Blog Post

A Conversation with William Rosar

Randall D. Larson

The Society for the Preservation of Film Music - Fred Steiner (left) and William Rosar
Originally published in Soundtrack Magazine Vol.11 / No.43 / 1992
Text reproduced by kind permission of the editor, Luc Van de Ven

Would you relate what led to the formation of the Society for the Preservation of Film Music?

Around 1970 some of the film composers, notably Fred Steiner, caught wind of the alarming fact that the movie studios had been discarding their music. In particular, news had gotten out that MGM had thrown away most of their music during a studio “house cleaning” which took place in 1969, or thereabouts. The order came down from the front office that all the departments at the studio were to clear out all material up to 1964 (supposedly for economic reasons), which they did. Harold Gelman, who was then assistant music librarian at MGM, told me that he almost lost his job trying to stop the music from being thrown out and the terrible loss that this would mean. Subsequently this tragedy came to light when Maurice Jarre called Metro to get the performance materials for his music from DR. ZHIVAGO, because he had received a request to perform it in concert, only to be told that it no longer existed. You can imagine how shocked he must have been to hear this! So word of this got around among his colleagues and caused quite an uproar among them. I believe this event was one of the principal causes for the anti-trust suit which the composers filed against the studios some years ago, in an attempt to gain more control over their own music. When people such as myself, who were involved in film music research, learned that this had happened we were also really dismayed because here was our source material being discarded!

Anyway, I met Fred Steiner in 1975 in connection with my research, and I can remember an evening back in 1977 when he called a number of us to his home in Encino, with the idea of forming an organization to save film music from destruction. As you can read in the history of the Society which has appeared in each issue of The Cue Sheet for some time now, you'll know who was there besides Fred and myself: David Raksin, George Korngold, Jon Newsom, Jay Alan Quantrill, Jon Hall, Rudy Behlmer, and Clifford McCarty. The meeting didn't result in any definite plan as I remember, other than to try to encourage the studios not to throw anything away, and if they were going to throw something away, or if they thought that disposal was imminent, to please let us know and we would find a home for it. There was discussion about designing a fancy letterhead and getting a lot of “window dressing” - important names - on it, and I remember David Raksin thought that maybe he could get Saul Bass to design a fancy logo for us. And that’s as far as it got, in 1977. In any case, the credit for the idea of the Society really belongs to Fred Steiner alone. As the years passed, nothing happened, because no one, for whatever reasons, took the initiative to form the Society as had been planned. By 1983 I was working for Miles Krueger at the Institute of the American Musical in Los Angeles and I was very, very impressed by what he had done to preserve the historical heritage of musical theater, and I thought that this really was what we needed for film music. I can remember Miles saying to me, “You need a non-profit organization,” repeating advice once given to him before he created the Institute. Miles, Fred, and I even talked at one point about expanding the Institute to include film music, in as much as the Institute's collection already included a lot of material on film musicals. Wisely, we agreed that this would mean the Institute taking on too much, and abandoned that idea. But because of my experience with Miles Krueger, who was a real inspiration, I went ahead and founded the Society for the Preservation of Film Music in 1983.

Now, the object of this was, I think, to take a fairly aggressive initiative to prevent - in some way - more film music from being destroyed and perhaps also increase access to it and related documents. I originally envisioned it along the lines of the National Geographic Society, with a magazine like National Geographic that would be the mouthpiece of the organization to the general public, especially to the soundtrack collector. For an annual fee, one could join the Society and would receive the magazine.

How did the group actually form? How were some of the Advisory Board people and the film music composers brought in?

The nucleus of the Society was a group of friends with a common interest - or, perhaps I should say, a common passion - namely, film music. This was now 1983; six years had elapsed since Fred Steiner had talked about forming a Society and nothing had happened, and so I had some time on my hands and I said: LET'S DO IT! And I started writing letters and calling up people and telling them about the Society, and really what finally transpired is that I sold Henry Adams, a soundtrack collector friend of mine, to put up seed money to pay for a consultant, Christopher Dirks, an M.B.A. from U.C.L.A. with a background in arts administration, who had also worked for Miles Krueger, to assist me in filing as a non-profit educational corporation in California, and formulating a mission statement, a charter, constitution, by-laws and so forth. I brought these people together and I remember the first meeting we had was at the home of Linda Mehr, head of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences library, and I think you were there.

What were the group's primary goals at the time of its incorporation, and how have they been changed or modified over the years?
I think that we had this idea that we wanted to preserve film music, we wanted to save it from destruction, but of course the $64,000 Question was: HOW? How can we do that? I mean, here this material is the property of the movie companies, who were we to tell them what to do with it? As they themselves have often enough said, it's their's to do with what they want, because it belongs to them - they paid for it. I can only give you one anecdote off the top of my head about how it finally worked out - one of our “success stories,” if you will - and that's when we got a call from CBS one day, from Robert Drasnin, head of music there, telling us that they had a lot of old music in the attic above one of the scoring stages on their Studio City lot, and the Fire Department had told them that they better clear it out because it was a fire hazard. Well it turned out that the CBS/MGM lot in Studio City was originally Republic Studios, and there was a lot of old Republic music that had been left behind, and had been sitting there all these years. So, heroically, we came in, boxed up the music, and off it went to Brigham Young University where, as it happened, most of the Republic music had ended up from a previous donation. This is the kind of idealistic scenario that we had envisioned.


Also, I think we wanted to, generally, increase the consciousness of the American public, sort of “film music appreciation” through publications. We wanted to put out not only a newsletter but a journal and an encyclopaedia, and of course, you know about Film Music 1 [Clifford McCarty, Editor, New York: Garland, 1989]. We wanted to encourage serious research in film music history and scholarship and so on, as part of this, with hopes of elevating the status of this music somewhat in the eyes of the music world and academia, try to get more serious interest in it. Naturally, we also thought a lot about possibly issuing recordings because that's what most of the fans were interested in, but as you well know, all this music is so tied up in legal and contractual red tape.

How have the Society's goals changed or been developed over the years?
I don't think the goals changed; rather, the priorities changed. The one thing that we did consistently was to publish the newsletter, The Cue Sheet, which gradually grew into a journal - at least in name, if not in content. It was originally supposed to be a newsletter to report what was going on in the Society and in the world of film music preservation, and we tried to spice it up with some articles, some of them topical, some of them historical. But, again, what does that have to do with film music preservation? I think that, in a way, we feel like we've been putting out fires. A few years ago we got a call from Hugo Friedhofer's widow, and she had come across a whole raft of old acetate recordings in her closet. For an entirely different reason, she had wanted Cliff McCarty, who is in the book business, to make an appraisal of a number of books that she had gotten rid of from Hugo's estate, and she just happened to mention these records and wondered if anyone would want to buy them, and I said to her, “Well, you probably don't want to sell them, but I'd encourage you to donate them to Brigham Young University,” where Friedhofer's music is housed. And she was quite happy to do that, and of course B.Y.U. wanted to be able to play these things. They were for the most part great big platters, requiring a special stylus and a big turntable to play them. So we had a specialist, Chris Lembesis, who was at that time very involved with SPERDVAC - the Society for the Preservation & Encouragement of Radio Drama, Variety and Comedy. Anyway, he was a specialist in transferring acetates, and B.Y.U. commissioned us to transfer the entire collection of disks to tape, which we did, cleaning them up with noise reduction, and it sounded great. So that's another project. We did the same with Herbert Stothart’s personal collection of acetates for his family.


So it's really just been on a case-by-case basis, until recently, when I finally had a brainstorm. I thought to myself, the movie companies have made a lot of money on this music. Why not encourage them to pay to preserve it? After all, it's their property! And that was my strategy with Disney, and they seemed quite receptive to it - the idea, one, of preserving it, paying to preserve it by microfilming their paper music - we didn’t talk about plans for the recorded stuff - and two, donating it to a university library for safekeeping, and then paying to catalog it, so that they would have a catalog of the material should they have any need to access any of it.


What's the current status of the group and has it continued along the lines that it was initially envisioned?
There have been some very strong disagreements on the Board of Trustees about priorities, not only about the work of the Society but how to run it, its modus operandi. While I was President, my time was gradually being eaten up more and more, so that it was practically taking over my whole life (my wife divorced me), and as organizations do, the Society was growing and really needed the attention of a qualified staff person, somebody to handle it on a daily basis, because it was impacting my ability to make a living. As things worked out, I ended up stepping down as President after six years when the Board decided to create a paid staff position for me as Executive Director, and I was succeeded as president by Herschel Burke Gilbert, a retired film and TV composer, who is best known for his theme for the TV show,
Rifleman. Initially everything seemed hunky-dory until Herschel and I started butting heads. He had his own ideas of how things should be done. Thinking of the Society as one might think of a business, he thought the highest priority was to amass capital first, and then pay people to do the work of the Society. He seemed to think that my job was to do nothing but raise money, though I had not agreed to any such terms. Things don't work like a business in the non-profit world, where it is just the reverse of the business world: you raise money to do work, not do work to raise money, as in the for-profit sector. His instincts were therefore, in my opinion, all wrong for the Society, and are responsible for a great deal of senseless argumentation which all but destroyed the Society. I told him that my job was, first and foremost, to get the work done, to make headway on our projects. So when I didn't raise a whole bunch of money, he ex officio pulled the proverbial rug out from under me by making it appear to the Board that I hadn't been doing my job properly. That heralded the beginning of a long, bitter feud between those who saw things Herschel's way, and those who saw them my way. This in-fighting must have gone on for a year and a half, during which time really nothing was accomplished. Very little transpired other than publishing The Cue Sheet.


I'd like to talk a little about the achievement awards. How did those begin?
We thought it would be nice to honor the composers whose music was the “raison d’être” for the Society. It was never intended to be a “career achievement” award, like AFI's award, or others. I don't know how it came to be called “career achievement award” - personally, I've always thought that was a rather pretentious, pompous name for it. In any event, we wanted to honor the composers and their work. The first honoree was Miklós Rózsa because Leslie Zador, the former Secretary of the Society, was very fond of his music. Zador's father, Eugene Zador, orchestrated most of Rósa's scores. This then became an annual affair, and the dinners got bigger and fancier. Then a few years ago we thought these things were getting so big and expensive, why not turn it into a fund raiser for the society? So that's what we did, the first time with George Duning Award Dinner. We priced the tickets up and we made a little money - I don't remember how much off hand. And each one was progressively more successful after that. The Elmer Bernstein Award Dinner I think must have earned us about $20,000, though the Ernest Gold Dinner actually was a little less successful, and I think this year, the John Williams Award Dinner brought in $30,000 or more. But I don’t think that we were ever trying to compete with the likes of the American Society of Music Arrangers or the American Film Institute, and that's why I always felt we should avoid pretention - but of course in Hollywood that's very difficult, because people seem to expect it!


What can you tell me about the Union Catalog of Film Music, one of the major projects of your tenure?

Let me explain first what a union catalog is, for starters. Probably the most well-known union catalog is the National Union Catalog, a library catalog compiled by the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. Now, first of all, what I mean by catalog is what you use at the library, like a card catalog, to find material. A Union Catalog is different, in that it lists all these items and tells you what libraries across the United States have them. So if I were to look up, say, your book, Musique Fantastique, I would find a listing under that title of, a cross section - basically a survey - of the libraries across the countries which have that book. So, as you also know, there are a number of repositories across the country where the studios have donated film music material, composers have donated them - I mentioned Brigham Young University already earlier, the University of Wyoming, Library of Congress has a lot of stuff. So, Fred Steiner had the idea to create a central data base that you could look up any film title and find out where the music was, whether it was in a University library or whether it was in a studio library, because we intended to catalog the contents of the studio music libraries. So, basically, this would be an invaluable reference tool, a research tool, for anybody doing research on a given score, and we intended to include - along with just listing the music - any documents that were filed, correspondence and so on.

Now, what happened, ultimately, with the executive director position was that the job was given to somebody else, a woman named Jeannie Pool, who has been very active in the women-in-music movement. She has a lot of experience as a fund-raiser - which was what Herschel and his supporters wanted most - a lot of experience with music promotion, but unfortunately, she's “not into film music,” to quote something she said to me when I initially invited her to join the Board of Trustees. She certainly didn't feel competent to continue the work on the Union Catalog, and, since it was a paid job, the Union Catalog basically came to a standstill in 1990. Now I have to add that the preparation for a union catalog is enormous. Library cataloging on the whole, which the lay person probably has no understanding of at all, is a specialized, technical skill. People go to library science school for, among other things, to learn how to do library cataloging. So, the groundwork required to create a union catalog that would encompass all of these selections, and how to organize this information, in itself required a tremendous amount of preparation.


You've recently been removed from the Board. Can you indicate how this transpired and how this will affect the direction of the society?
Herschel Gilbert's supporters had come to dominate the Board of Trustees of the Society, and we had really reached an impasse: either Herschel was going to prevail, or I would resume presiding over the Society, and things would get back to normal. I would have no part of it otherwise. The Board made their choice, and on the basis of several trumped up allegations against me as an excuse, they ousted me. I can't predict how it's going to affect the future of the Society. In January of 1990, I was supposed to be full-time executive director, the L. J. Skaggs and Mary C. Skaggs foundation had made a grant to the Society to pay one third of a full-time salary for two years for an executive director, a full-time staff person. And the purpose of this staff position, one, would be to provide editorial support for the Union Catalog of Film Music, the writing and implementation of a three-year plan, basically public representation, project development, the usual things that an administrator does. I wrote the grant proposal for that and submitted it and they funded it, they were all for it. And, basically, when it came time for me to assume that position, in January of 1990, Herschel and a few other Board members, became opposed to it, because they felt that my primary responsibility was to raise funds.


Now, this was not something that I ever agreed to because, for an interim period for about eight months prior to that, I had been working half-time as executive director. I stepped down in March of 1989 as President, to become a half-time executive director. Somewhere in all of this, even though it was pretty well clarified to the best of my understanding, that one of several functions that I was to perform on a half-time basis, was fund-raising. And, of course, fund-raising is not a sure-fire thing. You can spend a lot of time writing grant proposals and hitting people up for money, and not raise a dime. And that doesn't mean that you haven't done your job, it just means that people aren't interested in giving money or that you haven't found the right people, or the right approach. I finally came up with the idea of approaching Disney to underwrite the cataloging and preservation of their music library, which I thought was a splendid idea. Unfortunately, this was towards the end of the year, in 1989, and as you know studios get backed up with production at that time, and so it had to be put on hold, but Disney was very interested and we had some very promising discussions with Andy Hill, who is second in command of their music department over there, and that's where it stood. Well, I brought this to the Board, early in 1990, and they weren't satisfied that this was pending and they offered to continue my half-time employment, not the full-time employment, for three months, in which time I brought in this project, as well as a project which was to catalog all of Alfred Newman’s music (something to be funded by the Newman family, spearheaded by David Newman) and which was, again, in the talking stages - these things can't be rushed. And they just felt that somehow I hadn't “closed the deal,” as they put it.


What do you see for the future of the Society? Do you have any association with it at this point?
I don't know. I'm starting a new Society which will try to do everything that S.P.F.M. was originally intended to do, but wasn't able to. It's to be called the International Film Music Society.


What plans do you have for this new Society? How will it differ from the S.P.F.M.?
One thing is that I think we will start with the first scholarly journal of film music, and I think I'm going to call it The Journal of Film Music* or something like that, and really have in-depth, well-researched articles and, this might sound a little, high-brow, but there is no such magazine or journal at the present time, most journals as you know are aimed at the fan, there is no scholarly journal devoted to film music, at present. I've already talked to U.C. Press about possibly publishing it, and they did express some interest.


What would be an example of what you'd be doing there?

Oh, I think probably it would be like a musicology journal, maybe you could compare it to Popular Music, which is published by Cambridge University Press, something like that, or the Journal of Jazz Studies, something along those lines. We're also interested in making a central, sort of little research library, where we will have a xeroxed copy of every article ever written on film music, and we want to issue a kind of ongoing bibliography of what's published, an international bibliography of film music articles. Again, with the intent of encouraging research and writing about film music. Since S.P.F.M. seems to have abandoned the project, we're going ahead with a union catalog of our own.** Besides that we are going to publish an International Encyclopedia of Film Music, which will have biographical entries on virtually every film and TV composer living and dead, definitions of terms and subject entries on everything from “Mickey-Mousing” to click-tracks, and brief histories of the movie studio music departments. We want it to be the reference book for film music. We also have some ideas about issuing selected historical recordings and are working with Dave Fuller of Screen Archives Entertainment of Texas in this regard.


As far as the Society of Preservation of Film Music itself is concerned, where do you think that might be going in the future?

Who knows? Who can say? I can’t predict the future other than to just say that unless they can do something more than stage these dinner parties which they have once a year, I see it turning into a professional fraternity, just another public relations entity for the careers of film composers - something it was never supposed to be. Ironic as it may sound to you, this is why I had - and still have - very strong reservations about a film composer heading it.


I can't emphasize enough that the composers should not be running the organization, because it then tends to have the appearance of a self-serving, private interest group. The composers already have their own professional associations for that purpose - the Composers and Lyricists Guild of America, ASCAP, BMI, the American Society of Music Arrangers, and of course, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences, which has a music branch run by film composers. All of these organizations already put on award shows and dinner parties. The Society for the Preservation of Film Music should be run by persons outside the film industry: in my opinion, the film music aficionados.


* Rosar founded and is editor of The Journal of Film Music published by Equinox Publishing. Volume 1 No. 1 was published June 19 2009. In September 1997 the SPFM organization was renamed The Film Music Society with Marilee Bradford as Producing Director since 2005.

** William H. Rosar, and Leslie N. Andersen (Editors), Union Catalog of Motion Picture Music, The International Film Music Society, 1992.

by Pascal Dupont 10 May, 2024
Charles Allan Gerhardt English version adapted by Doug Raynes - FRENCH VERSION AND COLLECTION had a reputation as a great conductor, record producer and musical arranger. His major work at RCA on the Classic Film Scores series earned him recognition from film music devotees of Hollywood’s Golden Age, as well as other renowned conductors of his day. Born on February 6, 1927 in Detroit, Michigan, Charles Gerhardt developed a passion for music and percussion instruments from an early age. At the age of five, he took piano lessons, and by the age of nine, had established a solid reputation as an orchestrator and composer. He spent his early school years in Little Rock, Arkansas, then after 10 years, having completed his schooling, moved with his family to Illinois for his military duties, he served in the U.S. Navy during World War II as a chaplain's aide in the Aleutian Islands, then became an active member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars. He went on to study at the University of Illinois, at the College of William and Mary, and later at the University of Southern California. Throughout his time at school Gerhardt was attracted not only to music, but also to the sciences. Passionate about the art of recording, he joined Westminster Records for five years, until the company ceased operations, and then joined Bell Sound. One day, he received a phone call from George Marek to meet with the heads of Reader's Digest, to discuss producing recordings for their mail-order record business; a contact that was to secure his musical future and a rich career spanning more than 30 years. Gerhardt's first job for Reader's Digest was to produce a record; “A Festival of Light Classical Music”; a 12 LP box set that he produced in full. One of Gerhardt's finest projects was the production of another 12 LP box set, “Les Trésores de la Grande Musique (Treasury of Great Music)”, featuring the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by some of the leading figures of the day: Charles Munch to Bizet and Tchaikovsky, Rudolf Kempe to Strauss and Respighi, Josef Krips to Mozart and Haydn, Antal Dorati to Strauss and Berlioz, Brahms 4th Symphony by Fritz Reiner and Sibelius’ 2nd Symphony by Sir John Barbirolli. In the 1950s he conducted works by Vladimir Horowitz, Wanda Landowska, Kirsten Flagstad and William Kapeli. In the early 1960s, Gerhardt lived in England, where he made most of his recordings, but kept a foothold in the United States, mainly in New York. Often, when he went to the United States after a period of recording sessions, he would stop off in Baltimore and spend some time listening to cassettes of his new recordings. Gerhardt loved percussion instruments, especially tam-tams. One of his favorite recordings was the Columbia mono disc of Scriabin's Poem of Ecstasy, with Dimitri Mitropoulos and the New York Philharmonic. He had great admiration and respect for the many conductors he worked with, starting with Arturo Toscanini, with whom he worked for several years before the Maestro's death. It was Toscanini who suggested that Gerhardt become a conductor, which he did! His career as an orchestra director began when he had to replace a conductor who failed to show up for rehearsals. It was a position he would later occupy for various recording sessions and occasional concerts. His classical recordings include works by Richard Strauss, Tchaikovsky, Wagner, Ravel, Debussy, Walton and Howard Hanson. Hired by RCA Records, he transferred 78 rpm recordings of Enrico Caruso and other artists to 33 rpm. He took part in recordings by soprano singer Kirsten Flagstad and pianist Vladimir Horowitz. He worked with renowned conductors such as Fritz Reiner, Leopold Stokowski and Charles Munch, from whom he learned the tricks of the trade. Still at RCA, he assisted Arturo Toscanini, with whom he perfected his conducting skills. Then, in 1960, he produced recordings for RCA and Reader’s Digest in London, and joined forces with sound engineer Kenneth Wilkinson of Decca Records (RCA's European subsidiary), The two men got on very well and shared a passion for recording and sound quality, making an incredible number of recordings over a 30-year period. Also in 1960, RCA and Reader's Digest entrusted him with the production of a 12-disc LP box set entitled “ Lumière du Classique (A Festival of Light Classical Music) ”, sold exclusively by mail order. With a budget of $250,000, Gerhardt assumed total control of the project: repertoire, choice of orchestras and production. He recorded in London, Vienna and Paris, and hired such top names as Sir Adrian Boult, Massimo Freccia, Sir Alexander Gibson and René Leibowitz. The success of this project, in terms of both musical quality and sound, earned him recognition from his employers. Other projects of similar scope followed… A boxed set of Beethoven's symphonic works with René Leibowitz and The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. A boxed set of Rachmaninoff's works for piano and orchestra with Earl Wild, Jascha Horenstein and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, the above mentioned 12 LP disc set “Trésor de la Grande Musique (Treasury of Great Music)” with the Royal Philharmonic conducted by some of the greatest directors of the time: Fritz Reiner, Charles Munch, Rudolf Kempe, Sir John Barbirolli, Sir Malcolm Sargent, Antal Dorati and Jascha Horenstein, with whom Gerhardt had sympathized. In January 1964 in London, Gerhardt joined forces with Sidney Sax, instrumentalist and conductor, to form a freelance orchestra. This successful group went on to join the National Philharmonic Orchestra of London, an impressive line-up that would later become Jerry Goldsmith's orchestra of choice. With Peter Munves, head of RCA's classical division, he conceived the idea of recording an album devoted exclusively to the film music of Erich Wolfgang Korngold, one of his favorite composers. Enthusiastic about the project, Munves gave Gerhardt carte blanche, and was offered a helping hand by George Korngold, producer and son of the famous Viennese composer, who owned all the copies of his father's scores. The Adventure Began : The Sea Hawk: Classic Film Scores of Erich Wolfgang Korngold. For this first disc, Gerhardt selected 10 scores by Korngold, which he recorded in the Kingsway Hall Studio in London, renowned for its excellent acoustics. The disc thus benefits from optimal recording conditions, favoring at the same time the performances of the National Philharmonic (and its leader, Sidney Sax), a formidable orchestra made up of London's finest musicians and freelance soloists. Each album was recorded in the same studio, with Kenneth Wilkinson as sound engineer and George Korngold as consultant/producer. As soon as it was released, the album's success received strong acclaim in classical music circles and received a feature in Billboard No. 37, a first in this category in December 1972. It took no less than a year to sell the first 10,000 copies in all the specialist record suppliers and the album went on to sell over 38,000 copies, making it the fifth best-selling album in the “classical” category in 1973. On the strength of this success, Peter Munves and RCA entrusted Charles Gerhardt with the production of further discs devoted to other world-renowned composers of Hollywood music. The program includes several albums dedicated to Max Steiner and Erich Wolfgang Korngold plus one each to Miklos Rozsa, Franz Waxman, Dimitri Tiomkin and Bernard Herrmann, followed by 3 volumes associated with specific film stars such as Bette Davis, Errol Flynn and Humphrey Bogart. Then, a disc devoted to Alfred Newman, a composer who was a pillar of the famous Hollywood sound, who Gerhardt admired and had met: “Newman was a charming man, full of good humor. He was friendly, fun and always had a joke. With his eternal black cigar in hand, he was a composer by trade, down-to-earth, discussed little about himself but was a first-rate advisor in my life. “ Gerhardt would consult certain composers in advance about how to recreate suites from their works, or when this wasn't possible, he would rearrange the suites himself and submit them to the composers for approval. "Some critics complained that my suites were too short, but my aim in the case of each album was to present a well-split 'portrait' of the composer, highlighting his many creative facets". Although Korngold, Newman and Steiner were no longer around to lend their support, Gerhardt was lucky enough to still work with Herrmann, Rózsa and Tiomkin as consultants who turned up at the recording studio to lend a hand. Gerhardt also had the idea of creating albums focusing on a single film star. Three specific volumes were devoted to music from the films of Humphrey Bogart, Errol Flynn and Bette Davis. Although these albums suffer from too great a diversity of genres, they still offer the chance to hear and discover rare and previously unpublished compositions. The best conceived album was arguably the one devoted to Bette Davis. Conscious of the important role played by music in her films, the legendary actress took part in the conception of the album, knowing that it favored scores by Max Steiner designed for Warner Bros. The Collection Begins ! Gerhardt's passion for certain composers knows no bounds, but he soon envisages a disc devoted to Miklos Rozsa, including suites for “Spellbound” and “The Red House”, one of his favorite scores, which he will exhume to create one of the longest suites in the series. At the same time, he received various fan wish lists and films to watch, such as “The Four Feathers”, which he had never seen and which gave him the opportunity to discover a splendid score by Miklos Rozsa that he had never heard before. He was disappointed, however, not to be able to conceive a longer “Spellbound” sequel for rights reasons. Despite RCA's full approval, Gerhardt realized that it was not easy to record film music in its original form, as few were ever edited, played and made available for rental. For The Sea Hawks album, things were simpler, as Georges Korngold had copies of his father's scores, and Warner Bros had also archived material in good condition. From the outset, Gerhardt encountered other major problems in the search for and discovery of scores hidden away in other studios, often with the unpleasant surprise of discovering missing or incomplete conductors, or others heavily modified by orchestrators during recording sessions, or the surprise of discovering, in certain cases, instrumentation information noted in shorthand on the edges of the conductor score. For the disc dedicated to Max Steiner, for example, the conductor score for “King Kong” had disappeared from the RKO archives, having been shipped in 1950 to poorly maintained warehouses in Los Angeles where it had become totally degraded and illegible. With the help of Georges Korngold, Gerhardt was able to reconstruct a substantial suite from the piano models left by Steiner at the time. This experience was repeated when the conductor score for Dimitri Tiomkin's “The Thing” was discovered in the same warehouse, in an advanced state of disintegration. Fortunately for Gerhardt, Tiomkin, who was still alive, had been able to provide precise piano maquettes with orchestration information in shorthand, revealing a complex and highly innovative style of writing. Tiomkin always composed at the piano, inscribing very specific information and signs on the edges of the scores in pencil, an ingenious system of his own invention that was difficult to decipher. “Revisiting the score of ‘The Thing from Another World’ was a complex task, involving experimental passages and an unorthodox orchestra. You can understand that I had a huge job on my hands. When I approached the recording sessions, it was not without some trepidation. However, the composer present made no criticism or comment on my work, and was delighted. He was delighted.” For “Gone With The Wind”, Steiner was against the idea of remaking a complete soundtrack, as he felt that too many passages were repeated. It was an opportunity for him to revisit his own score, integrating his favorite melodies. This synthesis gave him the opportunity to revitalize his music by eliminating the least interesting parts of the score. Conceived as long suites or isolated themes, the discs reflect the essence of the composers' work. The “Classic Film Scores” series by Franz Waxman, Bernard Herrmann and Miklos Rozsa etc will become a big hit with collectors. For Gerhardt, this will be an opportunity to unearth forgotten or rare scores such as Herrmann's “The White Witch” and “On a Dangerous Ground”, Hugo Friedhofer's “The Sun Also Rises” and early recordings for Waxman's “Prince Valliant” and Rozsa's “The Red House”, all with new, impeccable acoustics. For “Elisabeth and Essex”, Erich Korngold had already prepared a suite in the form of an Overture, which was given its world premiere in a theater. The suite for “The Adventures of Robin Hood” also pre-existed. Franz Waxman created his own suite for “A Place in the Sun”, which was also performed in concert. Dimitri Tiomkin, Miklos Rozsa and Bernard Herrmann acted as consultants and contributed arrangements to their scores. For the continuation of “White Witch Doctor”, Bernard Herrman added percussion to link the different musical tableaux. He did the same for the different parts of “Citizen Kane”. Miklos Rozsa saw an opportunity to add a male choir to the suite from “The Jungle Book”, based on an idea by Charles Gerhardt. For the record dedicated to Errol Flynn, Gerhardt re-orchestrated the theme “The Lights of Paris” from Hugo Friedhofer's “The Sun also Rises”, as the original was no longer available. “I wanted to go back to that time and systematically explore the very substance of the great film scores of the late 30s and 40s, sending them back directly to their images as dramatic entities. The desire to rediscover tunes we know and to take into account the contexts in which they were originally used. I decided to recreate these scores with their original orchestrations, and this could only be done by returning to the ultimate sources, as the composers had originally conceived them.” Keen to open up the collection to other genres, such as science fiction, Gerhardt dedicated two further albums to the series in 1992. The first featured contemporary sequels to “Star Wars” and “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”, promoting the work of John Williams, a leading composer of new film music. Then another called “The Spectacular World of Classic Film Scores”, presenting a disappointing compilation of scores that had already been recorded, except for the creation of a sequel to Dimitri Tiomkin's “The Thing From Another World” and Daniele Amfitheatrof's rarely heard theme “Dance of the Seven Voiles” from Salome. In 1978, the collection was published in Spain by RCA Cinema Treasures. In the USA and Europe, the Classic Film Scores LP series was reissued in the early 80s with a black art deco cover and colored star index. All Volumes in the First Series Were Reissued : By the end of the '80s, the series was running out of steam, and Charles Gerhardt planned to relaunch his collection with albums dedicated to famous American actresses, a new volume for Max Steiner and the Western, a volume reconstructing the score of Waxman's “The Bride of Frankenstein”, followed by volumes devoted to Alex North, Hugo Friedhofer, Victor Young and Elmer Bernstein... But RCA would not support Gerhardt in these projects, preferring to release the collection on CD for the first time. In early 1990, RCA asked Gerhardt to supervise and co-produce the collection, which he saw as an opportunity to revisit some of the volumes, inserting tracks that had not appeared on the LPs or extending certain suites. The volume devoted to Franz Waxman, “Sunset Boulevard”, was the first to be released. The CD did not benefit from any particular promotion, but sold very well, as did the other CDs that followed... A collection marked by a new design in silver pantone. The CDs series was reissued in 2010, still under the RCA Red Seal label, but distributed by Sony Music Entertainment. RCA Victor's Classic Films Scores series represents a unique collection in the history of film music recordings. 14 recordings of rare quality, produced by Georges Korngold and Charles Gerhardt to become one of the revelations of the reissue phenomenon. Other Concepts... Later, Gerhardt spent most of his time in London, continuing to make recordings. After retiring from RCA in 1986, he returned to independent work for Readers Digest and other record labels, a position he held in production and musical supervision until 1997. Since 1991 he had lived in Redding, California. In later years, he did not appear professionally, refusing all public invitations because of his desire to remain discreet. In his entourage he was close to three cousins, Lenore L Engel and Elizabeth Anne Schuetze, both living in San Antonio, and cousin Steven W Gerhardt of St. Pete Beach, Florida. In late November 1998 Charles Gerhardt was diagnosed with brain cancer and died of complications following surgery on February 22, 1999. He was 72 years old. Thus ends this tribute to Charles Gerhardt and the most famous collection of film music records: The Classic Film Scores series.
by Doug Raynes 24 Jan, 2024
Following on from Tadlow’s epic recording of El Cid, the same team – Nic Raine conducting and James Fitzpatrick producing – have turned their attention to a completely different type of epic film for the definitive recording of Ernest Gold’s Academy Award winning score for Otto Preminger’s Exodus (1960). The score is something of a revelation because aside from the main theme, the music has received little attention through recordings. Additionally the sound quality of the original soundtrack LP was disappointing and much music was deleted or cut from the film.
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