Hearing Gotham

As I mentioned earlier, I've become more interested in putting my interest/knowledge/love of film music to use (beyond composing). So I've begun some preliminary work on a project or two that 1) gives me something to do and 2) forces me to listen more attentively to my favorite music.

I've decided that these projects are going to deal with Jerry Goldsmith because 1) he's my favorite, 2) he's one of the best ever and 3) astonishingly, there seems to be very little in the way of actual research out there regarding his music (most film music researchers tend to focus on "old" film music). Meantime I've been trying to figure out how to approach this whole concept of 'Writing About Music'. Further complicating the issue is that writing about film music is its own entirely different animal. Film music has its own sets of traditions, expectations and gestures that can be reinforced, broken or rewritten at any time. Oh yes: there's also that whole "It's connected to the film" thing which one has to have some kind of understanding of how it works in theory. I guess I'll be brushing up on that, too.

One of the things I've been reading in order to gain a greater understanding of writing about film music is Danny Elfman's Batman: A Film Score Guide, pictured above. (I also have a host of film music books that I'll be diving back into once I get them back from a friend of mine). There are other volumes in this series but I figured starting with a score I know well (and dearly love) was best. Ms. Halfyard's reading of the film provides a healthy (and useful) analysis of both film and score and how they interact. The analysis is largely specialised and the discussion is long on both musical examples and terminology. Ms. Halfyard's discussion of the score, its context, the film and certain aspects of the comic mythology of Batman over his many incarnations (and especially the view of the '60s television show as an aberration) is quite interesting. She brings to light interesting facets of the score's composition that I'm quite certain Danny Elfman had no real idea he was doing (that being said, there's quite a lot of unity in the score). She also discusses the controversy surrounding Elfman's composition technique and through the cunning use of logic quite brilliantly puts it to rest. (Some, though, will never be convinced even if they sat in his studio and watched him compose an entire film's score).

One thing reading this text has done is cause me to reexamine my Batman scores in all of their incarnations. When I was a kid I thought that Danny Elfman's Batman scores were far superior to those of Elliot Goldenthal. When I found out that Hans Zimmer was going to be involved in Batman Begins I was horrified. Sure, James Newton Howard was there, too, but we all knew which musical personality was really going to dominate. Over the years, though, I've learned to appreciate them all as their own completely separate takes on the Batman mythology. There is much stylistic diversity in all of these, but, interestingly, each of the films got a score appropriate to it. Through a friend I also recently acquired the La-La-Land release of the two-disc set of music from Batman: The Animated Series. It's good stuff that carries on the same tone that Elfman set. I haven't listened to all of it but will soon.

Michael over at The Temp Track suggested I write a paper comparing and contrasting the Elfman and Goldenthal approaches to Gotham City and the Dark Knight. While it's an excellent idea, I have other plans. Quantum phase shift anyone?

The Temp Track

Just thought you all should know that I've added my friend Michael to the blogroll.

Michael is studying musicology at the University of Colorado. He keeps an interesting blog regarding music for film, t.v., and games as an extension of his area of emphasis.

He Would've Been 80 Today

Jerry Goldsmith, that is.

Nearly 5 years after his death it's still sometimes difficult to accept that there won't ever be another new Jerry Goldsmith score. I used to get so excited at the prospect of a new score by him. The day he died I got a call from the Pikey. I hadn't turned on the news yet and I had no idea. I kind of went around in a stupor for the rest of the day.

In the last ten years of his life (1994-2004) his music became increasingly focused, pared down, linear and, in many cases, more muscular (I often wonder if Goldsmith was an admirer of Miles Davis because of these aspects). The last ten years gave us notable scores (if not films) as The Shadow, Rudy, First Knight (a favorite of Goldsmith's, as I understand it), The Ghost and the Darkness, Air Force One (like most of W.P.'s films it's trash, but it's fun), L.A. Confidential, The Edge, Mulan, The Mummy (supposedly Jerry hated this movie, which doesn't explain why the score rocks so hard other than the fact that he was a consummate professional), The 13th Warrior, Hollow Man, The Sum of all Fears and Star Trek: First Contact, Insurrection and Nemesis. And that's leaving out at least a dozen films not worth mentioning.

I've been thinking a lot about his music for a long time now. In my opinion he was the innovator at the leading edge of film music for 30 or so years. He was the first to use electronics extensively as more than a novelty or "weird" sound. They were a part of his orchestra if the film required it. He was also one of the first in film to use the studio as a musical instrument.

More than anything there are two things I miss. The first is a sense of musical "space" that Jerry had. He could create more music out of fewer materials than pretty much any other composer. And unlike many other composers, he knew the value of silence. He didn't just spray music on a sequence like fire retardant foam. Some of my favorite suspense sequences are those where, for example, you get a dense string chord (or short series of chords) followed by a silence. To me this has a much eerier effect than pouring on some sort of run-of-the-mill electronic effect.

The second is his sense of rhythm. Nobody else could build entire cues out of mixed/asymmetric meters the way he did and keep it fresh and interesting. And he did it in such a way where he didn't necessarily feel the need to hit every single agogic accent within the rhythmic cell (ex: 7/8 bar wherein the composer strikes every instrument in the orchestra at the same time with a hammer on eighths 1, 3, 5 and 7).

Since I've spent all of my life as a composer straddling the twin worlds of film and concert music I've had to contend with those who patently dismiss film music as "derivative dreck" (unless, of course, it was composed by a composer who writes the majority of their music for the concert hall. Somehow, then, their music is "better"). Increasingly this view is dying but only because those who hold it are, too. (I enjoy pointing out to those folks that the vast majority of contemporary concert music could also be classified as "derivative dreck").

I learned a lot about composing from listening to his music. Probably more, in fact, than listening to just about any other composer save a handful.

I guess what has surprised me in the time since his passing is that no one has stepped forward to fill the void left behind. Maybe there is no void. Maybe Jerry Goldsmith was a singular entity.