In my opinion, it takes more than a fancy name on the title page to
draw a connection between a piece of music and astronomy.  Programs don't
mean anything except in the mind of the composer; what counts (from the
astronomical perspective; not from the musical one, from which any piece,
of course, should be able to stand on its own without any programmatic or
emotional connotations other than what is in the score) is the emotional
resonance that the music generates with its subject in each listener's
perception.

I have heard almost none of the pieces that have been mentioned in this
thread (not least because most modern music still fails to generate any
kind of emotional resonance in me) - another one that I think has not been
mentioned is Wilfried Hiller's "Pegasus 51" -, yet those that I have heard
typically fall far short of that goal.  I keep wondering, "What does this
have to do with astronomy?" They may be...  'interesting' works, even
valuable in their own right, but this astronomer fails to hear the universe
in them.

I think in investigating this connection, it is more interesting - though
also much, much more subjective - to explore pieces that generate this kind
of emotional response, even if they were never intended to be programmatic
in that sense.  This is a question I have been pursueing for a while,
though I failed to get much inspiration in that matter from my colleagues.

In case anyone is interested how I feel about my subject of study, the
answer is conveniently given in just two words:  Bruckner's Fifth.  It is
the most perfect match I have encountered so far.  Looking into the night
sky, gazing across the universe, I most often hear Bruckner in my mind -
and though I prefer to listen to Bruckner without any specific programmatic
images in my mind, I find it much easier to recall my feelings in such
situations while experiencing his music than without it.

Scriabin falls short in comparison to Bruckner, although he stimulates the
same mode of emotional resonance in me.

Interesting reading in this context, containing various recommendations of
music amateur astronomers may want to accompany their stargazing with, is
an article by Stephen Waldee that was posted on rec.music.classical and
sci.astro.amateur years ago.  A keyword search for "Waldee", "Bruckner",
"Astronomy" on http://groups.google.com or similar usenet archives should
bring it up.

I also inquired to a handful of my colleagues once if they associated any
kind of music with their subject of study.  Few did.  One of my friends
in Munich, a distinguished but highly controversial astronomer of the old
school, did not have any particular associations, although he said that,
during observing runs, he had sometimes asked the night assistant to put on
some Rhythm and Blues (That was at a time when observers still had to ride
in the prime focus cage in the telescope construction itself, instead of
sitting in a cozy control room).  Nevertheless, he, as well as a few others
(including a theoretical cosmologist who lives in 'Brucknerstrasse'), did
understand my choice.

I am also reminded of a time when I accompanied my advisor on an observing
run at the 90-inch telescope on Kitt Peak.  She had left the choice of
music to me for that night.  I had put on the "Alpensymphonie" early in
the evening (I would never defile Bruckner by listening to him under such
circumstances while not being able to devote my full attention to the
music), and around the time that the sun was setting and we were getting
ready to do some skyflats, the music reached the 'Summit' and 'Vision' at
the climax of the work.

Of course, sitting in the control room, we did not get to see much of the
sky at that point, but the telescope operator for that night had stepped
outside onto the gallery encircling the dome to have a cigarette, and upon
his return, he remarked that this music had been perfect to watch the
sunset by.  And I assure you, the sunset over the desert, as seen from Kitt
Peak, is a glorious sight.  It's nice to know that Strauss lived up to it.

It is also interesting to note that reviewers, in discussing certain,
"stellar", works, often feel tempted to resort to celestial allegories.
I remember that Kurt Pahlen, in a discussion of the Jupiter symphony (the
work that, along with Bruckner 5, I consider to be the peak of human
artistic achievement), compared Mozart to a "god, who, in the infinity of
space, combines, creates and directs constellations".  The liner notes to
a Wand recording of Bruckner's Ninth speak of moments when the "flow of
time seems suspended, just like the stars in the sky that are moving along,
yet still seem motionless" (all paraphrased from memory, so excuse any
inexactness).  IMHO, pieces that evoke such comparisons all by themselves
are much better candidates for 'astronomical music' than most of those
listed in this thread.

One might also mention that Joseph Haydn is said to have conceived the
first ideas for "The Creation" while looking through William Herschel's
telescope.  While I have a hard time feeling a resonance between the Vienna
classics and my concept of the universe (except for the equation Perfection
in Art/Mozart 41 = Overall Perfection/ Universe), the Introduction
certainly comes much closer to the mark than most 20th century works with
pretentious astronomical titles.  Rangstroem's Symphony No.  3 "Song
beneath the stars" also seems to have been rather directly inspired by a
nightly sea journey.  Rangstroem's music is not my favourite, but, yes, I
do feel some resonance between this symphony and my recollection of a
nightly ferry crossing on the English channel.  Works for me.

But even the experience of listening to music that has no explicit
programmatic or emotional connection to astronomy takes on a special
quality in these settings; one of the CDs I took with me on my evening
walks during a recent visit to the radio observatory at Green Bank, WV,
was a collection of Lieder by Robert Volkmann (some of which, like the
gorgeous "Aus den Himmelsaugen droben", do of course have some celestial
connotations).  Listening to them while walking among the telescopes
STAring up into the darkening sky seemed to compress the entire spectrum
of existence from the vast magnificence of a billion-year-old cosmos to
the peaks of complexity and diversification in human culture into the
experience of one moment.

Volkmann, by the way, was interested in astronomy.  Herschel himself was a
musician and astronomer.  Robert Simpson was an amateur astronomer.  Any
others?

Daniel Christlein