It
is an interesting thought that this music, if not exactly
symphonic but speaking a late romantic language and performed
by symphonic forces, from the 1930s to the 1950s, was heard
by millions of movie-goers. How many of them ever came
into contact with ‘real’ symphonic music; still less consider
going to a symphony concert. Even so, the films and the
music were appreciated, and today composers like John Williams
write film music in a largely symphonic idiom, get awards
for it and sell records aplenty. It has also become increasingly
common to borrow classical compositions for the soundtracks.
All this means that more people than ever are exposed to
the sound of a symphony orchestra. So why the decline of
sales for classical music and receding figures for concert-going?
Are
we – at least the generations younger than me and most
of my reviewing colleagues – so visualised that
we need pictures to appreciate the sounds? Pop concerts – reportedly – involve
smoke machines and laser projections. I have heard more
than one youngster saying: ‘I’m going to see a concert
tomorrow.’ A couple of years ago I saw a concert
performance of Wagner’s Das Rheingold at the Stockholm
Concert Hall in a production that was enhanced by visual
effects, projections, texts, colours … you name it. The
singers made their exits and entrances as they should in
a staged performance and even though some of them needed
vocal scores this was a world apart from the traditional ‘straight’ concert
version. Reviewers waxed lyrical. The audience were ecstatic – and
these were more or less ‘traditional’ concert-goers, versed
in concert traditions. Clearly, the visual element has
an impact. It probably won’t reverse the figures drastically
for the concert halls if they install smoke machines, but
maybe something along those lines.
Why
this preamble? Because knowing the answers, as accounted
for above, it must seem absurd to revive 50 to 70 year
old film music from movies very few modern listeners -
excuse me - viewers, have ever seen, in modern sound-only
recordings. But in an absurd world this works, at least
for me – and presumably for a lot of others since they
continue to sell. Never being a very avid movie-goer I
have listened to a lot of movie-music without greatly
missing the pictures. It all started in the 1970s when
RCA launched their series of re-recordings of classic Hollywood
scores. These were in state-of-the-art sound and with the
superlative National Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by
Charles Gerhardt. Herrmann, Waxman, Rózsa and Korngold
became household names and I soon realised that all of
them had ‘serious’ careers as well. It was comme-il-faut in
some camps to frown upon this music – sentimental and vulgar – and
considering the last-named he was regarded as ‘more korn
than gold’. However times change and it wasn’t long before
a Korngold revival was on its way. Die tote Stadt appeared
on disc, also on RCA, a new recording of the violin
concerto - in which he recycled several of his film themes
- the string quartets and then a steady stream of orchestral
music (on Chandos and CPO). Then came the rest of the operas.
Today Korngold is firmly established, the gold having got
the upper hand over the korn.
I
focus on Korngold since he gets star billing on the cover
of this issue, even though the music from Captain Blood is
only marginally longer than the Young and Steiner suites,
and this is music with a tingle factor! The Main Title was
on one of those RCA records. This film was Korngold’s real
break-through and established him as one of the top contenders – many
regard him as without peer. For inventiveness, melodic
and harmonic richness and a symphonic approach he is hard
to beat. Here I return momentarily to the fact that through
Korngold millions of non-classically oriented viewers got
a healthy dose of symphonic music. What makes his music
so congenial is its graphic quality. It is illustrative
to the point when you hardly need the pictures, and that
is also one reason why it is so listenable disengaged from
the movie. One can hear this on track 12 of this disc.
Elsewhere he creates – or rather underlines – the mood
of a scene; listen to the chilling beginning of the Port
Royal scene (track 14). Of course a full appreciation
of Korngold’s idiom also requires a listener with a sweet
tooth. When he lets loose his most seductive string tunes
(also track 12) you may feel that he is over-sugaring the
pudding. Then, when you have reached a near-diabetic stage,
he adds some bold harmonic seasoning to neutralise the
sweets and, who can resist his melodies? Add to this the
rich orchestral texture where Wagner, Strauss, Mahler and
Puccini were his masters. There is also a small (only 1:45)
but exquisite pearl, Tortuga (track 13), a slow
Boston Waltz with rubatos that even Franz Lehár would have
envied. He wrote an enormous amount of music for this film
in only three weeks but a tight time-schedule forced him
to borrow a few minutes from a symphonic poem by Liszt
for a battle scene. This caused him to demand that the
credits read ‘Musical Arrangements by Erich Wolfgang Korngold”.
Modesty indeed!
I
will be more brief about the rest of the disc although
I hasten to add that I enjoyed these three scores, too.
Rózsa’s The King’s Thief includes some whistling
and the music has, appropriately enough, a true 17th century
feeling, even though the instrumentation is of later vintage.
And Rózsa was of course one of the greatest, with around
ninety film scores to his credit and being at his very
best in some historical epics like Ben Hur and Quo
Vadis.
Victor
Young, best known for his score for Around the World
in Eighty Days wrote a really catchy main title for Scaramouche,
whereas the second scene, Vanished Merchant (track
3) has a certain thematic likeness to Around the World although
composed three years earlier. I must admit that while being
wholeheartedly in love with Korngold’s ‘sugar music’ the
corresponding side of Young is harder to take, mainly because
his sentimentality is not redeemed by Korngold’s brave
harmonies, but he writes fine melodies and the End Cast (track
10) is accompanied by a lilting waltz.
Max
Steiner was Korngold’s senior by nine years and started
writing for Hollywood several years before Korngold arrived
from Europe, reaping success in King Kong (1932).
He also won an Oscar for The Informer the same year
that he wrote the music for The Three Musketeers (1935),
a film which has not gone down in the annals as a masterpiece,
but was probably partly redeemed by the music. This is
a score that bristles with energy and zest (tracks 17,
19, 21), but he could also write a tear-jerking love theme
(track 18) and what I suppose is the Pigeons’ Theme on
track 20, is distantly reminiscent of Whistle While
You Work from Snow White.
The
whole disc was a good listen, with an extra plus for Korngold.
The orchestra, only two years after its foundation, acquit
themselves well. They may not have the refinement of the
National Philharmonic but in the excellent Jesus Christ
Church in Berlin (Dahlem) – a famous recording venue for,
among others, the Berlin Philharmonic before the days of
the Philharmonie – they produce a mighty sound, comparable
to the Kingsway Hall, where the RCA recordings were made.
Tony Thomas writes a well-informed note in the inlay, but
I would have liked some more explicit clues to what happens
in the different scenes. There is also a note on reconstruction
by John Morgan, responsible for the Korngold and Steiner
excerpts. He regrets that the original scores do not exist
any more and that the reconstructions had to be made from
original piano reductions, warts and all, and through listening
to the sound tracks; a painstaking job that we have reason
to be extremely grateful for.
Provided
you have at least the remnants of a sweet tooth and don’t
mind unabashed wallowing in lush late-romantic orchestral
sounds, this can definitely be a disc for you. I won’t
be separated easily from my copy.
Göran Forsling
see also review by Steve Arloff
BUY NOW
Brandenburg
Philharmonic Orchestra/Richard Kaufman 
