Hitchcock
+ Hermann = Halloween
The
cymbals roll, the brass grows louder, and the strings play a
crazy rhythm as they swirl upward in a dramatic spiral. At the
peak of the crescendo, the suspenseful music ceases, and then
a crashing chord spills out of the entire orchestra.
A
Mahler symphony? A movement from Richard Strauss? Nope. A moment
in a movie.
There
are no statistics on this, but the odds are good that most Americans’
exposure to symphonic music comes via the movie screen, not
the local orchestra or classical radio.
Quick,
think of the shower scene in “Psycho.” You may see Janet Leigh
in your mind’s eye, but it’s a good bet you can also hear those
screeching upward thrusts of the violins, courtesy of composer
Bernard Herrmann.
Remember
“Lawrence of Arabia?” I dare you to think of it without the
sweeping Maurice Jarre music in the background. And who among
us can say “Star Wars” without hearing that John Williams theme
in our heads?
The
Phoenix Symphony proved, after a fashion, the greater popularity
of movie music over classical symphonies a couple seasons back
when it presented a concert of music from the “Lord of the Rings”
films. Tickets sold faster to that concert than to any other
concert in the history of the orchestra. Surprisingly enough,
the orchestra hasn’t done anything like it again–until now.
The
movies of Alfred Hitchcock resonate in our minds as portraits
of our most nightmarish inner landscapes. In a typical Hitchcock
film, someone’s always after you, and you don't know who or
why. Figures of authority–real ones like policemen, or stand‑ins
like renegade airplanes–menace the heroes and threaten the peace.
The most majestic instance of this is “The Birds,” when the
authority of nature rises up against all of humanity.
A
great deal of the impact in a Hitchcock film is in the music,
which is usually by a man named Bernard Herrmann. Born in 1911
in New York City, Herrmann studied with the eccentric Australian
composer Percy Grainger and attended Juilliard. He became a
staff conductor for CBS Radio, where he met Orson Welles and
supplied the music for an off‑the‑wall Welles project
in which H.G. Wells’ “War of the Worlds” was broadcast as a
news story, as if it were really happening. This landed him
Welles’ first feature‑length movie, “Citizen Kane,” and
suddenly, Herrmann was a major film composer.
It
was when Hitchcock hired Herrmann for 1955's “The Trouble With
Harry” that the composer found his perfect directorial match.
From that point until 1964's “Marnie,” Herrmann supplied music
for every Hitchcock film. In “The Man Who Knew Too Much” (1956),
the big cantata performed at London’s Albert Hall in the climax
of the film, was actually written by another composer, but Herrmann
got to play the conductor in his only screen appearance.
“Vertigo,”
“North by Northwest” and of course, “Psycho,” were all Herrmann
scores, and each of them has a place in the history of film
music. In a move unusual for the time, Herrmann used only strings
in “Psycho,” where lesser composers might have stooped to the
clichés of spooky muted brass or clattering percussion, especially
for the shower scene. The lack of instrumental music in “The
Birds” somehow fuels the shock of nature in rebellion. In its
place, Herrmann inserted manipulated recordings of birdsong.
The
Phoenix Symphony will present music by Herrmann and other composers
as part of “Hitchcock for Halloween,” conducted by the orchestra’s
new resident conductor, Lawrence Golan, at 8 p.m. Oct. 27 and
28, and at 2 p.m. Oct. 29, in Phoenix Symphony Hall. As film
clips from Hitchcock’s cinematic masterpieces play, the Symphony
will perform the music live.
Playing
film music live‑in‑concert is a new, profitable
venture for symphony orchestras. But why stop there? Symphonic
music in concert with images presents unlimited possibilities.
Why not create new work that is equally visual and aural? In
standard movies, the music is strictly subordinate to the film,
but in some new genre‑yet‑to‑be, it might
be possible to balance the two. Perhaps a film director and
a composer could be co‑commissioned to make a film that
depends almost entirely on music for its expressive content.
The result could be screened, with the music performed live
by a symphony orchestra.
We
are a visually‑oriented culture, but music can plug into
that without sacrificing integrity. Popular music has music
videos. Why shouldn’t the symphonic world trade on the success
of movie music and develop new combinations of orchestral music
and motion pictures?
Listen
to Ken on “Two on the Aisle” every Sunday at 7 p.m. on KPHX,
1480 AM.
Visit
www.kennethlafave.com.