POLYSEMY Online ©2006

Alchemy, of course, is the ancient study of the manner by which transformation occurs in physical substances into something profoundly mysterious. Common perception of alchemy reduces it to the manner of transforming, say, coal into gold. But even to investigate only a little deeper (the subject, of course, being vast) is to reveal that alchemists themselves regarded their work as, primarily, the study of the "Book of Nature" — the natural world as well as the world of interiors, of consciousness.

So my thought: I wonder if the practice of alchemy parallels the practice of making art. As a composer, for example, I work with physical materials (tones, singular as well as in tandem with other tones) and attempt, through the manners of composition, to end up with an object, the piece of music, that holds profound mystery, revelation, and aesthetic wonder for the audience, those listening to the music. The piece of music certainly contains tones, but is certainly more than mere tones. In good music, the imagination is stirred, a mimesis, something of a drama or story unfolds. Music holds interest; mere tones do not.

So it is this process of change (or, to use a word from alchemy, "transmuting") of the raw materials of sound into the vivified experience of music that, for me, is the parallel between alchemy and artistry I'm interested in. That alchemists were often mystics intrigues me all the more. That many alchemists were etymologists reminds of the importance of concrete detailing to works of art. And that beautiful objects of symbolic art were created by alchemists, or in service of alchemy, tells me that perhaps alchemy is something of a carrier of important truths for artists interested in art that transforms.

So there must be something salvagable of alchemy that is useful for today's artists? Even something as bold as, perhaps, a direct correlation, insofar as the artist is a kind of alchemist? Is that going too far?