Blog Post

Ernest Gold on Wallenberg: A Hero’s Story

Randall D. Larson

An Interview with Ernest Gold by Randall D. Larson


Originally published in CinemaScore #13/14, 1985


Text reproduced by kind permission of the editor and publisher, Randall D. Larson

Ernest Gold, who we had the pleasure of interviewing at length in our 10th issue, recently composed an excellent score for the television mini-series, WALLENBERG: A HERO’S STORY, which was broadcast over two evenings in April, 1985. Gold, who has said he prefers to score films dealing with personalities and emotions rather than action and sheer spectacle, was an appropriate choice and his music lent an important emotional undercurrent that tied the characters and their experiences in WALLENBERG together. Interviewed in June, 1985, Gold expressed his pleasure in working on WALLENBERG and described in detail his approach to scoring the picture.


How did you become involved with this mini-series?


I saw an announcement in the trade paper about Dick Berg, for whom I had done a movie of the week many years ago, FOOTSTEPS (1972), who was producing a mini-series called WALLENBERG, with a brief description of what the story was about. I also noticed that my former neighbor and friend, Lamont Johnson, was directing the picture. I got very excited, and I wrote a note to Dick Berg telling him I was very interested in doing the score, and then I promptly forgot all about it. A few weeks later I received a telephone call from Dick Berg asking me to come in to discuss with him the possibility of my doing the score, and we agreed that I would do it. That’s how I became involved with it.
I felt that the subject matter, of course, was one that I would be able to do very easily because I had, after all, lived in Austria when Hitler marched in, so I had first hand experience with Nazi’s and the period.

Noting your previous distaste for working in television, how did you find your experiences working on WALLENBERG?


I find that television is changing somewhat. I’m not interested in doing a series, but I find certain movies made for television and certainly miniseries extremely interesting to do, and I don’t have any prejudices against these at all. I would certainly rather work on something like that than trying to do one of those teenage pictures which require hard rock, which is not my kettle of fish at all. The experience on WALLENBERG, specifically, was without any question one of my happiest and most satisfying experiences I’ve ever had in all my years in the film and television business. I felt that I was treated with respect, my opinions were taken seriously, what I did do was greatly appreciated by everybody. When I say “appreciated”, I don’t mean a pat on the back, but people really listening to what I was doing and singling out this or that thing I had done for a laudatory comment. So it was a completely satisfying and happy and marvelous experience, but then again Dick Berg is a marvelous man to work with and so is Lamont Johnson, and all I can say is I hope we work together again real soon.


How long were you given to score the film, and how large of an orchestra was used?


I was given eight weeks to score the film, from the time I got my first timings and a video tape of the picture, until the scoring date. As it turned out, it only took me six weeks, and the last two weeks I rested and was free. But I had plenty of time to do it. The size of the orchestra was thirty-nine men, which I certainly could make do; I would have preferred a few more strings. If I would have had perhaps ten more men it would have been a little easier to do in some respects, but thirty-nine men was certainly adequate. We also used a chorus of sixteen voices.


How would you describe your approach to scoring WALLENBERG? Were there any specific elements within the film that either you or the director wanted to emphasize, musically?


The director told me, primarily, that he didn’t want the obvious kind of approach to Nazis, with the overemphasis on the military with marching rhythms and drums, none of that kind of Hollywood Nazi stuff, like “ve haf meens to mayke you talk” and all that. He wanted Eichmann to come off as a human being, sly and ruthless, with a devastating charm and a devastating anger, and that gave me kind of a clue as to how he saw the whole film. I saw it really as a relationship of personalities rather than stereotypes.


As far as my own approach to the scoring was concerned, I felt, taking my cue from what Lamont Johnson had said, that the best approach would be a psychological approach. I tried not so much to play the physical events, but to play the psychology of the people and how that was influenced by the events. In other words, if something horrible happened, I played the insecurity and the uncertainty of what was going to happen to them, rather than the horror that you saw on the screen already; with, of course, a few necessary exceptions. But, by and large, I tried to make real to the audience, through the score, the feelings and psychological stresses (as well as the good feelings, for instance, between the Baroness and Wallenberg) from a psychological viewpoint.


How did you deal, thematically, with the diverse elements of the film and its characters?


The way I see it is like this: when you have a broad canvas, such as a mini-series gives you, I feel a good way to approach, and this was certainly the case in WALLENBERG, would be like a playwright. You have your starring parts, you have your supporting parts, you have your bit parts. So there were starring themes, supporting themes and thematic material that would be the equivalent of a bit part, that showed up once, twice, maybe three times in the picture and was gone.


The central character, of course, was Wallenberg. For Wallenberg, I used two themes, one was his characteristic of being a Swede, of being a European as opposed to, for instance, the two-fistedness of a John Wayne, which made him a somewhat more gentle and more sensitive kind of hero. That’s why, for Wallenberg, I used 3/4 time, both for his own theme and also for the Sweden theme, so it wouldn’t be martial. It wouldn’t be strutting in any sense, which he was not. And then I used his emotional side, that become the love theme with the Baroness, but it was also used when he says farewell to his mother in Sweden. So I have two themes that were closely related for Wallenberg, both as I say, in triple time; the theme for the Swedish hero on one side, and then the private man and, in a psychological sense, his feminine side, his feeling side, his nurturing side, which came out in his relationship with his mother and, of course, mostly with the Baroness.


For the Nazi’s, I wanted to get away, as I mentioned, from the martial, so I put a theme for them in 5/4 time, and I discovered, quite by accident, that the theme itself was also a five-bar theme, which makes it uncanny. You can’t march to it, it’s like you have an extra leg, and that makes it difficult to cope with, which is just what I wanted for the Nazi’s. It’s an unbalancing, unnatural meter, because, after all, our bodies have two arms, two legs, two eyes, two ears, everything that the body is, is in twos; we march, one-two, one-two, so suddenly having one-two one-three, one-two one-three to make up the five meters, in a philosophical sense, sounds contrary to nature, and of course that was the Nazi’s big specialty, running contrary to nature.


I had a theme for the little boy, which was sort of Russian-Jewish-Lithuanian in character, and it became symbolic of the whole Jewish faith. It is introduced in little bits; the first time we hear the theme in its completion is when he is dead, it plays once through and then we’re done with it. Those were the main ingredients, although there were many more themes; there was a theme for the young couple which was a very subordinate theme, mostly because there was no room to use it any more than that; it was a theme of simplicity and a certain naiveté and warmth among all that rubble. There were a total of six major themes, but when I say “major” I mean that they had different ranks but they were themes, as opposed to connecting material that may have been invented as I went along, used once or twice, and then were never heard again.


How closely did you work with the director and producer in scoring the film? What kind of input did they have?


I’m always a little cautious when the word “input” is used, because it’s a loaded word for me. “Input” implies that unless you put something in the composer from the outside, nothing will come out; at least that is the way I experience it. I don’t like input. I like to see the picture, I like to discuss the director’s ideas on the picture, not his musical ideas, and then I like to put on my thinking cap and just live with the picture and let my creative ideas flow, stimulated by the picture itself. That’s the only input that, to me, is really worth much, not what people say but what the picture does to me. The one specific input that came from Dick Berg, first over the objections from Lamont Johnson and I, though later on we saw what he meant, was the use of voices as an unspoken outcry of the suppressed and oppressed people. That idea was definitely a bit of input from Dick Berg, but he was not specific of what he wanted done with them, he just felt that voices would add something, and from then on it was my decision on how I used them. I used the voices in the most simple way, mostly one sustained note, like a hum that was in the air. It was as if the pain and the suffering of these people lay over the land like a miasma, and that one note, that keeps going and sometimes splits into dissonance and then comes together again, is like the layer of smoke from the crematoriums.


How did the film’s period and locale affect your scoring?


It didn’t cause any restrictions, because the period is not that far away that I couldn’t use almost the entire gamut of musical invention. There’s very little that has been invented in music that is really new since the 40’s, except the use of synthesizers. (I did use a synthesizer player with a whole bank of synthesizers, but not in order to be electronic, which I thought would be quite wrong for the period, but rather to give me colors which were not available by acoustical instruments. The synthesist and I spent three full days together, I made a list of fifty colors that I simply invented sitting at my desk while putting together ideas, and then we worked together to realize those colors. As it turned out, of the fifty, only about fifteen were really practicable, and of the fifteen I actually used perhaps only ten; there was no chance to use the others. But I came up with all kinds of unusual things, for example, a piccolo-oboe that would be an oboe sound in the piccolo register, a color which I call “corpse”, which is a color like something that is decaying, and you cannot do this with anything but a synthesizer! So I used these colors in conjunction with the acoustical orchestra as part of my pallet of colors.)


In any case, I did score for locale and period a great deal. For instance, the chardash when they are in the restaurant in Budapest, is certainly 30’s and 40’s Hungary; the restaurant music in the cafe in Sweden is certainly the sort of thing you would have heard there; the Wallenberg themes, both of them, have definite Scandinavian harmonic turns in them; the theme for the little boy has definite East European or even Russian melodic and harmonic turns in it; and the Nazi’s theme is quite Germanic, though the harmonic procedures are perhaps more World War II than specifically Germanic.


Were you involved with the few period songs that we used as source music?


Yes, I was. I helped pick them, as far as those that weren’t already selected or recorded at the time; for instance, Stormy Weather was recorded on location, and the film was made before I’d been engaged, so I’d had nothing to do with that, and Fools Rush In occurred in the dialog so that was de rigueur, as they say in France. But I picked the other songs, and then I wrote a great deal myself, for instance the big waltz number at the reception, and the long fox trot in the club after Stormy Weather, which I wrote for the picture. I certainly recorded all of it except for Stormy Weather, which already existed, and the Hungarian gypsy music in the early parts of the picture, which had been recorded on location when the picture was shot. Incidentally, the whole picture was shot in and around Zagreb, Yugoslavia, except for the opening in the Grove of Remembrance, which was actually shot in Israel.


Any other comments on your experience scoring WALLENBERG?


I would say that the most important thing was that, again, I had the great luxury that I had on EXODUS, that is I was engaged early. Dick Berg and I came to a definite understanding that I would do the picture early in November [1984], but I did not get any timings or a video cassette until right after Christmas, so I had better than six weeks to sketch musical ideas, to think about the exact combination of the orchestra, to try various things and see how they worked out. For instance I used the basset horn, which is very rarely used nowadays, an instrument that had a great vogue in Mozart’s day, which is halfway between the clarinet and the bass clarinet; I felt the bass clarinet was too glibly colorful and the clarinet was not necessarily the right register. I wanted something that had a melancholy alto sound, and of course the basset horn is perfect for that.


But these things are all very time consuming things, in addition to the simple act of just composing; for instance, I spent almost a week and a half on the Wallenberg theme. If you only have a day or two to get everything together, you cannot spend the thought and the time to keep working on little spots here and there until it’s perfect; so that was a very important thing, the fact that I was not rushed during the composition. I had the luxury of not having to work after dinner every day, I had the luxury of knocking off if I was very tired in the afternoon and letting it go until the next day. Not that I didn’t work hard, it was somewhat over an hour of music that I had to write, but I could work like an artist not like a scared rabbit!


That is the most important thing to me, because things that are written, as they say, under the gun, at least for me, do not produce the best kind of work. Now there are many composers, and I’ve often discussed this with my colleagues, who are procrastinators and when the moment comes that they have to sit down and do it because the deadline is coming, that gives them the necessary incentive and they buckle down and they produce good work. I don’t function that way. I’m a eager beaver and a quick starter, and I go out of the starting gate like a race horse when the bell rings and then I like to gradually taper off and end very calmly and in a relaxed manner so that I approach the recording session with a free mind and not in a state of exhaustion and green around the gills.


The kind of a working relationship that I had on Wallenberg was also very important. I was a part of the team and a creative equal rather than some musical amanuensis who is more or less told precisely what is wanted and fills it in, in a hurried fashion, records it and then boom, next job. I like to take pains. I’m a very severe critic of my own work, and I like to have the luxury of re-writing something two or three times if necessary until it is right and does for the picture what it should. I’m so pleased that you’re going to do this piece about the score, because I’ve had marvelous reports from all over the country, from other publications as well as a measure of fan mail from people about the score.

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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