Harrison initially wrote in a dissonant, ultramodernist style similar to his former teacher and contemporary, Henry Cowell, but later moved toward incorporating elements of non-Western cultures into his work.

The majority of Harrison's works and custom instruments are written for just intonation rather than the more widespread equal temperament, making him one of the most prominent composers to have experimented with microtones.

[1][2] The family was initially well-off financially from past inheritances, but fell on hard times leading up to the Great Depression.

Harrison lived in the Portland area for only nine years before moving with his parents and younger brother, Bill, to a number of locations in Northern California, including Sacramento, Stockton, and finally, San Francisco.

His mother decorated their home with Japanese lanterns, ornate Persian rugs, and replicas of ancient Chinese artifacts.

[5] The family's frequent moves in search of work, however, provided the adolescent Harrison little opportunity to develop any long-term friendships.

He instead retreated into furthering his own personal education, often spending time at the local library to read books on everything ranging from zoology to Confucianism.

He recalled being able to read two books a day, and the extremely wide diaspora of interests prompted him to connect disparate influences throughout his life, including in his future compositions.

[11][12] After attending a Palo Alto performance of one of Cowell's pieces for piano and improvised percussion in June 1935, Harrison would proclaim it to be one of the most extraordinary works he had ever heard.

In 1941, he transferred to the University of California, Los Angeles to work in the dance department; teaching students Laban movement analysis and playing piano accompaniment.

"[18] The pieces he was writing at this time, however, were largely percussive works using unconventional materials, such as discarded car brake drums and garbage cans, as musical instruments.

[29] In 1943, Harrison moved to New York City and worked as a music critic for the Herald Tribune at the behest of fellow composer and tutor Virgil Thomson.

[21][23][30] While there, he met and befriended many modernist composers of the East Coast, including Carl Ruggles, Alan Hovhaness, and most consequentially, Charles Ives.

Despite attempting to complete new music for publishing, many of them (including one from the commission of Ives) were violently torn up and blackened out by Harrison from an extreme lack of confidence as he began to internalize the negative opinions of his compositions and public image.

[35] He wrote frequently to Cowell and his wife Sidney in the first few months, expressing his deep regret and depression for what he felt to be a wasted career and adulthood.

Many of his colleagues predicted the breakdown would herald the end his career, but Harrison continued to compose in spite of the stress plaguing him.

He ultimately rejected the dissonant idiom he had previously cultivated, and turned toward a more sophisticated melodic lyricism in diatonic and pentatonic scales.

The two years following his leave from the hospital in 1949 became one of the most productive of Harrison's entire career, yielding impressionistic works such as the Suite for Cello and Harp, and The Perilous Chapel and Solstice.

[40] In an oft-quoted comment referring to the frequency ratios used in just intonation, he said, "I'd long thought that I would love a time when musicians were numerate as well as literate.

They also constructed gamelan-type instruments tuned to just pentatonic scales from unusual materials such as tin cans and aluminium furniture tubing.

The highlight of the concert was the world premiere of Harrison's depiction of the story of Orpheus, which used soloists, the San Jose State University a cappella choir, as well as a unique group of percussionists.

Harrison was outspoken about his political views, such as his pacifism (he was an active supporter of the international language Esperanto), and the fact that he was gay.

[46]Like many other 20th-century composers, Harrison found it hard to support himself with his music, and took a number of other jobs to earn a living, including record salesman, florist, animal nurse, and forestry firefighter.

The CD also included Harrison's Elegy, to the Memory of Calvin Simmons (a tribute to the former conductor of the Oakland Symphony, who drowned in a boating accident in 1982), excerpts from Solstice, Concerto in Slendro, and Double Music (his collaboration with John Cage).

[49] Many of Harrison's early works are for percussion instruments, often made out of what would usually be regarded as junk or found objects such as garbage cans and steel brake drums.

His music is typically spartan in texture but lyrical, and harmony usually simple or sometimes lacking altogether, with the focus instead being on rhythm and melody.

[52] Another component of Harrison's aesthetic is what Harry Partch would call corporeality, an emphasis on the physical and the sensual including live, human, performance and improvisation, timbre, rhythm, and the sense of space in his melodic lines, whether solo or in counterpoint, and most notably in his frequent dance collaborations.

The American dancer and choreographer Mark Morris used Harrison's Serenade for Guitar [with optional percussion] (1978) as the "basis of a new kind of dance.