Blog Post

Joan of Arc

Will Shaman

Originally published in Film Music and Altered States of Consciousness
Text reproduced by kind permission of the author Will Shaman

This film is a re-telling of the famous story of Joan of Arc, otherwise known as the ‘Maid of Orléans.’ She was a historical character, born around 1412 and dying at the stake 30 May 1431, and has been the subject of several films and a great deal of literature, both fact and fiction. This is one of two films used as case studies in this dissertation, the other being The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc (1999). They follow broadly the same plotline, although the 1948 film depicts the English as occupying Orléans, whereas The Messenger is more historically accurate, showing the French defending the city against the English.


Plot summary. It is 1428 and a pious peasant girl from the hamlet of Domrémy, Joan d’Arc, receives persistent visions telling her she must see Charles, the Dauphin at Chinon. He is France’s king-in-waiting, under constant pressure from the barons who lend him money, and the English and their Burgundian allies who have been attacking his country for many years, including the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 when France was ignominiously defeated. Joan is reluctant to obey her visions at first, but eventually relents and manages to persuade the local governor to allow her to make the journey to Chinon. Once there, the Dauphin’s court attempt to trick her by dressing up one of the courtiers as the Dauphin and placing him on the throne, but Joan is not fooled and she correctly seeks out the real Dauphin. To eliminate all doubt, she offers to speak to him in private and tell him things that are so secret that “they are known to you and God alone”. This she does and, believing she is fulfilling a prophecy, people flock from miles around to form a great army to rescue Orléans, which is currently occupied by the English.

After waiting for longer than Joan wanted, they set off for Orléans and Joan meets with opposition from the French captains, although the ordinary soldiers follow her. Leading the bloody assault she is wounded and the French are repulsed. But despite her injuries, she takes to the field again and rouses the spirits of the demoralized French army who go on to take Orléans, thus opening the way for the Dauphin to be crowned Charles VII at Reims. However, the new king rejects Joan’s urgings to finish the English defeat by marching on their last stronghold at Paris, preferring instead to sign a peace treaty in exchange for Burgundian money. In Joan’s eyes, he has betrayed her and the whole of France and, to make things worse, her visions and voices have ceased. She decides to leave, despite Charles’ orders, but the Duke of Burgundy captures her and sells her to Bishop Cauchon, who is allied with the English. He then presides over Joan’s trial, at which Cauchon is seen as an unfair judge. Any of his fellow priests who contradict him are arrested and Joan is subjected to endless questioning while being kept in a terrible jail. They pressure her to sign a document denying her voices and visions, in exchange for which she will be transferred to a church prison attended by women and will escape execution. However, Cauchon goes back on his word and Joan remains in the same prison as before. She hears her voices again and they tell her to recant, resulting in her execution at the stake. This fulfills her own prophesy that she will be taken prisoner and die just over a year after first meeting the Dauphin.

Please note the version I am using is the 100-minute edit that was released in 1948 and distributed by RKO Pictures, which is 45 minutes shorter than director Victor Fleming intended. The cuts do not do the film any favours: there are several breaks in continuity that disturb the flow of the story, such as at 01:13:47, when we cut to Joan on trial and she delivers a historically accurate answer (“If I am not, may God put me there. If I am, may He keep me there”) but the question itself (“Are you in God’s grace?”) was edited out, making a poignant remark something of a non-sequiteur. It is reported that Fleming wept when he saw it. I have not been able to obtain a copy of the full-length film but, for the purposes of this research, it is in any case more appropriate to use the version that was released and watched by the majority of the public.

Analysis. It must first be stressed that Joan was filmed just after the end of the Second World War. It was a time, even in relatively prosperous America, when material concerns were paramount. There was little popular interest in pondering mystical ideas or what consciousness might be. It would not be until the late fifties, when times were less economically challenging, that alternative thinking would rise in importance (often inspired by the use of psychoactive substances, such as the so-called Beat Generation’s use of marijuana and, later, LSD [1] amongst scientists and youth culture). The sort of discourses on ASCs we enjoy today would therefore not have informed Friedhofer’s response to Joan of Arc’s experiences, and he is not likely to have viewed Joan’s story as anything other than a historical one (albeit with religious overtones). This can be discerned right from the opening credits, with its grand fanfares and large orchestral treatment signaling that this film is meant to be regarded as a great historical epic. It is interesting to compare this with the opening bars of Olivier’s 1944 production of Henry V [2], another one of many war-related feature films to be released around the time of the Second World War. Both feature similar use of strings, brass, timpani and cymbal crashes.

Friedhofer’s approach to this film would have been pragmatic; it was after all only one of five films he scored that were released in 1948. In his lifetime, he wrote for 256 films without credit and was primary composer for another 166 movies, shorts and TV series. He was therefore an extraordinarily busy man and would have had little time to consider the sociological or spiritual implications of Joan’s story in any depth. This is characterized by his famous reply when asked about his progress with the score, “I’ve just started the barbeque!” [3] (meaning the scene where Joan is burnt at the stake). Clearly, he treated his compositions very much as a job and worked hard to complete many scores; one might almost suggest a ‘production line’ approach. Notwithstanding this, the way Friedhofer handles his leitmotifs and themes is sensitive to the action on screen, and he creates a good sense of continuity. When asked about his approach to film composition, he is recorded as saying:

It is not important for the audience to be aware of the technique by which music affects them, but affect them it must. Film music is absorbed, you might say, through the pores. But the listener should be aware, even subliminally, of continuity, of a certain binder that winds through the film experience. A score must relate, it must integrate.

The main problem with the score from a modern perspective arises from this very pragmatism. There is a sense that the music is accompanying a drama and not augmenting the inner world of Joan. This is perhaps partly because the film has its origins as a stage play [4] and so brings a quality of stage acting, rather than naturalism. Be that as it may, the production is deliberately stylized, with the opening narration and storybook presentation setting the tone for the whole movie. The sets and photography are presented as formal set pieces, and the overall impression is not naturalistic, which is reflected in the score.

Friedhofer’s score is exclusively orchestral, reinforced at certain points with a choir, harp and bells, and is broadly in the romantic genre that was favoured for feature films of the period. There is nearly a complete separation between the musical score and the rest of the sound track, with almost no merging of Foley and music, as seen in other case studies here. The exceptions are the battle scenes, where the horns we see blown on the battlefield merge with the orchestra’s brass section, and the coronation of the Dauphin. In this second case, we hear complex choral arrangements and plainsong; although we do not actually see the singers, we assume they must be there. The coronation scene also features a trumpet fanfare that is augmented by other, extra-diegetic, instruments, so again the diegetic boundaries are blurred. However, these examples are the exception rather than the rule. As a classically trained musician, it was natural for Friedhofer to score in this way. Of course, in a pre-digital age it was also much more difficult even to imagine such fluid interchange between the soundtrack’s various layers as we see today, so Friedhofer’s role was strictly musical. Not surprisingly, as someone of European descent who had spent many of his early years in film orchestrating for Max Steiner [5], he employed leitmotifs, and these are all demonstrated in the overture that accompanies the opening credits [6].


There are clear musical signs for the audience to read when watching the film: lush string arrangements accompany quiet but emotionally charged scenes; heavy brass and percussion are brought out for battle sequences; and spiritual moments are given extra lift with the use of choirs. The movement from one emotional position to another is signaled using these basic musical building blocks. So, for instance, when Joan is in prison feeling despair, having denied her ASCs in order to save herself from execution, we hear a sad orchestral air [7]. She is regretting he denial, yet she is fearful of facing death. As she prays to her God, the choral leitmotif is introduced, which Joan responds to by looking up; we know from its previous use in the film that this leitmotif signals the return of Joan’s voices. As she realizes with relief her God is hearing her prayer, the orchestral component of the track is boosted with brass and this symbolizes the strength she receives from her experience. As the choir fades, the concluding orchestral chord moves from minor to major, giving a satisfying sense of completion to the end of this scene and indicating the resolution of her quandary: she would rather die than lose her soul.


The occasional appearance of Joan’s spiritual guides is signaled elsewhere, as with the scene where Joan approaches Orléans before the siege and announces the decision to strike [8]. This sequence, which could be read as a depiction of one of Joan’s ASCs, begins with an ominous theme combining heavy cello and double bass, plus horns, timpani and rolling snare drums, as the camera pans across the gathered French troops. Joan’s eyes are open at this point, so we can assume she is in a state of normal consciousness. There is an air of expectation and everyone is waiting for Joan to give her orders. The tension mounts as we are then shown the English at the battlements of Orléans, but when the camera cuts back to Joan, she has her eyes closed as if in prayer and the theme gives way to Joan’s choral leitmotif with accompanying bells, showing us she is experiencing one of her ASCs; her lips are moving silently and she looks upwards as the voices also ascend in pitch. The choir climaxes as Joan draws her sword, having apparently been told what she must do, and she gives the order to attack. The orchestra and timpani return, underlining Joan’s return to normal consciousness.


Friedhofer’s score, though excellent, makes little attempt to step outside of the expectations of the studio system he worked for. His use of orchestral and choral music is very conventional, and would not have challenged an audience in 1948. On the contrary, his music served to portray Joan of Arc’s spontaneous spiritual experiences as acceptable religious experiences [9]. In real life, her ASCs must have carried enormous force in order to drive her from her peasant home and face the potential threat of being imprisoned or killed as a heretic. The fact that the Dauphin was convinced by her experiences and was, as her ASCs predicted, later crowned king was further evidence of the ASCs’ potent influence. By flouting the conventions of the day (claiming direct communication with God; requesting leadership in the French army, despite her gender and low social standing; and, crucially, wearing male attire) Joan was highly revolutionary. Yet the musical portrayal of the ASCs that drove her references traditional church music and places Joan firmly within the acceptable domain of state-approved religion. In this regard, the score relies on a posteriori knowledge of Joan’s canonization nearly 500 years after the Church burnt her at the stake and does not attempt to reflect the fact that her claims at the time must have been highly controversial. This can be viewed as part of a larger picture, where the audience of the 1940s was politically docile and largely conformist. The notion that individual, personal experience may conflict with our culture’s dominant ideology has been sanitized in this film, leaving the audience feeling secure under the state’s (and its religion’s) protection. Friedhofer’s score, by using safe, conventional techniques and instrumentation, serves only to underline the non-threatening nature of Joan’s ASCs. I will compare this with the other Joan of Arc case study, The Messenger where ASCs are portrayed in a more naturalistic fashion.

Notes

[1] LSD (Lysergic acid diethylamide) was actually synthesized by Albert Hofmann as early as 1938. However, he did not discover its psychedelic properties for another five years and it was not produced commercially until 1947. Even then, it remained largely unknown outside of the laboratory until the 1950s, when the CIA decided to experiment with it as a form of chemical warfare as part of their infamous Project MKULTRA. This included secretly giving doses of LSD to US and Canadian citizens and military personnel. Later, in the early 60s, there were scientific trials (unconnected with the CIA) involving volunteers, many of whom were students. This activity spread knowledge of LSD amongst the American population and fuelled the social revolutions that began during that decade including, ironically, peace protests that helped end the Vietnam War.
[2] See Henry V extract.mov (duration 00:00:20). Taken from Henry V (1944), music by William Walton; directed by and starring Laurence Olivier.
[3] From a conversation with composer David Raksin, recorded on website ‘HUGO FRIEDHOFER – Fathers of Film Music, Part 9’, MOVIE MUSIC UK
[4] Joan of Lorraine was a successful Broadway play from 1946 by Maxwell Anderson who, with Andrew Solt, adapted it for this film. Ingrid Bergman also starred in the theatre performance.
[5] Max Steiner, dubbed the ‘father of film music’, wrote the groundbreaking score for King Kong (1933) amongst many others. He trained in Vienna and was privately tutored by Gustav Mahler and Robert Fuchs, and his godfather was Richard Strauss, so it is not surprising that, when he went to America and started working in Hollywood, he brought with him strong influences from the European classical tradition. He is quoted as saying, “Every character should have a leitmotif”. This approach to film scoring had a lasting effect on other composers, including Friedhofer.
[6] See Joan of Arc extract 1.mov (duration 00:04:22).
[7] See Joan of Arc extract 2.mov (duration 00:01:54).
[8] See Joan of Arc extract 3.mov (duration 00:01:16).
[9] In theology, the terms “spiritual experience” and “religious experience” are often used interchangeably, which in my opinion is a mistake. Here, I use ‘spiritual experience’ to denote one that arises from the depths (or heights) of consciousness, such that it appears to originate from a place outside of the individual experiencing it, without there being a need for it to have a relationship with any religious or cultural ideology. Such experiences have much in common with (or are indistinguishable from) other ASCs, such as certain aspects of schizophrenia, or the effects of some psychoactive substances, and are as such of potential danger to the dominant ideology. ‘Religious experience’ I use to describe one that may have originally been spiritual in nature, but has since been organized, structured and tamed, in order to harmonize with the tenets of a particular religious ideology. This makes the experience less visceral, more socially acceptable and eliminates any threat to the dominant culture. It is thus isolated from accusations of ‘Otherness’.

Charles Gerhardt & Classic Film Scores

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.

Exodus

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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