Rory Bricca is a composer from Tucson, Arizona based in New Haven, Connecticut. He is also a classical and jazz pianist, pipe and Hammond B3 organist, choral singer, horn player, and South Indian Karṇāṭak musician. As a Yale undergrad, he enjoyed studying subjects like astronomy, cognitive science, linguistics, and philosophy and using concepts in these fields to influence his work. For example, his award-winning Active Galactic Nuclei for orchestra and live projections was inspired by an astrophysics course on Einsteinian relativity and black holes; it was also premiered by the Boston Pops in their 2025 Music of the Cosmos concert. His saxophone quartets have gained recognition from some of the leading classical saxophonists in the country and been published by Murphy Music Press. He has six toes on his left foot, which he uses regularly to climb trees and occasionally to walk 67 miles from New Haven to New York City. His parents are independent documentary filmmakers.
When not playing music, what are you up to?
I love to climb trees (yes, as an adult). There’s a deeply restorative feeling of gripping a piece of nature and trusting your life in it. I also like playing board games with friends.
Is there a particular composer that inspires you? Would you share why?
Viet Cuong is a major inspiration to me. I admire his playfulness and sense of humor in combining found sounds or extended techniques with more traditional/tonal influences. Also, having grown up playing in wind ensembles throughout middle school, high school, and college, I appreciate how he has brought out the band world’s sometimes underappreciated enthusiasm for original, contemporary textures.
How do you begin a new composition? What begins the process — an idea or a specific instrumentation?
I usually begin with either a musical or extramusical idea I’d like to explore, then sit down at the piano and improvise to generate ideas.
Is there a work that brings to mind a particularly happy memory? For instance, is there a piece that made you want to begin composing, or one that always reminds you of home or a favorite place?
I remember I first listened to Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring in my family’s car on a road trip to Colorado in around 10th grade. For the next several years, I would listen and relisten to that piece (as well as the “8-bit Rite of Spring” video by 8 Gigue-Bits) over and over again in total awe.
What do you hope audiences take away from hearing your music? Is there a particular kind of experience you’d like listeners to have?
I hope audiences walk away with a smile on their face, feeling the piece is somehow both relatable and human, and yet unexpected at the same time.
Is there a dream accomplishment you envision for your career? A commission from a particular ensemble or organization perhaps?
Wherever my musical journeys take me!