EXCLUSIVE: ‘I’ll Always Have a Soft Spot For John Williams’ Score For Home Alone’ – Thomas Hewitt Jones on Legends, Inspiration, and Christmas

Christmas music often risks falling into the trap of predictability, yet Thomas Hewitt Jones manages to sidestep it with a grace that feels effortless. His compositions balance reverence and wit, tradition and modernity, offering moments of genuine connection. There’s a discipline to his work, an understanding that simplicity in music, much like in film, is never as simple as it seems.

In talking to Thomas, you meet a craftsman who is as meticulous as he is inspired. His approach to Christmas is less about spectacle and more about substance, a rare quality in an age where the loudest voice often wins. What is it about Christmas that draws him back year after year? Perhaps it’s the challenge of making something timeless, or perhaps it’s simply his way of contributing to a tradition that continues to evolve. Whatever the reason, his work has become a fixture of the holiday landscape, and it’s hard to imagine the season without it. In this interview, we won’t give away all the answers—but rest assured, Thomas brings the same depth to his words as he does to his music.

Hello, Thomas, and thank you for taking the time to speak with me. Your carols carry an air of effortlessness, as though they’ve always been part of the holiday tradition. Yet simplicity in music is often the hardest illusion to create. What, for you, is the most challenging part of crafting a carol?

Hi there – it’s a pleasure, thanks for having me – and you are very kind about my carols. Much has been written about in musical aesthetics about the idea of the sublime. It is always an interesting challenge for a composer to write something that sounds fresh yet timeless – music that feels like it was written yesterday and somehow resonates with the popular consciousness.

There’s an undeniable wisdom in your music for children. You write with humour, but never condescension. How do you ensure that your work respects the intelligence of young audiences while still connecting with their sense of wonder?

When I was a child I was very fortunate to not only grow up in a musical family, but also sing in choirs at junior school with a wonderful music teacher called Michael Spencer (who sadly died earlier this year). He was instrumental in the musical upbringings of so many of us, and showed us that an uncompromising taste in music was incredibly enriching even for young children. Rather than grow up listening to music that was dumbed down for children, we listened, sang and participated in the greatest classical music there is, like the J.S. Bach St John and Matthew Passions, even at the tender age of about 11 or 12. This really made an impression on me not only in terms of music appreciation, but also in terms of the attitude towards the audience for which I would later compose. Having two young children myself, it became pretty obvious early on that children should not be spoken down to. They are like sponges, and I truly believe that there is so much goodness to learn and absorb in the world. Apart from music, I’ve noticed that children really appreciate a good story, well told. And so with my compositions for young voices, I try to pack in the content and yet write something that is rewarding to sing. It is always a fine balance between some music that can be enjoyed on first listening, and is rich enough to warrant renewed performance in a busy world that is saturated by music.

Music is as much about listening as it is about creating. Your work has become an essential part of Christmas for so many, woven into their celebrations and memories. I’d like to ask about your own relationship with music during this time. Do you find moments in this busy season to pause and immerse yourself in the work of other composers? Are there particular artists, genres, or pieces that resonate with you?

Yes absolutely. I have always listened extremely widely, and even though the core classical composers represent the musical area from which my journey began, I am extremely wide-ranging in my musical interests. For me, irrespective of genre or audience, music that has a genuine human intent and emotional meaning, and is also well-crafted, floats my boat. There is so much music in the world, and often new composers coming up seem to emulate other commercially-successful music in order to try and make a quick buck. This is why, in my humble opinion, there is so much noodly piano music being written today, and I’m personally not a fan. There are certain facets of music composition which always stand out to me – perhaps most notably, great voicing, which is of course the secret of good orchestration. This is perhaps a facetious comment, but clever voicing all leads back to Bach chorales!

Collaborating with legends like Stephen Fry and renowned ensembles carries its own kind of responsibility. Do you ever feel that weight, or do you find their presence liberates your creativity instead?

Stephen Fry was an absolute pleasure to work with, as he was when we met in the studio in 2011 for one of the London 2012 Olympics animated cinema films, which I scored and which Stephen narrated. He was utterly charming, and characteristically encyclopaedic about music. He correctly identified a subtle musical nod I had included towards the style of Albert Ketèlbey, a 20th Century English light music composer, and Stephen got it! The thing that I’ve realised recently is that professionals are at the top of their game for a reason – they are absolute masters of their craft. ‘The Christmas Story‘ was recorded remotely, and I received just one take from Stephen, which slotted in to the orchestra recording perfectly and was absolutely impeccable. Job done. What a privilege to work with someone of that stature.

Some of the most evocative Christmas memories are tied not to the visuals of a film but to its music. As someone who has mastered the art of bringing festive emotions to life through sound, is there a film score or piece of music from a Christmas movie that you hold in particularly high esteem?

I’ll always have a soft spot for John Williams’ score for Home Alone (1990). The nineties were a wonderful decade to grow up in – being honest, probably slightly easier than kids have it today, and there will always be something about that (albeit invented) American image of the huge detached family home, with all its decorations and presents, during the festive season. Of course, hardly any young family growing up today would be able to live like that now, but this was the optimistic era of the boomers. I was very happy in the ’90s at my first school, and it’s always very nostalgic watching that film again as it brings back so many feelings. The main theme song “Somewhere in my Memory” was of course nominated for an Academy award, and it later took on even more meaning when I became friends with Leslie Bricusse, it’s lyricist, towards the end of his life. I have at home a copy of Leslie’s song-book, his oeuvre written over the course of his life, and he inscribed it “Dear Tommy – coals to Newcastle. Leslie.” Far too kind, of course, but what a sweet, sweet man.

When you compose, do you ever think about how your music will live in the hearts of people who hear it, or is your process more focused on the moment of creation itself?

For us creatives, the writing process is always focused on the piece of work in hand, and so we aren’t always aware of what’s going to be successful (of course depending on how one measures success). Usually, publishers launch new music and try to make commercial successes, but at the end of the day it is the quality of the music itself that will touch people (or not). I guess I am saying that it’s really out of our control, but like any craftsman or craftswoman, we try to do our best work most of the time.

For many of us, Christmas music is a comforting routine—familiar carols and songs that we play every year without much thought. But as a composer, your relationship with music must be more layered. If you were to curate a list for someone who wanted to experience the full emotional spectrum of Christmas music—beyond the standards we all know—what would you include?

The orchestrated version of Camel Carol gives a light-hearted yet profound perspective on the Wise Men’s journey. What drew you to their story, and why did you decide to explore it through the voices of these begrudging dromedaries?

This slant on the Camels’ experience of the Nativity was actually the wonderful idea of my friend and lyricist collaborator Gordon Giles, who is also Canon at Rochester Cathedral. His idea (still potentially theologically sound!) was that the camels themselves are grumpy at having to make their journey to the manger. The time signature of 7/8 seemed to us to be perfect for camels which have the hump, in both senses.

Success in music can mean so many things—accolades, public recognition, or simply the joy of finishing a challenging piece. You’ve certainly experienced this firsthand with your song A Funny Song Christmas, which has taken on a life of its own. It feels like it’s reached every corner of the globe—honestly, I’ve heard it in places I never expected, and it seems to have set records for its sheer number of plays. For you, what defines success as a composer? Has your idea of success evolved as you’ve watched a piece like  A Funny Song Christmas become a global phenomenon?

You are very kind. To be brutally honest, my own measures of good music (great harmony, tight structure, great voicing…oh and where possible, soaring melody) are unchanged by commercial success. I’m quite aware that the global Tiktok audience is not concerned by these same things – but I think people are aware subconsciously of good and bad music, because it touches them some way (or doesn’t.)  Funny Song is no great art, but the melody (though delivered nonchalantly in the recording) was definitely tightly constructed, and I do feel that perhaps contributes to its success.

I have to say, Regards from Rochester is absolutely stunning. The collaboration between the BBC Singers, John Mountford, the Royal Ballet Sinfonia, and yourself is nothing short of monumental. The level of craftsmanship is extraordinary. Could you tell us more about how this project came together? What inspired you to bring such a remarkable team of artists together?

Thank you for your kind words. ‘Regards from Rochester‘ was a most wonderful commission which took about a year to write. John Mountford, then Director of Music of Rochester Choral Society, commissioned me to write the work for the Choral Society’s 150th Anniversary; my ambition was to really take the time to capture the history and vibe of the Medway area. As I delved deeper and deeper into my research for the concept and lyrics, I discovered endless fascinating tales and facts about the locality relating to strategic defence, culture, trade & industry, but all of which had human stories and made for a very rich basis for the oratorio. I have to say that Rochester and the Medway area has an extremely fascinating history, but one that is sorely juxtaposed by social deprivation of recent times – the Medway towns were relatively affluent until the devastating closure of Chatham Dockyard in 1984. The surrounding area gave so much content to form the basis for ‘Regards from Rochester’, and I am very proud with the not only the work itself, but also the sumptuous album recording with the BBC Singers, John Mountford and the Royal Ballet Sinfonia which was a total joy.


Natali Abernathy Avatar