Despite having studied both astronomy and music in earnest since the day I was born, I have written less than a handful of pieces involving strong influences from the former. However, when the status of Pluto as a planet was subject to question in 2006, I felt it was time to bridge the gap. Though as an astronomer the logic of the issue was obviously sound and the decision to reclassify sensible and productive for the field, I couldn't help but let the artist in me shed a tear; the wonder of Pluto the oddball planet, though now easily explained, long served as an offbeat source of comfort for myself and others. Around the same time, I had my first opportunity to hear a performance on the carillon and soon decided that if ever there was an instrument better suited to represent the tiny and frigid ball whose custodial associations were being so hotly debated, I certainly had never heard it. Between the idiosyncratic tuning of the bells and the carillonneur's position high in the tower, alone among them, it seemed like there had to be a common ancestor. Eventually I set to work on the present composition, the structure of which is based on Pluto's orbital characteristics. Its dubious nature is reflected in the work's harmonies, which exploit and explore the major/minor clash inherent in the carillon's design. Though I initially thought of the piece as some kind of elegy, as work progressed, I decided that such a dour perspective was not quite right. Pluto, after all, is still very much alive and serious scientific (as well as poetic) interest in it has been at an all-time high. Thus, I decided to think of this work more as a postcard; consider it a piece of friendly correspondence in honor not of the planet that used to be, but of a little guy at the edge of a very big place.

—Gabriel Lubell