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European Opera & Hollywood Film Scores

‘Today no art comes nearer the Wagnerian ideal than the most vigorous and spontaneous art-form of the twentieth century, the art of cinema. It is a synthetic art, a Gesamtkunstwerk, in the best Wagnerian meaning, being again the combination of drama, acting and music' (Miklos Rozsa in Thomas: 1991: 22-23).

Movie music of the classical Hollywood period of the 1930's and 40's is hugely indebted to the musical techniques of the Romantic, late 19th century operatic composers. The choice for early 20th century American composers of film music to apply the techniques of late 19th century European opera, presents a chain of commonalities linking them inextricably, and also a substantial set of divergences leading to a conflicting and opposing comparisons of the two musical forms. In her book ‘Unheard Melodies' Claudia Gorbman asks ‘What is music doing in the movies, and how does it do it?' (1987:2); further to this I will trace from where the traditions and techniques enshrined in early Hollywood sound cinema actually came, how they evolved and what the fundamental differences are.

Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique (1830) stands as an early and revolutionary example of the combination of music and narrative soon to characterize 19th century musical expression. Led by the technical innovation of idée fixe, Berlioz's music is unified by a repeated melody representative of the woman in the story with whom the young artist is infatuated. Berlioz's individualistic compositional approach had the most perceptible impact on Liszt, and is arguably an early example of leitmotivic form utilized in 19th century opera and 20th century film music.

Liszt presented revolutionary monothematic form with single musical fragments forming the central focus for whole movements, much like Berlioz's idée fixe conception. Liszt's Faust Symphony (1854-7) is a good example of this, wherein the music functions descriptively to underscore the narrative based on Goethe's poem. Liszt popularised this idea of using other arts to ‘fertilize' music, plunging further into melodramatic and narrative connections, particularly in his melodramas such as Lenore (1860) or Der traurige Monch (1860). Arguably, Liszt's melodramas or recitations change the function of music. The musical form is still crucial for the full appreciation of the text, but in this context the music follows the form of the text; music is no longer a primary ingredient, rather it is shaped by, or functions to illustrate, the text. In Lenore there are many instances whereby music takes on a gestural form; example illustration one gives a rhythmic drum-like sense of the troops getting closer, as the musical dynamic increases, and as the dotted poetic rhythms of the German text are articulated and reflected in the music. The pictorial illusions and recurring themes in the music help to underpin the narrative, and consequently the fragmentary form is gained by the rhythmic content and fundamentally by the text; literature and music are reinforcing one another in their expressive richness to produce a heightened expression. Liszt's melodramas are of great importance historically as they anticipate the reconsideration of the function of music in early 20th century music, and the techniques that were accordingly adapted and applied to early film music.

Wagner's series of music dramas, the Ring Cycle (1853-77), were the first compositions to attract the attentions of analysts interested in proclaiming the ‘leitmotif' as a means of unifying large-scale narrative compositions. A.W.Ambros first used the term in an article (1865) about Wagner operas and Liszt symphonic poems (Kennedy: 1996:418) and was later used by Hans von Wolzogen in 1876 (Dahlhaus and Deathridge: 1984: 111). Literally translated as a ‘leading motif' or a ‘representative theme', it is a recurring musical fragment linked to a certain character, situation, object or idea. It is most readily applied to the work of Wagner as he is famous for his handling and subtle combination of the ‘leitmotif' to construct complex large-scale symphonic textures, however, it can also be seen in the idée fixe of Berlioz and the thematicism of Liszt. They use the ‘leitmotif' to keep some semblance of musical structure whilst concurrently guiding their audience around a form made so intentionally ambiguous; within the symphonic conception Wagner strived to find a way of guiding the listener around the intricate web of infinite melody typical in his operas.

The ‘leitmotif' is a synthesises of two 19th century techniques, that of Thematic Recollection and Thematic Transformation. Bellini's Il Puritani (1835) is a good example of thematic recollection whereby there are near exact repeats of musical thematic material; the minstrel sings the same song as a means of identifying himself and locating his king. The close association between music and libretto in Bellini's opera was admired by the likes of Berlioz and Wagner. Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, as already mentioned, is a good example of Thematic Transformation, whereby there are developmental alterations of a motif and the resulting themes retain independent identity.

In such a large-scale structure as Wagner's Tristan and Isolde (1857- 9) the leitmotif prefigures dramatic happenings in both an aural and visual way, giving connotative value to a series or combination of musical material. There are many examples of Wagner's use of the ‘calling card' technique, a term coined by Debussy and Stravinsky referring to music resembling a kind of signal to it's recipient. Wagner saturates the very fabric of the opera with one of the most famous of the leitmotifs, the ‘Tristan' motif. This will ‘come to symbolize the workings of fate' (Negus: 1981:17), with the unresolved chord representing the infinite striving of Tristan and Isolde's love, and will also be associated with the drinking of the poison and the nihilistic themes in the opera. The motif, and the infinite melodic form that it takes on, enhances and reflects the literary elements and themes that the opera addresses. The ‘Tristan' motif surfaces through the texture of the orchestral polyphony at all points in the opera in which Tristan or Isolde have nihilistic tendencies, or seek death. It arises as Brangane offers ‘For pain and wounds a balm is here, for deadly poisons, healing salve.' and as Isolde accepts the offer claiming that ‘This draught serves my need', the motif at this point foreshadowing further attempts at death. It is again used when Tristan falls onto Melot sword at the end of Act II, when Tristan waits for the arrival of Isolde in Act III scene I, and again as Isolde dies at the end of the opera.

At every point, then, the motif is used to enhance the visual performance on stage; it is used to amplify the retrospective narrative themes of striving and is used also to draw out the inner psychological landscapes of the characters. So, after having already been heard previously in the opera, when the Tristan motif appears at different points in the opera, the music has symbolic inferences thus audiences are directed through the opera through musical associations and their connotative value; the leitmotif is an important feature that contributes the to comprehensibility and expressive intensity of Wagner's works.

Through the gradual evolution of film techniques and, more specifically, of musical directors in the Hollywood film studios, it became clear that bespoke music scores were required to precisely match or underscore narrative activities in early sound film. But, the tendency for silent and early sound film to mime the symphonic style of the late 19th century by using a patchwork of pre-existing Romantic music meant that they were left with the same predicament as Wagner; that of the formal difficulty of how to unify, organise and give sustained meaning to large-scale works. The need for direct symbolic or narrative connection between music and film was so intense in early sound film music that the idea of leitmotif was seized upon, and this marks a distinct and direct connection between classic Hollywood film music of the 1930's and 1940's and the 19th century European musical techniques discussed so far. Classical Hollywood composers Max Steiner and Erich Wolfgang Korngold forged such motivic procedures in their compositions.

Max Steiner ‘epitomises classical American film scoring...Moreover, his sense of music's dramatic functions accords with that of Richard Wagner, whom Steiner praised as the embryonic model for movie composers.' (Darby & DuBois: 1990: 15) and Erich Wolfgang Korngold, like Steiner, was a very active film composer in Hollywood in the 1930's and 1940's and together they set the standard of classical film scoring during that period. Korngold started his musical career as a serious operatic and symphonic composer, wrote his first ballet at the age of 11 and his first opera in 1914 at the age of 17. This classical training had a profound effect on the compositional techniques he used in film music, and he pioneered the symphonic film score relating back technically and aesthetically to the work of Wagner and 19th century scoring techniques. Both Steiner's and Korngold's musical origins were in Europe, and this perhaps is what prompted a turn back to their European roots in their film scoring; maintenance of their musical and cultural origin through the application of familiar late 19th century European musical methods.

King Kong (1933) was Steiner's first celebrated achievement, and this ‘left no doubt in any producer's mind about the value of original music in filmmaking.' (Thomas: 1991: 59). King Kong illustrates perfectly the principles of composition, mixing and editing used in classical film scoring, as proposed by Gorbman (1987: 73). Gorbman argues that there are seven main techniques, including "narrative cueing" and "unity", both of which can be seen in Steiner's scoring of King Kong. Acting as a vehicle for "narrative cueing", Steiner's music, much like Wagner's operatic music, aids the conveyance of time, place, and characterisation. In the opening title sequence of King Kong, for example, Steiner's strongly rhythmic music defines the genre of the film, sets the sinister mood and also anticipates the musical-symbolic themes of the film. Kong's descending semitone leitmotif that connotes his power and strength is introduced in much the same way as Wagner introduces his main themes in operatic preludes: his ‘Tristan' motif in Tristan and Isolde is the first theme to be introduced. The solution to the "unity" principle is of course the leitmotif itself; ‘Classical cinema, predicated as it is on formal and narrative unity, deploys music to reinforce this unity.' (Gorbman: 1987: 90-91) As in Wagnerian opera, ‘The repetition, interaction and variation of musical themes' and leitmotifs lend a certain musical and dramatic cohesion, adding to the unity and relate very definitely to the form of the film itself.

Max Steiner firmly believed that ‘Every character should have a theme' (Steiner in Kalinak: 1992: 113) and Gone with the Wind notably uses the Wagnerian technique of leitmotif to lend coherence to the musical underscoring. The theme commonly named the ‘Tara Theme' is first heard in the opening titles of the film and the expansive, grand and epic-like theme with a proud violin melody and colourful orchestration, is used in the film to represent the magnificence, the panoramic natural wonder, the deep south tradition and the opportunities that Tara offers. Tara, though it is a geographical place almost takes on the role of a character, just as influential to the narrative and the drama (if not more so) as Rhet or Scarlett, which is why Steiner felt that it was deserving of this sumptuous and triumphant theme. Its return throughout the film, by the very nature of the leitmotif, is used to amplify the visual or thematic actions going on on-screen, and is used to underscore or be representative of the unseen. It is used many times including when Mr. O'Hara talks to Scarlett at the beginning of the film: ‘Why land is the only thing in the world worth working for, worth fighting for, worth dying for. Because it's the only thing that lasts'; and again in a re-orchestrated chromatic version to connote the misery of Tara's possible fate when Scarlett asks Ashley for money; again in the scene to represent the re-ignition of Scarlett's enthusiasm for her homeland: ‘Then there's nothing left for me, nothing to fight for, nothing to live for'. ‘Yes there is something. Something than you love better than me though you may not know it- Tara!'; and of course at the end: ‘After all, tomorrow is another day!'. Scarlett's longing to get away from Atlanta, as Darby and Dubois suggest (1990: 64), is always supported by the Tara theme which is suggestive of ‘where her heart lies; and during her trials as she travels through the ravaged countryside, the prospect of home is continuously emphasized by the main theme.' It is significant, then, when the motive reappears in its chromatic form, as it cues a much darker and less optimistic tone; the harmonic, rhythmic or melodic form of the motive, again taking influence from Wagnerian technique, supports the connotations and connotative associations of the narrative. Already from this brief tracking of only one of the themes evident in Steiner's score, one can see that Wagner's influence is immense:

‘Wagnerian opera....has quite a bit in common with film music, for in Wagner full themes and tiny, quasi-thematic fragments- motifs- are important both in their immediate emotional impact and their relationship to the dramatic structure of the opera than they are to its underlying musical structure.' (Brown: 199\4: 15).

There are many other leitmotifs evident in Gone with the Wind, with each character having their own musical motif, juxtaposed by Steiner to dramatic, comic or poignant effect (see appendix one from Thomas: 1991: 60- 65). This is typical not only of Steiner, but also of Wagner. In the Ring Cycle Wagner proves that music in an invaluable dramatic tool in the construction of character; ‘Each character and dramatic element can be analyzed in terms of the quality and development of its leitmotif. Wagner's influence on film scoring is incalculable.' (Downie and Lefford: 1999).

Leitmotifs are also evident throughout Steiner's score of Now Voyager. The most obvious of all the musical themes is the ‘love' theme which is present throughout the whole film and, much like the ‘Tristan' motif in Tristan and Isolde, saturates the very fabric of the musical score. In can be heard in many incarnations, firstly and conventionally in the opening title sequence; the music anchors the epic feeling, the sense of voyage and of unrelenting movement towards a goal and the possibility of eventual resolution or happiness, thus introducing the key themes of the film. It is heard at key narrative structural moments in the film, the beginning and the very end for example, which give it a strong structurally supporting presence. The orchestration of the theme and its musical manifestation expresses the mood, the subconscious motivations and inner tensions of a character or situation. For example, the theme is heard during the scene when Charlotte is having a nightmare: the machinery of the boat in which Charlotte lays is represented by rhythmic music in the orchestra's low registered instruments, the roll of a crash cymbal represents the rushing water, followed by the minor-tinged love theme over agitated ascending and descending semiquavers, its connotations this time not of the embrace of love and freedom, but the fear of its rejection. We hear it again in an altogether different context representing the development and progression of the relationship of the two lovers: it is used as the diegetic music of the dance band as the couple sits in a restaurant. The theme is stylized differently with energetic dance rhythms and Latin percussion to connote the development, for the good, of their relationship. Telling too are the times at which the theme is not heard: the theme is never present during a scene with Charlotte's severe mother, as she represents the absolute antithesis of the musical theme; her power-crazed menace is, typically of the classical Hollywood score, musically represented by a sinister, minor-tinged chromatic musical language, thus anchoring and underscoring the fearful verbal cues of ‘she's coming'.

Korngold and Steiner show distinct Wagnerian traits, however, a substantial difference between film music and opera has to be the discontinuity of music in film. The expectancy in film music is for it to respond cohesively to rapid cutting within scenes, and Korngold moves with fluency within this discontinuous medium. He does this by taking a step away from Wagner and by being ‘Set free from having to compose extended melodies to be sung by the characters of the drama, Korngold employs what might be termed as a compressed or condensed leitmotif structure, unique to film scoring, in which the bulk of the musical material is constructed from the various leitmotifs.' (Brown: 1994: 99). With around eighty percent of Kongold's The Sea Hawk (1940) being underscored with music, Korngold's classical training allows him to apply classical motivic economy in combination with intensely Romantic colours, harmonies and textures, to maintain musical flow. In The Sea Hawk the motifs have undergone the typically 19th century technique of thematic transformation and are unified by subtly sharing musical material. ‘Thorpes' theme is characterised by a heroic fanfare which is linked to both Thorpe's and Donna Maria's ‘Love' theme by a falling tone and a rising fourth. This economic technique means that the music is making a symbolic connection between common values and ideas, such as courage, love and freedom. Brown reminds us that it is not only a Korngold technique, as Steiner uses a similar technique in King Kong; the three-note Kong motif is woven into the love theme between Driscoll and Darrow to parallel the man versus monster mythology in the film. (Brown: 1994: 104). These recognisable motifs mean that the music can instantly cue character, situation and context to what sounds like a continuous fabric of music, which is a typically Hollywood scoring technique. Split-second musical metamorphosis from character to character can be seen at many times in the film, and a good example is the scene in the rose garden with Dona Maria and Thorpe. Dona Maria's theme is heard at first, but simultaneously with the cut away to a shot of Thorpe, the first four notes of his theme typically arrives with him. This brief two-second interjection is ended by a return to Dona Maria's theme as the camera moves back concurrently. Brown marks this ‘feat of musical dexterity' in his book Overtones and Undertones (1994: 106).

A further distinction often made between opera and film music can be illustrated by examining more closely the structure of their leitmotifs. Whilst Wagner's leitmotivs arguably reduce to a few archetypes, the fragmentary structures of film tend to force leitmotifs into distinct irreducible modes. In addition to this, Wagnerian opera also has a tendency for his leitmotivic material to constantly metamorphose and modify to form part of an extended ‘infinite melody' as coined by Wagner in his essay ‘Zukunftsmusik' (1860). As Wagner's leitmotivs travel infinitely in a through-composed structure, able to be reduced to key a musical fragment, Steiner and Korngold's music is arguably tied to the film structure unable to escape its distinct musical formations. To counter this, however, is the analysis of Korngold's music for The Sea Hawk (1940) by Brown (1994): as I have already shown, the leitmotivs in Korngold's music can be seen to be reducible to a singlular melodic motif (a falling tone and a rising fourth).

The tendency in classical Hollywood scoring of the 1930's and 1940's to exercise ‘mickey-mousing' is a further extreme example of the discontinuities between 19th century European and 20th century film scoring. Called such due to its customary use in animated cartoons, mickey-mousing responds to the need for film music to hastily represent character traits and events, and is defined as ‘music making actions on the screen explicit- "imitating" their direction or rhythm.' (Gorbman: 1987: 88). Examples of this can be found readily in both Korngold's and Steiner's scores as it was a common way of scoring at a local illustrative level rather than a conceptual, motivic level. In The Sea Hawk, Thorpe attempts to gain the attention of Dona Maria and does this by dropping a belaying pin into the water below; this is illustrated by a downward harp glissando. In King Kong, when the tribal chief walks towards Denham and his film crew, his footsteps are illustrated by the consistent banging on a drum in synchronization with the steps. And in Now Voyager, Tina's descent down the stairs to greet her father is marked by musical descending gesture. This is reminiscent of the techniques used by Liszt in his melodramas, of gestural music used to reflect the narrative, but, however, is not a chosen compositional technique of Wagnerian opera.

The most significant difference between opera and film music, however, is the subordination of music to the primacy of image and dialogue. Film music is forced to follow the visuals at all points and is dimmed when dialogue dominance is desired. In this sense, then, film music arguably has no individual autonomy in the way that opera does; it is forced to be a very dependent, malleable form reliant on directorial decisions and audio-visual uniformity, as opposed to subjective expressivities. Even Korngolds scores which he claims to be like ‘opera without singers' have obvious examples of both the radical cutting back of sound levels during dialogue and in music's complete dependency on picture. For example, Royal S. Brown proposes that, in the opening scene of The Sea Hawk, "hispanicity" is invoked through the habanera rhythms and castanets in the music (Brown: 1994: 100). But I would argue conversely that the music is so dramatically cut back when dialogue is introduced that rhythms and instrumentation are near impossible to pick out.

More examples of this prominent curtailing of music are rife. For example, in another of Korngold's films, Deception (1946) we see the music responding directly to the commands of the dialogue. In the first meeting of the two protagonists near the beginning of the film, the music weaves in and out of prominent audibility in direct relation to the presence of dialogue: the music swells and punctuates the natural silences of dialogue, and predictably fades to allow for dialogue supremacy. Likewise, after their first scene together, we see Radcliffe and Novak strolling through the hustle and bustle of New York: the big-band music used as they wander is suddenly dimmed when dialogue begins and Radcliffe declares, "People don't do this in New York." This dimming technique relates to Gorbman's "Inaudibility" principle: music's ‘volume, mood, and rhythm must be subordinated to the dramatic and emotional dictates of the film narrative' and it's form ‘generally determined by or subordinated to narrative form.' (1987: 76). It is also referred to by Borwell and Thompson as ‘ "sneaking in" and "sneaking out"', whereby ‘the musical score may become prominent in moments in which there is no dialogue, and then is likely to fade unnoticeably down just as the characters begin to talk.' (324: 1997). The music of early Hollywood follows picture in the same way that music follows text in Liszt's recitations but, clearly, to a much more significant degree.

Film and opera have many things in common, but are just as distinguished by differences. They are both temporal art forms allowing for the drama to unfold over time (Burt: 1994: 4), but the crucial difference is that of the function of music in operatic structure and of the function of music in filmic structure. A very simplistic way of putting it is that music is more important in opera than it is in film. Although Rozsa bitterly believes that ‘Music is still considered as the salt that makes cinema meat taste better, but not as an equal ingredient which could be used with maximum efficiency in the kitchens of cinema cooks' (in Kalinak: 1992: 205), it is still the case that music will be subjugated to a purely functional position in film leaving the music of opera to reign supreme in its privileged cultural position. Film music and opera may share the technique of leitmotif, but in opera music is primary, whereas in film, music is always subordinated to dialogue and images. Music in opera is the primary driving force behind narrative construction, dramatic development and structural assembly, but in film, music is competing with many other forces: the moving image, the spoken cues, the celebrity, and to Thomas it also has to compete with ‘snobbism' which ‘come from outside the industry, from so-called music critics and highbrow music lovers, who have always tended to regard anything written for films as being of less value than anything written for the concert hall, the opera house, the ballet or the theatre.' (Thomas: 1991: 2).

Bibliography

Adorno and Eisler (1947) Composing for the Films, Oxford University Press, New York

Bordwell and Thompson (1997) Film Art: Fifth Edition, Mc-Graw Hill, New York

Brown, R.S, (1994) Overtones and Undertones: Reading film music, University of California Press, California

Burbidge and Sutton eds (1979) The Wagner Companion, Faber and Faber, London

Darby, W. & Du Bois (1990) American Film Music, McFarland, N. Carolina

Dahlhaus and Deathridge (1984) The New Grove Wagner, Macmillan, New York

Downie and Lefford (1999) http://web.media.mit.edu/-nyssim/ShadowPlay/music_for_characters.html

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Marks, M.M, (1997) Music and the Silent: Contexts and Case Studies, 1895 - 1924, Oxford University Press, Oxford

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Walker (1971) The Great Composers; Liszt, Faber and Faber, Plymouth

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Music

Bellini, Vincenzo (1835) Il Puritani

Berlioz, Hector (1830) Symphony Fantastique

Liszt, Franz (1854-7) Faust Symphony

Liszt, Franz (1860) Lenore

Liszt, Franz (1860) Der traurige Monch

Wagner, Richard (1857- 9) Tristan und Isolde

Wagner, Richard (1853-77) Der Ring des Nibelungen

Film

Now Voyager (1942) Irving Rapper (dir.)

Gone with the Wind (1939) Victor Fleming (dir.)

King Kong (1933) Merian C. Cooper (dir.)

The Sea Hawk (1940) Michael Curtiz (dir.)

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) Michael Curtiz (dir.)

Deception (1946) Irving Rapper (dir.)

European Opera & Hollywood Film Scores
By Laura Callaghan