In the 1950s, decades before he became a well-renowned composer, Philip Glass was a young man who recently moved to New York City to start his education at a prestigious art school, the Juilliard School. His first home was in a room on the fourth floor of a brownstone in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, just a block west of Central Park. In the evenings, he often worked at a diner nearby, sipping on coffee while completing his harmony exercises as well as composing his own music in his notebooks. One night, Philip noticed an older man in his 60s doing the same thing—composing music. He writes in his memoir, Words Without Music, “It was a piano quintet (piano plus string quartet) and, from my few quick glances, it looked very well thought out and ‘professional.’” If you were in Philip’s position, you might think that this older man hadn’t seemed to gain much success with his music. You might even worry that would be your fate; after decades of dedication, there you were, still toiling…
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