Words by Joe Williams

With a childhood steeped in classical training and informed by prestigious musical education, Chloe Flower was, initially, on a fairly straightforward path.

From Juilliard to the Royal Academy, Chloe’s talent for keys and strings saw her studying at some of the most renowned institutes in the world — but it was in London where she began to deviate “and started to embrace a less classical space."

Inspired by the sonic exploration of nightclub DJs who reworked, remixed and re-interpreted original tracks to “combine sounds”, Chloe’s concept of what music could be and do was radically broadened, and from this emerged an even fresher idea — that she could be a composer. Despite having years of experience reinforcing the idea that only a certain type of person — i.e., not her — could write music, for the first time in her life, now in her 20s, the possibilities seemed endless.

It wasn’t long before learning and playing music was jostling for space with composition and production. Contributing music for artists like Nas and Celine Dion had to sit alongside getting signed to Def Jam Records. Scoring short films and high-profile adverts had to be balanced with writing two highly acclaimed contemporary albums, and performing in hallowed venues would run parallel to soundtracking feature-length documentaries. Rather than trading in her traditional musical heritage, Chloe has forged a unique legacy as someone who passionately brings the worlds of pop and classical music together — whilst always maintaining a profound and deeply passionate love for the piano.

Speaking from her home in LA, with a 2023 Christmas album fresh under her belt and an ever-expanding glistening resume, the composer’s joy for all things music is infectious. We speak about the transformative power that learning an instrument gives, why diversity and representation in the industry are important now more than ever — and dive into a particularly iconic Cardi B performance which put Chloe on the mainstream map forever.

How did your music-making journey begin?

My earliest memory as a child is of music, which I think is remarkable. Someone asked me recently, “What’s your earliest childhood memory?”, and I said, “Oh, my gosh, it's me at the piano.” I fell in love with music from an early age. And I don't think that's necessarily a special gift — to fall in love with music at a young age — but my parents recognized my love for music, and they gave me all of the things I needed not just to pursue a musical career, but to generally explore. So I started with the piano, and then I played the violin and the cello. I got a full spectrum of classical music instruments. I didn't start conservatory-level training until I was 12, which was relatively old compared to the other students, you know — everyone was like, “You're so old.”

But I didn't start composing until my 20s. I never considered it an option. I remember I used to play pop songs and write pop song chords. When I was younger, my mom asked me, “Why don't you write a song?” And I just thought: would I ever do that? Because there are already so many amazing composers around, and I was still learning. So it felt like there was no point. This was a kind of limiting belief I had that didn't shift until I was older.

Do you think this was reinforced by a lack of representation and diversity in the composing space?

I think representation is so important in all areas, especially in classical music. When I grew up, I didn't have social media. So I never saw a female conductor, I never saw a female artistic director. I never learned a piece of music that wasn't written by a man. From the age of two years old, until I graduated college, no one had ever given me a piece of music to learn that wasn't written by a white man. I remember being in a piano lesson at the Manhattan School of Music, where I studied with Zenon Fishbein, who was an amazing teacher. But I remembered at one lesson, he told me that I had “played like a man that day”. Like that was the bar of achievement, that was the standard. The status quo in music.

I think it doesn't necessarily all have to do with being a man — you know, my hands are very small! But it was several things; this idea that to be in classical music, as a woman, you just had to have a different life and a very certain path. I was often criticised for my clothing. Women often are more criticised for what we wear, you know, if it's too revealing, or if it's too conservative, or if you're wearing too bright of a colour — there’s always some kind of issue! So stepping out of that idea and that belief system, I look back and I think it was limiting. I hope that young kids look at me — even if they don't like my music — and see me as one of the many women who came out and said, “Listen, I'm going to try this, and just be brave enough to be rejected, and to fail, and to not sound as good as Beethoven — but that's okay.”

What did that transition from musician to composer look like?

I switched studios from Manhattan to Juilliard and then I went to the Royal Academy of Music in London and studied with Aaron Shorr. And it was in London that I started to embrace a less classical space. I started experimenting, I started going to nightclubs — just listening to remixes and listening to DJs combine sounds. That was really cool. So I think my composing was a result of my wanting to produce an experiment with new sounds. I did that first when I signed with Babyface in 2010. I signed to Def Jam Records under his label. It’s a very pop music label, very hip-hop-driven. And I just couldn't find producers who understood the way I treated beats or instrumentals! I treat every sound, whether it’s the hi-hat or the 808, as a kind of orchestral instrument. It has to ebb and flow the way a classical tune might. I didn’t just want a copy-and-paste track. So, I had to learn how to produce because I couldn't find a producer that understood what I wanted. So then, after learning the technology, and while I was writing all these string parts and all these beats, that idea became stronger: could I possibly write a melody as well?

In terms of scoring, I had my start working with Kevin Hart on a bunch of Nike campaigns for him. Then I did the Misty Copeland documentary, A Ballerina's Tale. These were my first major projects as a female composer — and yeah, it was really fun. They were very different sounds from each other. I remember, for Misty’s film, when I first met the director Nelson Jordan, he wanted to hire me specifically because I was a woman of colour, which I thought was amazing. I sent him like 10 songs, which I thought were great… and he was like, “This sounds like Hans Zimmer, and I don't want it to sound like Hans Zimmer.” He wanted it to be much more simple. So that was an exciting project. It was great for me because I wasn’t upset at all, it was more like “Okay, I can learn from this.” It's all about learning, and none of your work is ever a waste of time, regardless of whether the director uses it or not. Some of the music I wrote for Kevin Hart which didn’t get used, I put on my first album. For instance, ‘Bohemia’ was written for his movie.

How do you navigate the difference in creative processes between your compositions and scoring for a project?

One of my goals is that I want people to hear me play the piano, without seeing me, but still recognize me as a pianist. For instance, I once had tendonitis and had to ask one of my players to play a piece for me as a demo, so I just needed to write. I sent him the music, and he played it, and when I played it back for my boyfriend he was like “That doesn't sound like you.” He has zero musical training whatsoever, so that was impressive — and interesting to see just how personal and deep writing and playing music is. However, when I'm writing for, say, a Volvo advert where I’m using only the piano, the orchestra and the sounds of the actual car, that is much less about me. It’s all about the car and the dynamic of the visuals.

What are the first few steps that you take to sink your teeth into the project creatively?

Firstly, I rarely have a temp track. So I just sit at the piano or keyboard and watch and listen to whatever it is, over and over again. I don't do chords first; I work on the melody, and I think about instrumentation while looking at the picture, finding where the breaks are seeing where things move in the dialogue, and where there needs to be space. I kind of blueprint it out, and then I go deeper and start to layer. I'm always layering, layering, layering. I never took anything like a composing class, so I don't even know if you’re supposed to do that, but it works for me.

What sort of collaboration do generally you look for in a director or collaborator?

I love open-minded people. I always want to work with people who I love and respect, you know, as artists, too. I am a little bit picky when choosing projects because not only is it a lot of time, but it's going to be there forever. It's like your legacy. And you’ll have to spend time with these people.

What is it about the piano that drew you to it above all other instruments?

The piano is something that I fell in love with because it contains every sound. I feel like it can create every musical colour. And, of course, it’s just such a beautiful instrument. I remember even when I was four years old, sitting at a grand Model D piano, and appreciating how gorgeous it was. It’s a shame that I have to play a different piano every time I perform. It's just so sad. My goal is to get to a place where I can be like Liberace, and just bring my piano everywhere I go, just my piano. I appreciate how the piano can be so many different instruments. It can be percussive, but it can also be so melodic — it’s just more of a dynamic instrument for me. And I was better at it.

I’m lucky to be a Steinway Artist — they allow me to use their pianos at any performance. They even once delivered a piano for me. I did a K-pop song with Tiffany Young, of Girl’s Generation. We shot a video together in Malibu, on a mountain in the rain, and Steinway brought me a white piano. They've been so wonderful. It was after the 2019 Grammy’s that they reached out to me. It’s funny: so much of my career came from that performance with Cardi B that I did. It was just another show for me — I had no idea it was going to go viral. But after that time, they reached out and they wanted me to be a Steinway artist. We were using a Steinway throughout all of the rehearsals, and we were intent on using a Steinway for the performance.

But, when we found out that Liberace's crystal piano was available, we just knew we had to use it. Cardi's team happened to be in Vegas, and I was like, “Well, if you're in Vegas, the Liberace Museum is there and they have a great piano made out of rhinestones.” They went and looked at it, brought it back with them and had it restored. In fact, they had the lid redone — so that Cardi could twerk on it. The acrylic would have bent under someone’s weight. Cardi's team had the surface redone so that she could stand and dance and twerk on it.

In what way was that Cardi B show so pivotal?

It was a historic moment — not just because of people’s reactions to my facial expressions, but because it was a moment for pop musicians to see just how cool it was to have a classical musician and instrument on stage with them. So the number of people who called me and asked me to perform with them on stage live afterwards was massive. If you see performances after that Grammy show from 2019, you start to see so many pianists, harpists, cellists and violinists accompanying pop artists on stage.

It kind of made classical music and classical musicians more celebrated. Now you have little kids, who might otherwise not have been interested, wanting to get into classical music and instrumentation because of that. It worked exactly how I hoped it would! I got thousands of messages from parents, videos and pictures of their little kids pretending to play the piano while watching that show. It just made me so happy, because that's really the goal of everything I do in life, like whether I compose or perform. It's all about music education to me, because I really, truly believe that music education can make the world a better place.

What does composition mean to you?

Composing to me is an exercise in freedom and self-awareness - freedom from rules, status quo and judgement — and the humbling awareness that there is so much I don't know. Music can change things. If you're in the worst mood ever, and you listen to your favourite song — there's no way you're going to feel worse. At the very least, you’ll feel the same — but really, you’re so much more likely to feel better. And then imagine playing an instrument, and learning an instrument. It just has these transformative effects that are so instant. They’re tangible and they’re immediate, and you can see communities and kids and their parents changing as a result of proper music education. So that was on of the most important things that came out of that performance: all of a sudden, thousands of little kids wanted to learn how to play the piano. That was amazing.

You know, I was so lucky to have parents who had not just the financial ability, but the insight to say, “Hey, music education is important. It's part of the culture, it's going to make a well-rounded person. It’s going to create a better, more empathetic person.” They already knew that. But so many kids don't have that opportunity, and they're not going to have that opportunity unless we demand it. We see all these sports geniuses coming out of high and elementary schools, but we don't see nearly as many musical geniuses — simply because they don't have access. They don't even know what they’re missing! I think it's just as important as maths and science. If anything can come out of my career, I want it to be inspiring kids to play music. Whether it’s to play classical or pop music doesn’t matter — I just want them to be inspired.