Stories: Niles Luther

My mom placed me in an introduction to music class when I was four. Every week they brought in a different instrument, and one week they brought in the cello. Apparently, I told her after that class that I was going to be a cellist. Miraculously, she listened and got me a cello and a teacher. That was so long ago, I barely remember it now… 

I do remember loving the timbre of the instrument, how it could be so deep and rich, while also delicate and gentle, just like the human voice. I can’t imagine a life without my cello. 

Without a doubt my first cello teacher, Ole Akahoshi, has been the most influential musician to me. He not only taught me how to play the instrument, but the psychology of learning itself, so I could deeply understand the process of how one masters a discipline. When I came to his studio, I had such passion, but little technique. As a result, I had many things to say, but I lacked the tools to say them. Ole provided the environment I needed to flourish as a young cellist, teaching me that technique is always in service to an expression. It was under his expert tutelage that I honed my technique, providing me with a mode to express my artistic mind that I still lean on heavily today. 

What inspires me most now is when people who don’t know me have an emotional reaction to my compositions. I’ve always felt, with my cello playing, that I was cheating somewhat when people would tell me that my playing was beautiful, or they would cry after a performance of mine. I would think: “Oh sure, I did a decent job bringing these notes to life, but the composer is the one who is pulling the tears from your heart.” When people would thank me for a beautiful performance, I would, in turn, thank the composer for writing beautiful music. Now that I am in the position of the composer, when someone cries as a result of listening to something I’ve composed, and then played or recorded, and they aren’t my friends or family… that is the highest honor to me. 

In 2020, I had an idea for a new musical genre: “Art Music,” or original scores for art objects. For four years I pitched this concept to galleries all over the US, trying to convince people in the commercial art space that it was worth exploring the concept. I was met with rejection after rejection. All the gallerists said the same thing: “Great idea, but it’s too risky.” “Too expensive.” “It’s never been done.” “How do we know you will succeed? We have bills to pay.” 

Nobody in the commercial sector wanted to take a chance. I should have recognized at the time that I was aiming at the wrong target. Gallerists aren’t in the business of chance, as they have to follow, quite literally, the traditional model of selling wares. 

This did not deter me though. I knew that if I focused on embedding within my scores a strength of will, determination, and fundamental beauty, the right person would hear it and offer me a chance. 

This chance came when I finished a major project for Kehinde Wiley, at the National Gallery in London. I had written a full 40-minute symphony for this exhibition, and Darren Walker, the president of the Ford Foundation, happened to visit. Mr. Walker asked Mr. Wiley, “Who composed this music?” When Mr. Wiley introduced me, I was offered a meeting with Mr. Walker and the Ford Foundation. 

In this meeting, Mr. Walker said to me, “What is your dream?” At this point, I had shared the vision of “Art Music” so many times that it flowed out of me naturally. He seemed to be very intrigued with the idea. He said: “It sounds like what you need is an institutional partnership.” I said: “That would be a dream come true.” At the end of the call, he said he’d see what he could do. I expected nothing. By then, rejection was routine. 

A week later, however, he called me back and said, “Niles, I got you a meeting with the director of the Brooklyn Museum, they’re thrilled at the idea of you being in residence and writing scores for their exhibitions. Ford Foundation will underwrite the entire position.” Just like that, after years of failure, I had my opportunity. 

At the Brooklyn Museum, I was incredibly excited to create “Art Music;” music directly inspired by and responding to art and art objects, at an institution with the resources and infrastructure to support large-scale creative endeavors. My approach at the museum was very simple: to create music more beautiful than I ever had before. 

Having had access to curators who are experts in their field, who provided expertise on the artwork, really served as the fundamental bedrock upon which I wrote my compositions and built installations. It was an honor to have the resulting music from this residency shared with the public in a way they likely had never experienced before, offering a new perspective on art viewing that aimed to pull them deeper into the work. 

The culminating work of my residency was Souvenir: Venise d’après Monet, a six-movement symphony composed in response to Claude Monet’s Venice paintings, installed directly within the gallery for the Brooklyn Museum’s Monet and Venice exhibition, which closed February 1, 2026. It was the fullest realization of “Art Music” I have achieved to date – music and visual art existing not beside each other, but as one. My hope is that this work, and this residency, inspires other composers, artists, museums, and gallerists to do the same. I do not want to be alone in exploring this genre. I want to see a world where there is music for art everywhere, like how every film has a score. 

nilesluther.com