Why I Use Creative Commons
As of October 18, 2019, I am no longer copyrighting my music. Instead of traditional copyrights, I will be using a Creative Commons license — specifically a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Frankly, it’s been a long time coming.
I’ll tell you why I came to this decision, and I’ll also explain the Creative Commons license. But first, let me tell you a little bit about why copyrights are bad for art. I’ll explain using a series of vignettes.
Vignette #1: A composer wanted to write a piece of music on a well-known poem. The poet was long dead, and yet, because of the stringent copyright imposed by the poet’s estate, the composer was not able to secure the rights to use the poem. So rather than using the existing text, they asked a poet friend of theirs to write a new poem using the same meter and rhyming structure, and it was that poem that became the basis for the piece. To the best of my knowledge, this is a true story. The original poem was Robert Frost’s “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening,” a work that is still, inexplicably, under copyright. The resulting piece? Eric Whitacre’s “Sleep.”
Vignette #2: A composer wanted to write a piece of music on a well-known poem. They were able to secure the rights to the poem for a reasonable fee, but was eventually given the opportunity to revise the piece. Knowing the copyright situation, the composer considered pulling an Eric Whitacre and commissioning a poet to write a new poem using the meter and rhyming structure of this original poem. This is a true story. I know, because I am the composer. The poem is “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas, which was (but may cease to be) part of An American Requiem.
Vignette #3. A songwriter wanted to the set a work by a well-known recently deceased poet. They were able to contact the publisher and tentatively secure the rights, but the asking fee was so high that they abandoned the project. Again, this is a true story. The poet and the poem will not be named, but the songwriter was my wife.
And just because I can’t resist, here’s Vignette #4: A composer writes a piece of music, gets it published, and it sells fairly well... for a while. But then the sales drop off, and the composer begins to weigh their options. The problem is that the pieces were copyrighted by the publisher, so the composer doesn’t actually own the rights to their own music. The options, in other words, are extremely limited. Once again, a true story. I’m the composer, and the pieces in question could be either “Missa Brevis” or, to a lesser extent, “All Flesh is Grass.”
Are copyrights really bad for art? Well, yes and no. There are situations where they are very good for art, or at least artists. Copyrights protect an artist’s work from being used in ways that they don’t approve of, thereby giving them the final say and safeguarding their intellectual property. There are also times when an artist’s failure to get permission to use copyrighted material has yielded some creative results. Eric Whitacre’s aforementioned “Sleep” is one example; another is F.W. Murnau’s silent horror masterpiece “Nosferatu,” a film that would have been “Dracula” had Bram Stoker’s widow granted the rights.
What it really comes down to is this: I don’t want it to be difficult for people to find, perform, and otherwise use my music. I want them to be able to record it, to post performances on YouTube, even to adapt it or arrange it if need be. What I don’t want them to do is take credit for it or make money off of their “remix” — I want them to share it, just as I’ve shared the original.
I’m far from the first creative person to do this — the novelist Cory Doctorow has been using Creative Commons and sharing his work since 2003 — but I don’t know of any other composer who’s tried it. I do, however, know a lot of composers whose work is hard to find, inaccessible, and rarely performed. At the end of the day, I want my music to be “out there,” to be readily available; I also want to be part of the solution to the copyright mess rather than part of the problem. Yes, it’s a business decision; it’s also an ethical decision.
And that’s where Creative Commons comes in. Less restrictive than a traditional copyright, but more stringent than leaving something in the public domain, Creative Commons lets artists and creators choose what kind of license they want to put on their work.
I’m far from the first creative person to do this — the novelist Cory Doctorow has been using Creative Commons and sharing his work since 2003 — but I don’t know of any other composer who’s tried it. I do, however, know a lot of composers whose work is hard to find, inaccessible, and rarely performed.
Yes, there is an inherent risk to adopting this kind of model.
Frankly, it’s been a long time coming.
I’ll tell you why I came to this decision, and I’ll also explain the Creative Commons license. But first, let me tell you a little bit about why copyrights are bad for art. I’ll explain using a series of vignettes.
Vignette #1: A composer wanted to write a piece of music on a well-known poem. The poet was long dead, and yet, because of the stringent copyright imposed by the poet’s estate, the composer was not able to secure the rights to use the poem. So rather than using the existing text, they asked a poet friend of theirs to write a new poem using the same meter and rhyming structure, and it was that poem that became the basis for the piece. To the best of my knowledge, this is a true story. The original poem was Robert Frost’s “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening,” a work that is still, inexplicably, under copyright. The resulting piece? Eric Whitacre’s “Sleep.”
Vignette #2: A composer wanted to write a piece of music on a well-known poem. They were able to secure the rights to the poem for a reasonable fee, but was eventually given the opportunity to revise the piece. Knowing the copyright situation, the composer considered pulling an Eric Whitacre and commissioning a poet to write a new poem using the meter and rhyming structure of this original poem. This is a true story. I know, because I am the composer. The poem is “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas, which was (but may cease to be) part of An American Requiem.
Vignette #3. A songwriter wanted to the set a work by a well-known recently deceased poet. They were able to contact the publisher and tentatively secure the rights, but the asking fee was so high that they abandoned the project. Again, this is a true story. The poet and the poem will not be named, but the songwriter was my wife.
And just because I can’t resist, here’s Vignette #4: A composer writes a piece of music, gets it published, and it sells fairly well... for a while. But then the sales drop off, and the composer begins to weigh their options. The problem is that the pieces were copyrighted by the publisher, so the composer doesn’t actually own the rights to their own music. The options, in other words, are extremely limited. Once again, a true story. I’m the composer, and the pieces in question could be either “Missa Brevis” or, to a lesser extent, “All Flesh is Grass.”
Are copyrights really bad for art? Well, yes and no. There are situations where they are very good for art, or at least artists. Copyrights protect an artist’s work from being used in ways that they don’t approve of, thereby giving them the final say and safeguarding their intellectual property. There are also times when an artist’s failure to get permission to use copyrighted material has yielded some creative results. Eric Whitacre’s aforementioned “Sleep” is one example; another is F.W. Murnau’s silent horror masterpiece “Nosferatu,” a film that would have been “Dracula” had Bram Stoker’s widow granted the rights.
What it really comes down to is this: I don’t want it to be difficult for people to find, perform, and otherwise use my music. I want them to be able to record it, to post performances on YouTube, even to adapt it or arrange it if need be. What I don’t want them to do is take credit for it or make money off of their “remix” — I want them to share it, just as I’ve shared the original.
I’m far from the first creative person to do this — the novelist Cory Doctorow has been using Creative Commons and sharing his work since 2003 — but I don’t know of any other composer who’s tried it. I do, however, know a lot of composers whose work is hard to find, inaccessible, and rarely performed. At the end of the day, I want my music to be “out there,” to be readily available; I also want to be part of the solution to the copyright mess rather than part of the problem. Yes, it’s a business decision; it’s also an ethical decision.
And that’s where Creative Commons comes in. Less restrictive than a traditional copyright, but more stringent than leaving something in the public domain, Creative Commons lets artists and creators choose what kind of license they want to put on their work.
I’m far from the first creative person to do this — the novelist Cory Doctorow has been using Creative Commons and sharing his work since 2003 — but I don’t know of any other composer who’s tried it. I do, however, know a lot of composers whose work is hard to find, inaccessible, and rarely performed.
Yes, there is an inherent risk to adopting this kind of model.
What is Creative Commons?
From creativecommons.org: “Creative Commons is a nonprofit organization dedicated to building a globally-accessible public commons of knowledge and culture. We make it easier for people to share their creative and academic work, as well as to access and build upon the work of others. By helping people and organizations share knowledge and creativity, we aim to build a more equitable, accessible, and innovative world.” In other words, Creative Commons has staked out a middle ground between traditional copyrights and the public domain; rather than “all rights reserved,” works licensed through Creative Commons have “some rights reserved.”
Is Chris’s music copyrighted?
With the exception of Missa Brevis and All Flesh is Grass, my music is not copyrighted. Instead, it is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Which means...?
It means that you can share and adapt it, but you need to share any adaptations that you make, and you can’t charge money for them. And whatever you do, you need to give Chris credit for the original piece.
Does “NonCommercial” mean that I can’t perform or record Chris’s music?
Of course not! You’re welcome to do either — if you let Chris know, he may even be able to be there. But what you can’t do is sell your adaptation. If you decide to arrange one of Chris’s pieces for recorder octet, for example, that’s fine, but you need to share what you do, without charge.
I’m still confused.
That’s okay — Chris is here to help. If you have any questions about any of this, just email [email protected] and ask.
From creativecommons.org: “Creative Commons is a nonprofit organization dedicated to building a globally-accessible public commons of knowledge and culture. We make it easier for people to share their creative and academic work, as well as to access and build upon the work of others. By helping people and organizations share knowledge and creativity, we aim to build a more equitable, accessible, and innovative world.” In other words, Creative Commons has staked out a middle ground between traditional copyrights and the public domain; rather than “all rights reserved,” works licensed through Creative Commons have “some rights reserved.”
Is Chris’s music copyrighted?
With the exception of Missa Brevis and All Flesh is Grass, my music is not copyrighted. Instead, it is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Which means...?
It means that you can share and adapt it, but you need to share any adaptations that you make, and you can’t charge money for them. And whatever you do, you need to give Chris credit for the original piece.
Does “NonCommercial” mean that I can’t perform or record Chris’s music?
Of course not! You’re welcome to do either — if you let Chris know, he may even be able to be there. But what you can’t do is sell your adaptation. If you decide to arrange one of Chris’s pieces for recorder octet, for example, that’s fine, but you need to share what you do, without charge.
I’m still confused.
That’s okay — Chris is here to help. If you have any questions about any of this, just email [email protected] and ask.