Film Scoring in Italy
By Cesare Cioni
It all began in January, at the
Future Film Festival, which under the direction of Giulietta Fara and
Oscar Cosulich brings every year to Bologna the best of animated and
fantastic cinema from all over the world, with special attention to new
technologies. Thanks to the efforts of film critic and journalist Marco
Spagnoli, seven representatives of the new generation of Italian film
composers met for the first time at the same table to discuss between
themselves and with the public the gratification and the frustrations
of a very special profession. Although most of them had never met,
there was immediate understanding, and their unexpected verve gave way
to over two hours of information, stores and anecdotes, ending with the
promise that this would only be the first of many similar events. The
engagement was sealed that same evening with an unique and
unforgettable jam session in a cave in the old town. The composers put
on display their skills as performers, playing together and improvising
in a very special performance that will remain in our memory for a long
time.
The promise was kept on the 4th of
July. At the Genova Film Festival, directed by Cristiano Palozzi e
Antonella Sica, Marco Spagnoli repeated his achievement and brought the
musicians together again, in a slightly different group because of work
schedules. In an ideal “independence day,” the artists prepared the
first draft of a “manifesto” of the Italian composers of music written
to accompany imagesfor cinema or television. As in the best tradition
of artistic and literary statements, the document was drafted in the
course an animated discussion at the table of a local restaurant,
before being officially presented during a press conference just a few
hours later.
What follows is an extract of some of
the statements of the composers during the two meetings. Taken
together, these comments and remarks give an eloquent picture of the
status and the conditions of the composers that today write musical
scores in Italy, sometimes similar but often very different from these
faced by their colleagues in Hollywood.
Cinema Is Also Made Of Music
"Movies are complex works, and everything contributes to their
success," explains Marco Spagnoli. "We often hear about the 'miracle'
of Italian cinema, but I cannot think that only a few people can work
miracles, and that they are not the result of a group effort. One of
these miracles is film music. Apart from the fact that it gives us the
gift of emotion, we must acknowledge that today in Italy we have a
group of musicians that does not exist anywhere else, with the possible
exception of the United States, where conditions are quite different.
No other country has so many active musicians, and with such a variety
of talents. This is indeed a miracle. Cinema is an art, but it is also
a business: and a business that does not recognize the value of its
contributors is incapable of excellence."
"The thing that brought us together," adds Riccardo Giagni, author of
the scores for Marco Bellocchio's movies as L'ora di religione and Buongiorno notte, "is the fact that
we all really love movies, and not just because of our profession, but
because we feel part of that collective work that is called a movie. We
do not always see the same love in the other professionals that work
and live and invest in cinema. I believe that this is why we met today,
so that others would have a better understanding of the meaning of the
composition of film scores -- not just for art movies but for the
cinema in general, by focusing our attention on the work, the movie,
and on all the elements that compose it."
In this spirit, the "manifesto" -- still a big word for the first draft
of a document on which further work will be necessary -- purports to be
the statement of a few common beliefs on which to identify. Ezio Bosso,
composer, virtuoso performer and musicologist, author of the unique
score for Gabriele Salvatores' Io non ho paura, warns that "much work
on clarity and intent is needed before declaring a manifesto. Many
points need to be discussed in such a document. As far as I am
concerned, I would only sign a manifesto written about composers and
intentions, rather than a list of grievances."
"We should also extend our attention to the meaning of the word
composer," adds Paolo Silvestri, author of music for the theatre,
before he moved to movies with directors Marcello Cesena and Peter Del
Monte. "I wish that somebody could explain what it means exactly, not
just in film music, but in general in the Italian music world. Most
people would immediately mention the 'cantautori,' those singers who
write the songs they perform, but they are quite a different thing. And
then of course there are the arrangers, whose function nobody knows
exactly. This is a country of singers: composers are considered
technicians, and the concept of composition needs to be explained. Is
somebody who writes just the melody a composer, or one who writes the
melody and the chords, one who orchestrates or writes the instrumental
parts? DJs make music, but are they composers? The profile of the
creator of music needs to be redefined, and then we can discuss the
specifics of fitting music to images."
This is unfortunately a sore point: even many cinema professionals do
not understand the function of music in a motion picture, even to the
point of assuming that ideally a movie could dispense with it.
Recently, a professional film critic wrote in a national magazine that
a movie was "so beautifully filmed that he could have done without
music." The mention of this review causes quite a lot of commotion with
the composers of the group. They all know that their scores do not only
create an aural background for images, but they play with our emotions,
enhancing the images or giving them a discreet counterpoint that adds
new layers of meaning. In their best examples, scores give wings to the
images, as Giagni confirms: "We need to discredit this myth, this
often-quoted banality that the perfect film score is the one that does
not attract attention. Music that goes unnoticed is useless. It is
important that in a movie the music be beautiful: this is its role.
What is often not noticed, sometimes rightly so, is the way it works,
its entrances and exits, the nuances of the synchronization with
images, but we must live the beauty of music, because this is its most
significant aspect."
The Role of the Composer
In its first draft, the manifesto centers on the role of the composer
as one of the artists that collectively create a motion picture, and
one who gives a contribution more significant and crucial than a simple
technical advice. Together with the other creative professionals he is
at the service of the movie, adding his personal and individual voice
to the collective identity of the finished work. In order to do this,
he must add to his experience and craftsmanship his own sensibility,
maturated through his own journey of growth and research; with its
help, and together with the others, he will try to make each movie
unique.
"According to the Italian legislation," notes Bosso, "the authors of a
movie are the writers of the story and the screenplay, the director,
and the composer. In fact, the composer is often not considered as part
of the creative team, for many reasons: production problems, lack of
money, lack of time, and because very often the music is the last thing
to be considered, and we record it when the movie is finished. The
problem is the planning of the music, although with Gabriele Salvatores
[director of Io non ho paura]
I was quite lucky."
"Too often in the cast sheets the composed is listed as part of the
technical staff, rather than as part of the artistic team," adds Pivio,
author together with his accomplice Aldo De Scalzi of some of the most
original scores of the last few years, such as Il bagno turco by Ferzan
Özpetek (which sold over 300.000 copies on CD), Casomai by Alessandro D'Alatri, and
Per sempre by Alessandro Di
Robilant. "Because of this, the composer is seldom asked to participate
to the press conferences, although he would probably have a few
interesting things to say."
Further confirmation comes from Giovanni Lo Cascio, performer for many
years as percussionist in the field before he become a composer of film
scores himself together with his wife Elvira. "The composer of film
music is given very little consideration. Today writing for the cinema
is one of the very few ways to do research while still remaining on the
market, but in the industry we are not recognized as authors, we are
not invited to press conferences, sometimes not even to the premieres.
We can do much to change this, we can build a common ground to express
ourselves, to have one voice."
The Relationship with the Director
For a composer of film scores it is certainly difficult to assert its
authorial and artistic role: cinema is a collective art that is only
achieved through choices and compromises between various strong
creative personalities. In Europe, even more than in the US -- where
composers and directors for a specific movie are often both cast by the
studio according to market considerations and both depend from the
producer -- the final saying is the one of the director, who "signs"
the movie with his name. Not all directors are instinctively aware of
the importance of music. Another element that has been evidenced by the
artists is the necessity to have a correct relationship between
composer and director.
"Why did we feel necessary to put it in writing?" points out Bosso.
"Because it must be remembered by all those that do our job today.
Americans distinguish between the "soundtrack," all the sound elements
that are heard in a movie, and the "music score." We create the latter,
and address directly the intimate consciousness of the moviegoer. At
present this has been somewhat forgotten, and many new directors begin
to work with a cultural background in which music has no part. To
mention a recent experience, in a film festival we organized a meeting
with young directors -- and none came! By writing down our beliefs
about ethics and aesthetics, we also want to help those who begin in
our profession, which consists in dedicating ourselves to cinema,
sometimes anonymously. We choose to remain in the background, as Luigi
Pintor said, to 'embrace somebody without suffocating him until we
disappear.'"
"Of course, as musicians, we are at the service of the movie, but this
does not mean that we are just executing what we are told or ordered,"
states Giuliano Taviani, the young composer of the scores for Tutta la conoscenza del mondo and Ora o mai più. "The
relationship with the director must be one between two individuals who
meet, and might fall in love or part their ways: trust is important,
otherwise any relationship can be broken. Both my father and my uncle
are directors, but I am a musician -- it is a different profession.
Although it is a great satisfaction to work in the same places where I
used to go with my father when he was recording the scores for his
movies, with a director I am like any other composer. Luckily, I have
never been in major conflicts -- a lot of contrasts, of course, but
never to the breaking point."
According to Giovanni Venosta, who has written the scores for all
movies made by Silvio Soldini, including the award-winner Pane e tulipani and Agata e la tempesta, "the problem
is that the director, not knowing music, does not trust himself and his
own choices in this matter. Listening to the music he likes and setting
it to a piece of film is one thing; discussing in abstract terms an
idea that might be suitable for his images is quite different. First of
all he should trust himself on the choice of composer, which should not
be simply a friend or the first one who was available, but somebody
that, also on the basis of his previous works, was judged to have the
necessary qualities; and then he should give him the possibility to be
propositive. This seldom happens, also because of production issues, as
often 70% of all the budget for music has already been spent to acquire
the rights to use existing songs and only the remaining 30% is
available for everything else, including the fees of the composer and
of all the performers. It is difficult to have the time and the
possibility to experiment, to work in one direction and then perhaps
abandon it in favor of another. This anxiety undermines his confidenc."
Andrea Guerra, composer of La
finestra di fronte, Le fate
ignoranti, Prendimi l'anima
and quite a few other movies for foreign directors, states: "In the
course of his career a director might make four, five, six movies,
while if we are lucky we can work on 30 or 40 of them, and therefore we
often have more experience. But we still face foolish situations, like
when a director told me "here we will have yellow music" -- it has
happened to me, really -- because he did not have the experience
necessary to explain himself. In these situations, either we understand
what the director means, or we might simply say "okay, we will make it
yellow." But if there is a more collaborative relationship we can try
to interpret, to reason, to understand the why and the how.
Furthermore, I think that at least seven or eight different scores
could be written for each movie, and there should be the possibility to
experiment and make tests, still trying to avoid nonsense."
The Search For Common Ground
It is unfortunately true that the director often does not know the
language necessary to communicate and understand musical choices; and
because of this he finds it much more difficult to trust those who
speak a different language than those of words or images in which he is
fluent himself. But it is necessary to conquer a common ground, and
whenever possible to develop it with time, so that the director will be
willing to give his contributors the freedom to go in the directions
that only they can explore.
According to Lo Cascio, "the less time you have available, the more the
capability, the flexibility, the fantasy of the director in imagining
what I propose are necessary, as I can only play some ideas on a
keyboard, I cannot possibly orchestrate it. He should already be
familiar with some of my work, as I have not started with film music, I
have been playing and recording music for 20 years. Knowing each
other's previous work is of much help when we have a limited time to
make propositions and suggest how to realise them. For Rosa Funzeca, my
wife and I had to prepare 99 tracks before we found 10 which were
accepted by director Aurelio Grimaldi and actress Ida Di Benedetto. In
other situations everything was much smoother -- not everything that we
suggested was accepted but we always trusted each other, as I was
working with directors who had an idea of what I was able to offer, and
before starting I always watch the movies they have already made to
understand their personal vision."
Things are easier when director and composer have built a relationship
over time. "Concerning directors I was rather lucky, we are friends,"
admits Silvestri. "I had already worked in the theatre with Marcello
Cesena, and movies came afterwards when we had already created a
relationship. With other directors the relationship was not as strong,
but it is always extremely important."
"I was probably lucky, too," adds Giagni, "as I worked with a director
like Marco Bellocchio, whose ideas about sound and music are in many
ways very close to mine. The double activity of the creation of
original music and the selection of existing tracks has always been
done together, under the sign of a very strong solidarity. Of course,
there have been all the contradictions, the conflicts and the
discussions that such a collaboration implies, but always within his
powerful vision and his strong aesthetics which demand deeply emotional
music.
Concerning Buongiorno notte, the final sequence of the movie is scored
with a track by Pink Floyd, in a dialogueless finale accompanied only
by the music. This choice was rather difficult for Bellocchio, who did
not know Pink Floyd: his musical culture is quite different, mostly
centered on Verdi, the Italian melodrama, and the Italian political
songs of the '50s and the '60s. This was a departure from his style,
from his usual way of using music. The reasons were borne out of the
story, which represent his personal vision of a fact (the kidnapping
and killing of Italian politician Aldo Moro) that had happened in the
'70s, and therefore at that time; but also -- and this was the key
element for Bellocchio, the one that finally made him decide -- the
necessity to give a strong emotional background to the release of the
prisoner, something that never happened in reality, and that can only
be shown as real in a movie. Together with a strong image -- Moro that
walks at dawn in a deserted Rome, and goes away on his legs -- we
needed a counterpoint, an aural and musical solidarity that had power
and emotion, and I think we achieved it."
Fabio Liberatori, from Rome, a cultured musician master of rarefied
electronic textures, has built a special relationship with a director.
"It was unexpected, but the association with Carlo Verdone has been
continuing for a long time, with just a few interruptions. I could not
say why: it's a very special relationship. I know that we like the same
kind of music, and this director is also something of a musician
himself. Very often his knowledge of the musical genres that we both
like, like avant-garde electronic music, is superior to mine: I have
maybe 2,000 CDs, he has over 5,000. Quite probably, this love he has
for music makes me more willing to listen to him when he insists on
something. I certainly perceive a certain weakness of mine in his
regards from this point of view, but in turn he is often willing to
listen to me on other matters, which is something not all directors do.
I remember a director that on our first meeting told me 'I don't like
music. But we must have it, as all movies must have music.' Maybe
because of this, when one year later I met Verdone again, I almost
hugged him: with him I can talk about Depeche Mode or Stravinsky, and I
feel that we are doing something together."
Liberatori also has at heart the importance for a composer to be able
to take advantage of his personal research, musical and aesthetic, when
writing a film score. "It seems obvious: each movie is different, has a
different screenplay and director, and therefore should also allow for
an original approach to music. On the contrary, there is a desease that
afflicts our profession: we do not have room to experiment, research
and then express our own inner personality, which is the aim of every
artist. The same right of the director not to have too many expressive
constraints put on his work should also be recognized to us when we
write the music. This seldom happens, not only for productive or
economical reasons, but also for a cultural inability by many
professionals to see in our composers the same creative capability of
those from the other side of the ocean. They are always looking at
external references, asking for a déjà-vu, or
déjà-ecouté in this case, that could be useful as
a first indication, but should not force us to impoverish our musical
and artistic research."
"I am asked why I often use ethnic music," says Paolo Buonvino,
composer of the scores for Il giovane
Casanova by Giacomo Battiato and L'ultimo bacio and Ricordati di me by Gabriele
Muccino. "I was born and lived most of my life in Sicily, which is
close to the Arab world. Listen to the call of the vegetables seller in
the streets of Sicily, he sounds like a muezzin -- with a different
text, but he's identical. For my first score, La piovra 8, I wanted a stylized
Sicilian song, and I used a Palestinian singer. Many elders from my
region told me 'it's the same, it's perfect,' although he was singing
in his language. It comes to me naturally, I do not need any effort to
use ethnic sounds, as they are from my home, and I think that they
often work on a higher emotional level, bypassing conventions of form,
and reaching directly your guts. They are not bound by the rules of
so-called classical music -- although that is also born from emotions,
it is always constrained by these rules, sometimes unconsciously. When
studying music composition, one of the first things to do is to try to
forget what has been learned, otherwise one will be unable to do
anything new; but some schemes remain. I believe that through the
spontaneity of ethnic music we can get closer to sentiments and to the
heart, and music is this more than anything else."
"I think my experience must be almost a miracle," says Ivan Iusco, who
wrote the scores for Mio cognato
and LaCapaGira by Alessandro
Piva and L'amore ritorna by
Sergio Rubini. "I was lucky because I worked with two directors, Piva
and Rubini, who left me total freedom to approach their work as I
wanted. I understand that it must not have been easy, not only because
of what my colleagues have said, but because of the nature of the
relationship between director and composer. In all these cases I
proposed a starting point, which was fully accepted, and on that we
built together a musical discourse. Maybe I was really lucky -- but so
far my artistic identity has been respected; maybe in the future I will
find myself working with directors that who want to impose their ideas."
"Yes, he was lucky indeed," confirms Venosta. "When the composer is
called to write the score, he is often presented a movie which has been
temped with other tracks by other composers, and asked to imitate their
sound -- and this is a big problem for us, but I think we could turn it
to our advantage. I also have a special relationship with one director,
as I worked on all movies by Soldini. When he started his career he was
also incapable of talking about music, now he is not a specialist but
through our work together he can ask me something musical by referring
to existing works without setting them to the images. He can tell me 'I
listened to Janacek's quartets, I'd like to have something that gives
similar sensations, not the same music, possibly a more urban sound…'
By using existing works as a common reference on which to start the
discussion, on which to imagine new music, the composer can preserve
his own identity; when he is simply asked to imitate existing tracks,
often produced with more resources than he as at his disposal, then
there is no respect for artistic identity."
"There are no rules, each experience has its own life," concludes
Pivio. "We all have been in situations of conflict, and each time there
was a different outcome. Each of us has different personal, musical and
temperamental characteristics, and will try to find a solution in a
different way. Some of us will try to concede and find a reasonable
compromise, others will not bend and continue their way. These
reactions are both justifiable, I cannot say which is best. We must
make sure that our counterparts understand our poetic universe and we
must find a point of contact. As this is sometimes impossible, and as
in cinema there are no marriages but only engagements, some engagements
will be broken; it has also happened to us, not just because of
artistic differences but also because of a difficult personal
relationship. The main thing is to always maintain one's artistic
dignity."
Stay Tuned for Part Two!
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