It was 1993. I was 11 years old, standing nervously in line to see Jurassic Park. I was technically too young to watch it, but something
pulled me there anyway. Something bigger than dinosaurs. And once the film started—with those massive sounds, those roaring creatures, that music—something inside me shifted. I didn’t know the name “John Williams” back then. But I knew one thing:

It wasn’t just a movie. It was a moment of awakening.

For a while, I chased what many young artists do: success, fame, money. I wrote music for games and publishers, studied composition and lived in a tiny attic apartment in Cologne.

I wasn’t rich, but I could live off music. That felt like a small kind of magic already. I composed obsessively and dove into every tool I could find—recording, sampling, mixing, sound design. And while my skills grew, I started to feel a quiet question bubbling up:

That’s when the journey turned inward.

In 2015, I heard about a workshop in Vienna led by Thomas Chase Jones, a composer known for his work in animation. I felt called to go. I didn’t know why, but I trusted the pull.
What I found there changed everything.

Instead of sticking to the usual theory, TC (as we call him) shared his real method—a deep, powerful way of composing based on intervals, not just scales and chords. It was unfamiliar. It was intense. And it was exactly what I had been missing.

During breaks, I helped fellow students understand it. I simplified it, rephrased it, and made it accessible. And something clicked again—not just in the music, but in me.

TC saw it too. The next year, I was no longer a student—I was standing beside him, teaching.

What I learned from TC wasn’t just technique—it was a new lens. A new way to see the invisible structure of music, to shape emotion with precision, and to compose with purpose.

And now, I pass that lens on to others.

Today, I run MITA – the Music Interval Theory Academy, where composers from around the world learn to compose faster, more originally, and with more confidence, using interval-based thinking.

If your music feels stuck in patterns …
If you’ve mastered the rules, but still struggle to find your voice …
If you know there’s something deeper—something magical—that you haven’t tapped into yet …

Then you’re exactly where you need to be.
This isn’t about learning more. It’s about learning to see differently.
Welcome to the deeper layer of composition.

Let’s unlock it together.

It started when I met Spud Murphy, a brilliant arranger from the swing era who taught a radically different approach:

At the time, I was juggling five shows a week with my partner Steve Rucker. Deadlines were brutal. But Spud’s ideas gave me speed, clarity, and a fresh kind of power. I didn’t have time to intellectualize—I had to compose fast, and the interval method delivered.

What began as survival became a calling.

The more I explored the intervals, the more music opened up. I discovered combinations, shapes, and colors that weren’t in any theory book. I wrote them down, built systems, and eventually started mentoring other composers who were hungry for something deeper.

He attended one of my lectures in Vienna. Sat in the front row. Asked a thousand questions. After the seminar, he kept writing me. I wrote back. A lot. Over time, he took the same path I had—only faster. Eventually, we joined forces to bring this way of thinking to more composers around the world.

Together, Frank and I created the Interval Theory Composition Course at MITA. We built it from the ground up—lessons, demos, orchestration workflows, all designed to help composers think in intervals and unlock their own sound.

Today, I’m proud to say this method has helped hundreds of composers find their voice, escape the sameness trap, and write music that actually moves people.

Welcome to the Circle of Interval Magicians!