Robert Amory

Rob was well known as a generous supporter of the arts. What was so unique about Rob’s support was that it went beyond the parameters of a usual commission: he supported the risk-taking spirit, the openness to challenge, and the profound significance of bearing witness to humanity.

In my catalogue of over a hundred compositions, a few stand out as the most ambitious – and therefore, the most challenging – to compose. They include the concerto Xiaoxiang, which was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in 2015, and A Thousand Mountains, A Million Streams which won the 2021 Grawemeyer Award, popularly known as the “Nobel Prize for Composition.” Without Rob, these works would not have been created, and I am only one of the many composers whom Rob generously supported.

What I cherished most were our endlessly wonderful conversations. It was the companionship of a fellow artist who understood the imagination, courage and hard work in artistic creativity. Rob used to say, “my shoulders are behind yours.” I am hardly alone in saying: Rob is the best friend one can ever have.

Rob’s photo is always next to where I compose. I can hear him reminding me, “Have you tried hard enough? Is this daring enough?” With his gentle and passionate voice in my heart, I know Rob will continue to be part of my artistic journeys ahead.

Lei Liang, Ph.D.
Chancellor's Distinguished Professor of Music
University of California, San Diego

I first met Rob around 20 years ago when I was asked to come to a curious meeting. I was told by colleagues there was a gentleman who was interested in commissioning music. As someone involved in the new music scene my input on how best to proceed was requested. It seemed like many innocuous meetings I have had before and since, but it turned out that this meeting was different. The results of this meeting changed many people’s lives and the face of contemporary music.

At that meeting, Rob explained that he wanted to commission music. A simple enough statement—but I quickly came to realize he didn’t want to do that in anything resembling a modest way. Rob was very clear that he wanted to help composers realize their visions without restrictions. He was adamant that the works he wanted to bring into this world should be “major” artistic endeavors. No stop-gap filler pieces or snappy concert openers. He understood from the beginning that he wanted substantial pieces in every respect. No restrictions on content, forces or length; in fact, he favored large pieces of substantial length and impact. He always swam against the tide. When it came to art, compromise wasn’t part of Rob’s vision. This unbridled approach was unprecedented in my experience. I had met many people who wanted to commission music to entertain, apologize, or redress social ills. Rob wanted to make art. His whole life was about making art.

Thus began a 20-year working and personal relationship. Rob was sometimes a partner, sometimes a friend and sometimes a respectful combatant. We didn’t always see eye to eye but we dreamed a lot of dreams, engaged the other in deep meaningful reflection of the purpose of our work, and had no shortage of laughs along the way. Rob stood for something. That came from his considerable artistic sensibilities and abiding humanity. The results of this partnership were some of the most satisfying, personally fruitful, and artistically impactful of my career. Though as a visual artist Rob made art in the public eye throughout his life, in my dealings with him he was a “silent partner”. Music was not his personal art form but the art he made possible in and for others. The list of composers he helped give voice to speaks for itself: Kati Agočs, Peter Child, Don Crockett, Lei Liang, Ken Ueno, Chinary Ung and many others. Rob made us all partners and helped us to realize our potential, bringing our collective visions to the world. We have all been changed by his wisdom, generosity, and friendship.

Gil Rose, Director
Boston Modern Orchestra Project

Rob and I met in the summer of 1970 when I approached him regarding the creation of an outdoor sculpture for one of my architectural commissions. Our shared love for contemporary art and architecture provided the foundation for a 52-year friendship. Rob’s keen eye and meticulous attention to detail were joyfully celebrated every time the wind played with his colorful kinetic compositions. Frequent unveilings of new work at his Alston machine shop/studio were great excuses to gather his ever growing diverse group of friends.

Years later, our friendship deepened further when I became the architect for his new home and studio on Cape Ann. With Rob at the helm, the design process became a journey, one that resulted in a dramatic arrangement of spaces that hovered over the high, granite-clad spine of the site, while opening views to sheltering oaks and the sea beyond. One Folly Point was to be a place to live and work to the fullest. It was also a place to share his artistic endeavors, as well as the works that he had collected by other artists, with the community. Whenever Rob was moved by a piece of art, whether a painting, pottery, music or literature, he would not be fully satisfied until he learned more about its creator. That led to many lasting relationships that I was honored to share.

Rob’s interests, ideas and passions touched my life in so many ways and will forever. I could always count on him for challenging new music, provocative authors, delicious food, sensible politics, generosity and connection to community and, most of all, the importance of beauty in our lives. His curiosity was endless.

Scott Teas
Architect, Portland, Maine

I met Rob in the late 70’s or very early 80’s at Harvard University’s Development Office and again later at a Young Audiences Gala. It was then we hit it off and began to meet up regularly in Boston, the Museum of Fine Arts, theatre, concerts, films, exhibitions, and in Cambridge, Rockport, Salem at Peabody Essex Museum and at his beloved Folly Point - we had meals, excursions, social events, and lots of discussion on the screened porch or in front of the fireplace when it was cold. In the summers, before dinner we’d swim at a friend’s quarry in the late afternoons in clear, deep, sun- warmed water. He would swim fast, I was slow, floating - both savoring the tranquil beauty.

Rob was a rare friend and a unique man with whom I shared an admiration for sustained curiosity, creativity, informed discussion, and grit in our approach to life. We also liked a bit of naughtiness in people, in ourselves- that’s certainly a part of why we were excellent pals for over 40 years. He was the older brother I never had — mentor, teacher & co-adventurer. He introduced me to new aspects of art and music - ways of seeing, ways of listening. He introduced me to his engaging friends, lovers, and family.

We helped each other through the dark places in our lives. We laughed at our foibles and celebrated successes. One time he was in a creative writing mode and I said “ write me a poem!” He laughed and then he did, a clever piece lambasting me for making such an outlandish demand.

When Rob recovered with keen determination from that first stroke, he felt he’d like to try traveling. We flew to Sante Fe to see an old friend of his and her husband. It was a tiring trip and at that altitude he needed oxygen once a day for half an hour. Nevertheless he was determined to absorb the Sante Fe experience in every way, including purchasing the colorful sculptures he installed on his Gloucester deck overlooking the sea. One afternoon our hostess asked if he’d like to go to Taos, he calmly replied in the negative - “if you’ve seen one Pueblo house you’ve seen them all”. I found his authenticity refreshing, he knew his mind.

There is no doubt Rob had a zest for life - a talented artist in a wide range of disciplines, he found unique ways to express himself, my favorite was his sculpture and I admired the engineering skills he learned to make them so perfect. He loved music, loved it - classic, modern, contemporary, 80s rock, early and late jazz. It was with gusto that he began to seek out composers of works he thought exciting, and commissioned some wildly talented men and women to write new pieces.

Rob was a precious friend, and despite difficult times; it was a remarkable journey he invented for himself. I am grateful he invited me to join him for part of it.

Mary K Eliot
Cambridge, MA