Originally titled “Spatterings,” this was a secret protest piece I wrote while studying with Arthur Berger at the New England Conservatory. He had been guiding me in atonal composition for two years, having me labor over every pitch to avoid any possible tonal reference. I decided to make a point by picking pitches at random out of a paper bag., but not telling him.

He was thrilled with the piece, saying it was the best work I had done, but just please come up with a better title. That night I headed to the dictionary to find the most objective, impersonal word possible. Several hours later I found “dichroism” defined roughly as “the property of exhibiting different colors.” I never revealed my secret method and, since Berger could not distinguish random pitches from the excruciating calculated pitch choices we struggled with in other pieces, I felt I had exposed a fatal flaw in atonal music. I myself didn’t like the piece and I told him I was determined to go back to tonal composition. He said if I did, I was destroying my career and wouldn’t speak again. And that was sadly exactly what happened.

Looking/listening back, I realize that the random pitch process in Dichroisms freed me to explore rhythm and texture more freely. By removing ego and emotion from the equation, I had “finally” composed a 20th century piece, removed from 19th century reference (and earlier). I have no regret about the choice I made to abandon pure atonality, but I now hear and enjoy special moments in Dichroisms The discipline Berger inculcated in me for careful pitch and harmony I now understand was a gift, even if we were never able to come to agreement aesthetically.