Amanda Lee Falkenberg transits The Moons and taps into telescopic transfixation
By Web Behrens
“Our siloed-off world can feel a little insular. This is a project that breaks through those barriers and into this interdisciplinary place, where I love to live.” –Marin Alsop
Sometimes an idea is so inspired, so perfect, you have to wonder: How did this not exist before?
It’s not hard to imagine people of the past asking that question about groundbreaking works of creation. In the classical world, consider Mozart’s genre-defying 1787 opera Don Giovanni—simultaneously a farcical comedy and a heavy morality play—which pushed theatrical storytelling forward (it actually depicts the actions of its antihero protagonist, rather than having others sing about his offstage deeds) while sonically wowing audiences, such as when three onstage chamber groups play in three different meters simultaneously.
In literature, one recipient of the “Wish I Could Innovate Like That” Award belongs to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, the groundbreaking Gothic horror parable of love and belonging that, in 1818, also became the world’s first science-fiction novel. In film, look to the 1939 iconic musical adaptation of The Wizard of Oz: While undeniably buoyed by legendary performances and ebullient songs, its state-of-the-art cinematography redefined how cinema could use color—including the story-driven, eye-popping transition from sepia-toned Kansas to Technicolor Oz that left audiences astonished.
Now there’s a new work of genius to elevate into this class: The Moons Symphony, composed by Amanda Lee Falkenberg. Yes, that’s Moons, plural. We earthlings have just one that typically captures our attention; unsurprisingly, that’s what initially fascinated Falkenberg. La Luna proved to be her “gateway drug” into a dazzlingly ambitious project mingling astronomy with music.
More specifically, the composer’s multimedia vision led her to combine orchestral and choral composition, cutting-edge visuals, and true planetary science into one glorious achievement. This pioneering new creation was born out of direct collaboration with an international cohort of researchers, including scientists at NASA and ESA (the European Space Agency).
Marin Alsop led the London Symphony in the recording sessions for The Moons Symphony, having embraced interdisciplinary works for much of her career. She revisits the music in its new concert suite edition at Ravinia on July 26.
This thrilling new work is the backbone of this year’s Breaking Barriers Festival, running Wednesday through Saturday, July 24–27. For the centerpiece concert on Friday, July 26, Ravinia Chief Conductor Marin Alsop leads the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in an inspired double bill: Gustav Holst’s iconic The Planets suite, followed by The Moons Symphonic Suite, a new edition of Falkenberg’s work featuring orchestra musicians alone. The performance includes stunning videos of various moons in our solar system—imagery collected by various space probes, combined with science-based artistic renderings, projected onto screens in the Pavilion and on the Lawn. After the concert concludes, the Naperville Astronomical Association will be on hand with telescopes to facilitate viewings of the planets and moons visible in July’s night sky.
“This is unashamedly the highest collaboration of science and music,” Falkenberg told Ravinia Magazine, speaking via video call from her home in Dubai. “I’m so thrilled to have Ravinia host it, and to be outdoors with telescopes.”
Although the full conception of The Moons was recorded in 2022 by the London Symphony Orchestra with Alsop conducting, which generated a fair amount of coverage, “this will be a first for me,” Falkenberg notes. “I’ve done a lot of ‘beta testing’ with private audiences in London and with scientists. I have not done a live concert like this. I’m really hoping it resonates with audiences.”
For her part, Alsop has been very nurturing of The Moons, discussing the project with Falkenberg several years ago in Vienna before agreeing to lead the recording and, now, to bring it to Ravinia. In the cover story for the March 2022 issue of BBC Music, Alsop called The Moons “a huge undertaking” and even observed that its ambition is “kind of nutty—but I like nutty ideas.
“Our siloed-off world can feel a little insular,” Alsop observed. “This is a project that breaks through those barriers and into this interdisciplinary place, where I love to live.”
Among the work’s remarkable elements is the story of its genesis. Though it seems hard to believe today, before inspiration struck her six years ago, the composer had “absolutely zero” schooling in astronomy. “Growing up in South Australia, I just didn’t have the bandwidth for it,” says Falkenberg, a film and TV composer whose standalone works include a 2017 composition titled The Sea Trilogy. Although drawn to the natural world, “I was so busy with dramatic arts, and I did double music for my Year Twelve, I didn’t have room to explore these other things that interested me. Which is why, when I stumbled across this idea, I knew this was my chance.”
While topics such as astronomy and ecology clearly appeal to her, it’s fair to say she initially came to The Moons as a musician and a poet. She remembers the induction clearly.
“In 2017, I was in between film projects,” Falkenberg recalls. “John Williams famously says, when he’s in between films, he loves to do concert music. So, what do I love? I thought, ‘Well, I love the moon! So, okay, I’m going to write this piano concerto, and it’ll be an abstract work, about ten minutes long.’ I came up with a title, Crossing at the Crescent Moon. Of course, being in Dubai, there’s crescent moons everywhere.”
From left: Moons collaborators Dr. Ashley Davies, composer Amanda Lee Falkenberg, and Drs. Linda and Tom Spilker
She was about three-quarters done writing when she took a break. “Oh, I’m going to step out of my studio, relax, have a cup of tea, and maybe go do some research on ancient symbolism and historical significance of the moon,” she recalls. Falkenberg soon felt gob-smacked—in the best way—by the information that beamed from her iPad: She quickly learned that, while the inner terrestrial planets of our solar system have just three moons between them (zero for Mercury and Venus, two for Mars, and, of course, one for Earth), the gas giants collectively own a couple hundred natural satellites within their powerful orbits.
Like the planets they encircle, these outer moons are mostly named after figures in Greco-Roman mythology—Ganymede, Europa, Io, Titan, Enceladus—although Shakespeare was the source for Miranda and several other of Uranus’s moons. (That said, with later 20th- and early 21st-century technology, scientists are getting so good at spotting tiny moons, the International Astronomical Union no longer gives them names unless they have some significant scientific interest.)
“About two hours into my research, I find this website that lists ‘Ten of the Weirdest Moons of Our Solar System.’ I started to shake,” Falkenberg remembers. “There’s more moons I could be writing for?! Oh my goodness! It was literally like a lightning bolt had just hit me. I still get goosebumps just talking about it.
“I looked at images of these moons, and the first thing that came to me is a little bit strange, but I’ll tell you anyway,” she confides. “The first thing was: These moons need music. The next thing that came was: These moons need emotion. Being a film composer, I’m so aware of the power of music. I had no background in astronomy whatsoever, and I thought, ‘I’m sure there are other people out there who don’t have any idea about these moons. What if I team up my compositional background with my love of moons?’ ”
Another surprising thing about The Moons: Falkenberg didn’t set out to make a modern-day companion piece to The Planets—indeed, she says she wasn’t particularly familiar with the famous work. “About four months into composing moon after moon, someone had to point it out to me: ‘You realize people will make comparisons between you and Holst,’ ” she says. “I had to really think long and hard about it. How would they? Mine is so invested in scientific inspiration, which is why I personally wouldn’t think to pair it with The Planets, which is astrologically driven.”
Indeed, Holst drew inspiration for his seven movements from the mythological progenitors of our solar-system neighbors: Mercury, for example, is the Winged Messenger; Mars, the Bringer of War; and Saturn, the herald of old age. Yet despite the notable differences, the two works do live in intriguing confluence with one another.
“I love to draw similarities,” Falkenberg admits. So regarding Planets and Moons, “here are three quite serendipitous things. First of all, his was a passion project, as is mine; these were not commissions. Secondly, we each took about the same time, two years, to write the work.”
She describes her final point of comparison as an “uncanny connection.” The Planets received its first complete public performance in November 1920, courtesy of the London Symphony Orchestra. “Would you believe me if I told you,” Falkenberg enthuses, “that I had Abbey Road Studios booked with the London Symphony Orchestra in December 2020 [to record The Moons]? One hundred years after!”
Of course, the inspired double presentation of The Moons and The Planets isn’t all that’s in store for this year’s Breaking Barriers Festival. Two evenings prior to the concert, the festival kicks off on July 24 with a free presentation, “An Earthling’s Guide to The Moons Symphony.” Held at Northwestern University’s Center for Interdisciplinary Exploration and Research in Astrophysics, the event will feature Falkenberg, Alsop, and a coterie of space experts from NASA and ESA who helped nurture the project, including astronaut Nicole Stott, founding director of the Space for Art Foundation.
Also in attendance will be one of the tech wizards involved with the video component of The Moons Symphonic Suite: Paul Myer Hopkins, who did some video compositing, building on what Falkenberg calls the “incredible work” of artists Ron Miller and Ed Bell, who opened their catalogues of space-related work to complement the visuals. Hopkins, in particular, has a deep connection to the work, given that he’s Falkenberg’s husband.
Many of the Moons scientists have kept close to the project, attending the recording sessions and adding insights for the musicians—even less strictly scientific ones, like NASA/JPL’s tradition of “lucky peanuts.” At the Breaking Barriers events July 24–27, featured guests will include astronaut Nicole Stott and probe mission leads Elizabeth “Zibi” Turtle and Prof. Michele Dougherty, as well as Drs. Davies and Tom Spilker.
Indeed, the whole trip to Illinois will be a homecoming for Hopkins, a classically trained musician who now focuses on multimedia work in his job at the Dubai American Academy. “Funny enough, he got his master’s at Northwestern University,” says Falkenberg, who, for her part, earned a performance degree at the Conservatory of Music in Adelaide. (They ultimately met in 2004 in Seattle, during an intensive film-composing workshop.) During his time as an Evanston Wildcat, Hopkins also attended multiple concerts in Highland Park. Falkenberg notes with a chuckle, “He’s been sitting on the couch going, ‘I cannot believe my wife is about to headline Ravinia.’ He’s super excited about this incredible chain of events.”
Falkenberg says she hopes this multi-pronged presentation of The Moons continues in the future. “Quite frankly, I want scientists to have more of the stage for this type of event,” she notes. Her goal is no less than marrying music and art with learning—a union of education and inspiration.
To that end, the videos of the moons that accompany each movement will distinguish between actual footage collected from various space probes and animated interpretations of what humans have learned about these moons. “I’ve been very specific when producing these videos,” she points out. “We want people to know: This is happening in our solar system right now. This is not science fiction; this is science fact. That’s why I wrote the symphony, because I couldn’t believe these incredible stories coming back from these mind-blowing Missions.”
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Seven years ago, while perusing astronomy articles online, Amanda Lee Falkenberg stumbled across a clickbait-worthy headline, “Ten of the Weirdest Moons of Our Solar System.” The realization that other planets have moons of their own launched her into an artistic frenzy of discovery and inspiration—and she quickly came to her own conclusion: “These moons aren’t weird at all. These are wonderful moons! So I decided to put them in music.”
Falkenberg began a three-month-long period of research. “I was driven by the aesthetics of their terrain,” she says. “I absolutely felt like a film director during a casting call, but instead of Hollywood actors, I was short-listing moons. I wanted them to have different characteristics, so I could make sure each movement has a unique stamp and tone.”
The seven satellites represented in The Moons Symphonic Suite, according to performance order, are Io, Europa, Titan, Enceladus, Miranda, Ganymede, and our moon. Here’s a primer about each one.
Io. This Jupiter moon could’ve been named Vulcan. Peppered with hundreds of vents, the most volcanically active body in our solar system hurls lava dozens of miles above its surface.
Europa. Another moon of Jupiter, smooth Europa provides the water to Io’s fire. With a core made primarily of silicate rock, Europa is covered entirely by a saltwater ocean, topped with an icy crust.
Titan. Saturn’s largest satellite (even bigger than planet Mercury) has a thick atmosphere and entire system of clouds, rain, rivers, seas, and ice. But it’s not a water table—Titan’s full of liquid hydrocarbons, including methane.
Enceladus. Another of Saturn’s progeny, this icy moon is the Old Faithful of our solar system, thanks to many geysers spewing water vapor and ice from an underworld ocean.
Miranda. Not discovered until 1948 by Dutch-American astronomer Gerard Kuiper, this moon of Uranus has a highly varied topography, including a 20-kilometer-high cliff that scientists believe is the biggest in the solar system.
Ganymede. Observed by Galileo in 1610, along with Io and Europa in a discovery that upended human understanding of the firmament, this Jupiter moon is the biggest in the solar system. Ganymede is also the only satellite known to have its own magnetic field.
Earth’s Moon. This past February, the US celebrated its first lunar landing since 1972’s Apollo 17 mission. When the unmanned Odysseus touched down in Malapert Crater, near the moon’s South Pole, it fittingly carried with it a digital version of the sheet music for The Moons Symphony.
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Native Chicagoan Web Behrens has spent most of his journalism career covering arts and culture. His work has appeared in the pages of the Chicago Tribune, Time Out Chicago, Crain’s Chicago Business, and The Advocate and Chicago magazines.