Necessity being the mother of invention, I am happy to admit right off the bat that my mission in scoring The End of Quantum Reality was essentially determined by two truths of iron rigor.
First, the film was crying out for an original score.
Second, I was, by an unbeatable margin, the low bid for the job.
I brought with me the distinct advantage of having written, produced, and narrated the film. All that remained was the elephant-in-the-room question — could I do it?
Thanks in great measure to the professional and artistic chops of my music supervisor, engineer, and producer Richard Robson, it turns out that I could, and did.
The End of Quantum Reality documents the life and work of Professor Wolfgang Smith, a man who has been described as “that rara avis: someone deeply versed in science and religion … who moves easily between these two essential ways of knowing: between the core twentieth-century discipline of physics, first of all, and metaphysical doctrine as articulated by the sapiential traditions of mankind.” My goal in scoring the film was to support and emphasize the luminous, timeless quality of the thought of this “rare bird,” and to express the recovery of the “vertical” aspect of reality which his resolution of the quantum enigma so magnificently captures.
As I reflect upon the experience of composing and recording the score, I must thank (in addition to the incomparable Richard Robson) first and foremost, Professor Wolfgang Smith himself. It was on the piano at his home — the piano previously reserved for his beloved departed wife, Thea — that many of the key themes were first elaborated. Were it not for his enthusiastic and rock-solid support, I should never have been able to swallow hard and commit to undertaking the project.
Additionally, the many fans of the film who have requested that the theme song (“One Way Up”) be made available, and our friends at Intonenation Records, deserve thanks and credit for making this release possible.
Any blame remains entirely my own.
Lastly I wish to thank the poor woman who was sitting next to me on the flight to Washington D.C. when the chorus to the main title theme finally came to me “in a flash.” I really appreciate her managing to quell her understandable fear that she might have been seated next to either an epileptic or, worse, some religious fanatic subsumed in strange and, perhaps, dangerous ecstasies.