There is an unhelpful myth in the music world that great compositions mysteriously visit an artist in a flash of divine inspiration. But the reality of most artists—including the giants of the past—is much messier. My music composition professor once observed of his students, “They write an idea, and then tell themselves that the idea is no good. In reality, a lot of them have good ideas, but they lack the skills to bring their ideas to their full potential. Change a chord here, rearrange some material there, and then you have something to be proud of.” In short, he was saying that while their compositions had much potential, what these students needed was more grit for the task of revision.

This struggle isn’t unique to students—history’s greatest composers faced the same challenge. Take, for example, Franz Liszt’s La Campanella. As it originally stood, the piece was deemed virtually unplayable. Even the most accomplished pianists struggled with its demands. Liszt himself, a prodigiously talented virtuoso, recognized the need for revision. Several years after publishing, he revisited the piece, rewriting it into a more refined, playable version. Today, this later iteration is a staple of the piano repertoire.

Johannes Brahms, too, was no stranger to revision. His celebrated Piano Quintet in F Minor underwent multiple transformations before it reached its final form. Initially conceived as a string quintet, Brahms was unsatisfied with the result, opting to rewrite the piece for two pianos. Still unsatisfied, he fully rewrote the work yet again for the definitive instrumentation we know today. The final result was not just a work of beauty but a testament to the necessity of revision.

And then there is Beethoven. His String Quartet in C-sharp Minor is widely regarded as one of the greatest pieces of chamber music ever written. Incredibly, in his meticulous approach to composition, he filled over 500 pages of drafts before he settled on his final version. The quartet was not the product of a single moment of inspiration but of relentless revision. 

These examples remind us that crafting great music is not about having perfect ideas from the start but about having the patience to refine them. I am not the first to express this sentiment, and it rings truer for that reason: Great art is not written—it is rewritten. So next time you find yourself frustrated with the need to rewrite, remember Liszt, Brahms, and Beethoven. They understood that the first draft is only the beginning of the compositional process. Their genius lay not just in their initial inspiration but in their ability to recognize what needed improvement and their willingness to revise until they achieved something truly extraordinary.