Articles by admin

Living on the Edge by Giant Ginkgo

If you are suddenly charged with landing a plane after the pilot collapses, and you are talked through the process by air traffic control, I’ll bet those fast-learned skills will be permanently burned into your psyche.  Not to mention, a successful landing would give you a tremendous confidence.  Well, alright, maybe you’d have to throw out your pants and never fly again.  (Boy, extreme metaphors can get you into trouble!)  At any rate, this would be an example of learning on ‘the Edge’, where you learn by doing, jumping in, getting your feet (and probably most of your body) wet.

Step a little closer… closer…

‘The Edge’ is a situation where you barely know enough to make it by.  It’s where you are trying to keep up and learn from those vastly better, faster, smarter, and more advanced than you.  The Edge is jumping in the deep end of the pool, sink or swim.  These can be situations find yourself in, but even better, situations you cultivate and covet.

In some ways, you are requiring yourself to move faster than thought.  You don’t have time for self-doubt – roadblocks and restrictions have to be lifted by necessity, and sometimes, you just have to drive right through them.  You take chances without over-thinking outcomes – there is no choice, and you ignore fears which might hold you back because fear is not a luxury you can entertain.  Your brain can operate in some surprising ways when forced to, where no other option exists.

Okay, brain. You don’t like me, and I don’t like you, but let’s get through this thing and …

I have a story of my own that illustrates this idea.  I’m a guitar player, and as the cliche goes, a horrible sight reader (I’m in a 12 step program).  I was invited, last minute, to sit in on a recording session where the bass player was suddenly unavailable.  I figured they knew me and my shortcomings (and this was on bass, not my main instrument!) and I thought it would be a session with simple charts and improvisation – no problem.  The “charts” turned out to be quick grand-staff print off’s from a sequencer, and required me to sight-read in the bass clef (WHAT?).   I was surrounded by some incredible musicians, true veteran session players – it was a nightmare situation!   Because it was on a tight deadline for a TV show, there was no time to ‘figure it out’…  it just had to get done, now!  I tried to stay calm, but I felt like a dump truck had parked on my chest.  At some point, I realized I was either going to play, or run out of the studio screaming, wreck any reputation I had, and forget a career in music.  The choice was not really a choice after all – I grimly focused on the sheet music sitting on the stand before me and accepted my fate.  It was pretty embarrassing, but something quite remarkable happened after a few cues – I just ’started’ reading in the bass clef.  It was as if by accepting and letting go, my brain said ‘Ok, let’s just learn this bloody fast then!’.  It was by no means a heroic turn, but once I was able to think back on the event without cringing so hard I’d hurt myself, I marveled at this sudden ‘ability’.

I’m sure we’ve all been in situations where we were on the Edge.  We committed to doing something that we perhaps weren’t quite ready for, where you had to learn on your feet, where you got by just by the skin of your teeth.

And now for a contradiction…

Sometimes, you want to avoid the Edge.  There are times when you have to perform perfectly, and where a mistep could result in disaster.  However, the one thing the Edge makes you prepare for is – anything.  You get good at being agile, flexible, adaptable.  Thinking creatively on your feet, making hard decisions fast.  It also makes you build and maintain your ‘lifelines’ – those you can call on when you know you are up against the wall and you need saving.

This is perhaps the best lesson you can get from the Edge – that you need to prepare for the Moment.  If you arrive somewhere and your big chance arrives unexpectedly, and you aren’t ready, that might be the last chance you get.  Imagine yourself at the place you want to be, and that place being the Edge – will you survive?  Succeed?

The Spotting/Cue Sheet in progress...

Being organized is glamorous and sexy!

… well, maybe if you wear a sequined dress while filing (remember to shave your pits if it’s strapless, gentlemen)…

The spotting session is one of the first things a director and/or producer will do with the composer on a project. During this session, which usually lasts 3 – 8 hours, you watch a fine cut of the film. Scene by scene, frame by frame, the filmmaker will talk about what they want in terms of music – the style, genre, mood, emotion, dynamic, and importantly the function of the music in a scene. The composer takes detailed notes, usually saying quite little, unless asked for input.

Whadda I do with this chicken scratch??

Something I learned while apprenticing was the value of creating a Spotting Notes/Cue Sheet document. This document is the distillation of your notes and lays out the detail of every cue: for each act, for each reel. It contains all the ‘vitals’ including timecode IN and OUT points, length of the cue, format and output notes, and notes on what the director wanted, as well as your ideas. When you are finished, it is your Holy Bible for your score on this project; at any point, you will know EXACTLY where you are at, and what you need to do. You’ll even know, pretty much exactly, how much music you need to write.

Spotting notes should be transcribed as soon as possible, while still fresh in the mind. If left too long, there may be trouble interpreting ones own notes, and one doesn’t want to appear flakey by calling and asking what the director wanted over the speedboat chase with the explosions again? Solo oboe?

Here are some things you’ll find on this type of Spotting/Cue sheet:

Cue Number – more details on this in a moment

Cue Name – something that will bring to mind what is happening and what the cue is for. Some composers are famous for their hilarious cue names.

IN and OUT points – when you review the film, make sure you tighten up your IN points to the frame!

Time - the total length of the cue

Notes – what the director said… what you thought of – your brilliant musical ideas. The scene – what’s happening? Function – what is the music supposed to do – from the mundane to sublime.

Other things – A/B reel indications, Stereo/5.1 etc., and Type – source, library, location, song, etc.

When you are in the heat of creating music under a deadline, this little bit of non-creative housekeeping can save you time and mental strain. You can forget about keeping any data on how a cue relates to something two acts down the road, because you already made detailed notes on this. You know that you have finished 12 cues and 23 and 1/2 minutes of music, and have 7 cues and 16 minutes of music left to write. You made a note that cue 2m06 will be mirrored in 3m01, so you should write that now which shouldn’t take long since it’s just a slight variation. The cue sheet is key to freeing your mind to do the creative work of writing music, while making you efficient and organized. I personally believe it will make your score better, because you’ll have laid out the framework of the WHOLE score, and can see it from a distance. This helps you keep track of how the score fits together as one musical thing, as opposed to a procession of unrelated cues written without a solid plan which was thought out in advance.

Do you use something like this when you work?   Any other time-saving, insanity-offsetting practices you employ?

Photo by Craig Elliott

Don’t be ashamed of your own ideas. Most musicians get applauded for sounding like someone else. People try something out that they think is exciting, and everyone looks a little unsure. Then they play an old James Brown riff and everyone’s saying: ‘Wow! That’s what we want!’ Most of the time musicians are being encouraged to sound recognizable. What I’m doing [as a producer] is encouraging them at the points when they’re not.
- Brian Eno

Who Are You?

An aspect of being an artist is the path to finding your voice. Your ‘voice’ is your signature, your ‘thing’, that which you get known for, something to which you become associated. Sometimes, even, it’s a schtick. If you think of any successful artist, someone who stood the test of time, you’ll note one particular trait – they had a unique voice. They did something no-one else did, or they did something far better than anyone else. This is something you want to cultivate, for a number of reasons.

Karma Chameleon

Composers working for media have a special challenge in this area. Generally, you are expected to be aware of, and be able to compose in, any style imaginable – NOW. I’ve scored an episodic show where I went from comic opera to Joe Pass jazz, then to purposely cheesy PSA music to porn, 50’s bubblegum pop, to copping Prokofiev ballet, then to afro-cuban, and even more. To have these styles in your arsenal, and to be able to say ‘yes’ when asked to genre-hop, is a necessary skill especially when you are getting established.

It’s your thing – do what you want to do

Being versed in many styles is great for your musicianship and breadth. However, this is not your ‘voice’. It’s unlikely you’ll get very far specializing in ALL styles – it’s a bit of a contradiction in terms! What you want is for people to think of you as the person who is the go-to for “X” , but also a capable and professional expert who is also able to adapt and stretch to meet any demand.

You need to differentiate yourself from all those people who are doing the stuff everyone else is doing!

Right now, there are thousands of emerging composers out there, who are trying to emulate the heroes du jour – John Williams, John Powell, Danny Elfman, and Hans Zimmer, to name a few. Some argue that if a producer or director want John Williams, they’ll call him. WELL… yes, and no. No, if they don’t have 1/2 a million in their budget for John’s fee. So yes, the guys who can do ‘that sound’ will get calls.

However, there are two problems with this scenario:

1. The only way to compete in this area is to be THE BEST at it.

2. This is a limiting way to build a career. You might become known as the person who can do Zimmer, and when that goes out of vogue, or worse, when someone wants something original, you could lose.

It’s a short term career move.

Don’t imitate it, don’t abandon it – FILTER IT

This will happen naturally anyways – but try to cultivate your sound when you work. Create a mental environment condusive to this – this means that you have to stop judging your work when it really starts to SOUND LIKE YOU, and instead, recognize it as a good thing and push forward in those crazy directions! You have to develop an awareness of what you do that makes you unique. It doesn’t have to be the most insane thing ever, either – it can be simple. My thing is the guitar – I want to create scores using the guitar in unusual ways. Even if no guitar sounds appear in the final recording, I will use the guitar to compose – and THAT will end up helping to give the score it’s signature – because it’ll be different had I done it another way. I ‘own’ the guitar as a tool, it is part of me and my process.

Do Something Different

Be a little more daring. Try something you think might not work. Pick up a new instrument. I’m getting into instruments from around the world – the Bansuri is my current favorite. This year I plan to learn how to play violin, and eventually I’m going to get a Guzheng. Getting into a different way of playing can really open some doors to different ways of working, new ideas, and a unique path. Study a different style of music, study different composers. Open up – and filter what you learn. Don’t get too bogged down in details – it’s not an academic excercise. Even if you can’t play well, you will come up with some ideas that are unlike what you’d normally develop. Learn fast and take what you learn and make it your own. Each instrument seems to naturally lend itself to doing different things, which is why sometimes you can break out of a rut by composing on an instrument different than what you usually use.

The Devil is in the Sampler

One of the weird things about being a composer these days is watching a film or TV show, and hearing a sample you recognize. I KNOW that one “Thunder Ensemble” hit with the singing bowl ringing overtone from StormDrum2. I even know what velocity level it was triggered at. It’s a damn good sample, too. That’s a little disconcerting when I’m using it for another project – makes it feel a little… cheap. Like cheating. Now, I’m not against samplers, libraries, sounds, and effects, etc. But it’s worthwhile to invest some time into how you can differentiate, even in this area. How your sound, is… well, your SOUND – like a guitar player has their particular sound. Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jimie Hendrix, Al Di Meola – these guys play different and they also SOUND different – it’s the TONE. Experiment with your samples. Tweak them. Use them “incorrectly” – play instruments out of their compass or pitch range. Use effects.

A Balancing Act

The one caveat in all of this, of course, is that it is important to stay current. Like the ability to compose in any style, you will be asked to sound en vogue. But it is possible to balance this with a striving to be unique, different… memorable. One of a kind. A Go-To.

All things under the Sun

This kind of thinking naturally extends to your whole music business, aka your BRAND. How you present yourself – visually, personally, the myth or legend, or story you create about yourself. This all gives a context to the music and how it is perceived, and can add to your value as a composer. It’s how well you can sell yourself and your ideas, the kind of music you produce. If you build yourself to be a special kind of composer, then people will see you that way and will look to you to deliver your specialty. I will be looking at the idea of ‘myth building’ in a later blog.

Speakeasy

How do you differentiate? Do you have some great examples of artists making it work for them? (one of my favorites is Carter Burwell). How do you strike a balance between doing it all V.S. doing one thing?

Photo by Roger Do Minh used under CC liscence

In a recent article, I detailed the journey I took with a director, crafting a cue through several versions to arrive at the final product which worked with the scene just the right way. More than knowledge of music, talent, or ability on an instrument, very important is your ability to effectively communicate with the director, and your ability to analyze, understand, and translate their vision and story into musical ideas which work to picture.

Don’t even say ‘crescendo’!

You should be able to do this without speaking one word of musical jargon.

The language of film music is primarily the language of emotion, and when speaking about how the music can/should work in a scene, you want to use these terms as descriptors – laymans terms, non-academic speak. Words like afraid, stubborn, furious, joyful, mysterious, distant, dark, hopeful, etc. Words that describe the film, the themes, actions, characters… not the music.

This isn’t a dumbing down of musical concepts for someone with no knowledge of music – the director may well be versed in music, even to a high degree. The point is that you are there to serve the vision of the director, and the director is telling a STORY. You have to set up a framework for talking about the story, and I have found it makes it easier, more efficient and consistent, and pleases directors, if you speak in their language – the language of emotion, character, themes, and story. It’s your job (and happy challenge) as a composer to turn those ideas into music.

“He really GETS me, you know?”

The other aspect to this complex relationship is trust. If you can watch the film, read the script, and accurately analyze it with an attention to detail and passion that shows you really GET the film and care about the project, you will be on your way to earning the trust of the director. Try to see it from their point of view – it’s their baby – they love the characters, they believe in the story, the message, the themes. They know the work inside out. If you demonstrate a sophisticated understanding of the themes, make connections between a characters actions and what that means to scene 237, if you see how a camera angle or a prop has a deeper meaning that connects the film together, they will be more apt to trust your musical instincts and ideas.

Sorry, what was that again? I said, learn to be a GREAT listener

I try to get directors to talk about the film, their motives for making it, what they love about it, and the characters, themes, and story, before anything else. I want to discuss and analyse their film, to make sure I really understand their vision. Only after this, once I have established some basic trust and rapport, do I say, ok, let’s talk about the music. What did YOU have in mind? What my ideas are, what I want to have happen, this comes pretty much dead last. Again, this is a part of the business that you have to be ok with – I love the collaborative process, and I love having parameters, a framework within which to work. I absolutely ADORE analyzing films and literature. And, I almost always find a way to satisfy my own artistic desires within this process. But don’t forget, you are there to serve someone elses vision – it’s not a servile position – you are an expert, but your own desires take a back seat.

Literally speaking…

Knowing the story, the themes, the characters and their motivations inside out can be a great help to actually writing the score, especially in terms of overall structure. Shorter forms are easy to deal with, but the score to a feature film can be likened to a symphony, where as much as 60 minutes of music and more might be required. How do you ensure a consistent, balanced, and thematically connected work emerges? One thing I like to do is look at what is happening in the film and apply it quite literally to musical ideas. There is a micro and macro aspect to this – scene by scene, in moments, and also in terms of the story as a whole, the arc. Once you have written a theme for a character, for instance, it may be that the character becomes more broken, alienated, hollow as the film progresses. Think of the musical theme – can you write a variation that will sound this way? Can you ‘break’ the theme, and alienate it from it’s harmony? Can you orchestrate something which sound hollow? Of course! Now you have a simple framework for creating something quite quickly, which will give the audience a subliminal insight, a deeper emotional understanding. This particular example might not work in all cases – sometimes, you play counter to the action or theme, so a different tack might be needed. But consider it – work out some descriptors for characters, themes, storylines, and see if you can’t find a sophisticated way to incorporate those.

Capisce?

When you return with your first cues in hand, you can impress a director and solidify their trust by actively demonstrating that you’ve been listening, that you understand what they are doing – especially if you talk in their language. It’s the same as when you visit a foreign country – the people that are native will be very impressed and happy when you demonstrate a knowledge of their language and customs – it’s simple – it shows respect and a desire to communicate.

Do you have some interesting ways of working with directors? Do you use the story in interesting ways?