Wilson taught him that the stage was a laboratory for radical ideas. Unlike the conservative concert hall, the theater welcomed innovation, multimedia, and the breaking of conventions. This environment nurtured his distinct style, allowing him to develop his musical language in conjunction with visual elements. It highlights the importance of interdisciplinary collaboration in his development.
"Working with Bob Wilson was like walking into a different world."
Referencing his collaboration on *Einstein on the Beach*, Glass describes the transformative power of working with a visionary director who challenged his concepts of time and narrative. Wilson's slow-motion visuals perfectly complemented Glass's repetitive structures, creating a unified aesthetic that neither could have achieved alone. It serves as a testament to the power of artistic partnership. This collaboration redefined what opera could be in the 20th century.
"The music is not a background; it is a character."
In his film scores and theatrical works, Glass refuses to let his music sit passively in the background. He treats the score as an active participant in the narrative, driving the emotional and rhythmic pacing of the visual story. This approach is evident in *The Hours*, where the music acts as the connective tissue between the three storylines. It asserts the equal importance of sound in multimedia art.
"I like the collaborative process. It takes you out of your own head."
Glass values collaboration because it forces him to confront perspectives and problems he would not encounter in isolation. Working with filmmakers, poets, and directors disrupts his habits and demands new musical solutions. This external friction is a source of growth, preventing his style from becoming stale. It portrays the composer not as a solitary genius but as a member of a creative community.
"When you work with people who are good, you get better."
This pragmatic advice emphasizes the importance of surrounding oneself with high-caliber talent. Glass sought out collaborators like Ravi Shankar, Robert Wilson, and Godfrey Reggio because their excellence pushed him to elevate his own craft. It suggests that artistic growth is contagious and that mediocrity should be avoided in partnerships. It is a strategy for continuous self-improvement.
"Film music is a very specific discipline."
Glass acknowledges the unique constraints and requirements of scoring for cinema, which differs vastly from concert music. He learned to serve the image while maintaining his musical integrity, a balance that many composers fail to strike. This quote reflects his respect for the craft of film scoring as a distinct art form. It validates his extensive and influential body of work in Hollywood.
"You can't just write what you want; you have to write what is needed."
In the context of theater and film, Glass accepts that the needs of the narrative supersede the ego of the composer. This requires a flexibility and responsiveness that contradicts the stereotype of the uncompromising artist. It shows his professionalism and his ability to adapt his language to serve a larger purpose. This adaptability is key to his longevity and ubiquity.
"The connection between the eye and the ear is very mysterious."
Glass is fascinated by how sound influences visual perception and vice versa. He explores this synesthetic relationship in his operas and soundtracks, often creating counterpoints where the music contradicts or elevates the image. He views this connection as a magical space where the artist can manipulate the audience's subconscious. It is the core of his multimedia philosophy.
Minimalism, Time, and Repetition
"I don't like the word 'minimalism'. It's a word that was invented by journalists."
Like many of his peers, Glass rejects the label "minimalist" because he feels it implies a lack of content or effort. He prefers to describe his work as "music with repetitive structures," which accurately reflects the density and complexity of his compositions. The term minimalism suggests reduction, whereas Glass feels his music is about expansion and richness. This quote is a reclamation of his artistic identity against convenient categorization.
"Repetition is not just doing the same thing over and over. It's about change."
This is the central paradox of Glass's music: through repetition, minute changes become magnified and significant. He argues that exact repetition does not exist in human performance, and the slight variations that occur over time constitute the drama of the music. It challenges the listener to pay closer attention to the evolution of the sound. Repetition is the vehicle for transformation, not a sign of stasis.
"Time is the subject of the music."
Glass's compositions often stretch over hours, distorting the listener's sense of time passing. By removing traditional narrative arcs, he forces the audience to experience time as a continuous, unfolding present. The music becomes a meditation on duration and the perception of moments. This philosophy aligns his work with the metaphysical exploration of temporal existence.
"The essence of the music is the listener's attention."
Glass understands that his music requires a different kind of engagement; if the listener does not commit their attention, the music can seem monotonous. However, if they surrender to it, the psychoacoustic effects take over. This places the responsibility of the aesthetic experience partly on the audience. It highlights the interactive nature of his hypnotic structures.
"My music is not about things staying the same. It's about things changing very slowly."
He clarifies that his music is dynamic, but the rate of change is glacial compared to traditional Western music. This slow metamorphosis mirrors natural processes, like the movement of clouds or the flow of a river. It requires patience to appreciate, offering a respite from the frenetic pace of modern life. This quote invites the listener to slow down and observe the subtleties.
"The structure of the music is additive."
Glass explains the technical foundation of his style, which he derived from Indian classical music. Instead of dividing a measure into smaller beats, he builds phrases by adding notes (1, 1-2, 1-2-3), creating expanding and contracting rhythmic cycles. This additive process gives his music its driving, locomotive quality. It is the mathematical engine beneath the emotional surface.
"I am interested in music that has a different relationship to time."
Glass seeks to escape the dramatic time of the 19th-century symphony, which mimics a story with a beginning, middle, and end. Instead, he aims for "vertical time," where the listener enters a state of suspension. This alternative temporal relationship is what makes his music suitable for meditation and trance. It is a rejection of the linear narrative of Western history.
"Simplicity is a way of arriving at complexity."
By using simple building blocks—triads and scales—Glass constructs massive, complex edifices of sound. He demonstrates that complexity does not require obscure materials, but rather the intelligent layering of simple elements. This approach makes his music accessible on the surface while offering depth for those who listen closely. It is a philosophy of emergence, where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
"The pulse is the most important thing."
In Glass's music, the steady, unwavering pulse is the lifeline that holds the structure together. It provides a grounding force against the shifting meters and polyrhythms. This pulse connects his music to rock, jazz, and world music, distinguishing it from the fluid time of the romantic era. It represents the heartbeat of the musical organism.
"We are creating a different kind of listening."
Glass acknowledges that his music demands a re-education of the ear. The listener must abandon the expectation of immediate gratification and learn to appreciate the long arc of the sound. This new kind of listening is more meditative and less analytical. It is a cultural shift that he helped engineer.
Life, Philosophy, and Transformation
"I have been a Buddhist since 1966."
Glass's spiritual practice is inseparable from his artistic output. His engagement with Tibetan Buddhism informs his views on compassion, death, and the nature of reality. It provides the philosophical underpinning for his music's meditative qualities and his focus on the present moment. This quote grounds his work in a specific spiritual lineage.
"The past is a memory, the future is a dream. All we have is now."
This classic Buddhist sentiment is reflected in the immediacy of Glass's repetitive structures. His music forces the listener to be present, as the subtle changes require constant attention to the "now." It serves as a reminder to live consciously and fully in the present moment. The music becomes a practice of mindfulness.
"Death is not the end, it is a transition."
Influenced by the *Tibetan Book of the Living and Dying*, Glass views death as part of a continuum rather than a finality. This perspective is explored in works like *The Passion of Ramakrishna* and his opera *Satyagraha*. It imbues his music with a sense of eternal recurrence and hope. It offers a comforting perspective on mortality.
"You have to be willing to be a beginner every morning."
Glass advocates for the "beginner's mind," a Zen concept of approaching life and work with fresh eyes and no preconceptions. This attitude prevents cynicism and burnout, keeping the creative spark alive even after decades of success. It is a call for humility and continuous learning. It keeps the artist young in spirit.
"Transformation is the only reality."
Echoing the concept of impermanence, Glass believes that everything is in a constant state of flux. His music models this reality, never standing still, always becoming something else. It aligns with the scientific and spiritual understanding of the universe as a dynamic process. It encourages acceptance of change in one's own life.
"I don't think about my legacy. That's for other people to decide."
Glass remains focused on the act of creation rather than the preservation of his image. He understands that legacy is out of his control and that worrying about it is a distraction from the work at hand. This stoic attitude allows him to continue experimenting without fear of damaging his reputation. It is a sign of a mature artist who creates for the sake of creation.
"Art is a way of paying attention."
Glass suggests that the purpose of art is to sharpen our awareness of the world. By framing sound, image, or language, art forces us to look and listen more closely than we do in our daily lives. This heightened state of attention is the gift the artist gives to the audience. It elevates the mundane to the significant.
"The most important thing is to keep working."
This simple mantra sums up Glass's entire approach to life. Through personal tragedies, professional setbacks, and global fame, his response has always been to return to the piano. Work is his anchor, his therapy, and his contribution to humanity. It is the ultimate advice for longevity.
"Compassion is the highest form of wisdom."
Deriving from his Buddhist studies, Glass places compassion above intellectual brilliance. He strives to create music that is empathetic and humane, connecting with the suffering and joy of others. This moral compass guides his interactions and his artistic choices. It reminds us that art should serve the human spirit.
"Everything is connected."
Glass's music, with its interlocking rhythms and harmonies, is a sonic metaphor for the interconnectedness of all things. He sees the world not as a collection of isolated objects but as a web of relationships. This holistic worldview influences his collaborations and his genre-defying compositions. It is a profound statement on the unity of existence.
The Legacy of the Endless Pulse
Philip Glass's impact on the world of music is incalculable, transcending the narrow confines of classical composition to permeate the global consciousness. He took the esoteric experiments of the downtown New York art scene and forged a language that resonates in opera houses, cinemas, rock clubs, and commercials alike. His legacy is not merely in the notes he wrote, but in the walls he tore down; he proved that complex, intellectual music could also be visceral, emotional, and accessible. By reintroducing the pulse and the triad to a musical world that had abandoned them, he healed the rift between the composer and the audience. Today, his influence is heard everywhere, from the ambient textures of electronic dance music to the atmospheric scores of modern cinema, proving that the "minimalist" who drove a taxi eventually drove the direction of music history itself.
We invite you to share your thoughts on Philip Glass's music in the comments below. Which of his works has transported you to a different "place"?
Recommendations
Steve Reich
A fellow pioneer of minimalism, Steve Reich's work with phasing and rhythmic processes parallels Glass's additive structures. His music, such as *Music for 18 Musicians*, shares the hypnotic, pulse-driven aesthetic that defined the American minimalist movement. Exploring Reich offers a different, perhaps more mathematically rigorous, perspective on repetitive music.
John Cage
As the godfather of American experimental music, John Cage paved the way for Glass by challenging the very definition of music and silence. His philosophy of removing the ego from the creative process and his embrace of Eastern philosophy deeply influenced Glass's generation. Reading Cage provides the historical and philosophical context for the avant-garde explosion.
Erik Satie
Often cited as a spiritual ancestor to minimalism, Satie's *Gymnopédies* and *Vexations* anticipated the repetitive and ambient qualities of Glass's work by half a century. His rejection of Wagnerian excess and his focus on simplicity and clarity mirror Glass's own musical rebellion. Satie represents the early roots of the quiet revolution that Glass would later lead.