Why I Chose to Write Tonal Music in a Modern World

There was a point in my life as a composer when I had to be completely honest with myself. Not about what I was capable of writing, but about what I actually believed in. It is very easy to follow what seems expected, especially in a world where certain styles are seen as more advanced or more contemporary. But the more I wrote, the more I realised that I was being pulled in a different direction, one that felt far more natural and far more true to who I am.

In much of today’s classical music world, tonality is often set aside in favour of more abstract and experimental approaches. I understand the appeal of that. There is value in exploring new ideas and pushing boundaries, and music should never stand still. But at some point, I began to feel a quiet disconnect. I would listen to certain works and admire them intellectually, yet feel no real emotional response. It left me wondering who the music was really for. Was it written to communicate, or simply to demonstrate complexity?

That question stayed with me, and over time it shaped the way I approached my own work. I realised that I did not want to write music that needed explanation before it could be appreciated. I wanted to write something that could reach people immediately, something that could be felt without any barrier between the music and the listener. That realisation brought me back to tonality, not as a limitation, but as a language that still has enormous expressive power.

Melody sits at the centre of that language. When I think about the music that has stayed with me throughout my life, it is always the melody that comes back first. It is the part that lingers in the mind and continues to speak long after the performance has ended. As a composer, I find myself constantly drawn to that idea. I am not interested in writing lines that simply fill space. I am searching for something that has shape, direction, and meaning, something that feels inevitable once it arrives.

The response from listeners has only strengthened this belief. Over the years, I have heard from people all over the world who connect with my music in a very direct way. They do not talk about technique or structure. They talk about how the music made them feel. That has always meant far more to me than any theoretical discussion. It has also made it clear that there are many people who are looking for music that speaks in this way, even if it is not always the dominant voice in the modern classical scene.

For me, writing tonal music is not about turning away from the present. It is about carrying something forward. The great composers of the past were not writing with the intention of fitting into a category. They were writing in a language that allowed them to express something deeply human. That same language still exists, and it still has the ability to evolve. I see my role as continuing that line in my own way, bringing my own voice into it while staying connected to what makes it so powerful.

In the end, this is not a strategic choice. It is simply the music I believe in. It is the sound that feels honest to me, and the sound I want to share with others. There is a certain freedom in accepting that, in no longer trying to follow a path that does not quite fit. I would rather write music that truly connects, even if it sits slightly outside of what is considered current, than chase something that does not resonate.

And if that means standing a little apart, then that is exactly where I am meant to be.