Blog Post

Only Connect

John Belcher

Publication: The Creel, Volume 3, Number 5, Issue Number 12, Spring I998

Publisher: Alan Rawsthorne Society and The Rawsthorne Trust

Copyright © 1998, by The Rawsthorne Trust. All rights reserved.

Text reproduced by kind permission of the Rawsthorne Trust

Only Connect: Alan Rawsthorne’s Film Music in Context


"The first essential of a good film composer is a talent for composing. Film music must be genuine music." Alan Rawsthorne (
1)


The recent Silva Screen issue, 'The Ladykillers' (2) , reviewed in this issue, provides us with a much needed, tangible musical reference with which to measure Rawsthorne's writing for films in the context of his overall output. The three examples on this CD amply demonstrate the consistency of his style and quality when writing for the genre. We are immediately conscious of how admirably his distinctive voice is suited to the dramatic requirements of film. John McCabe has offered an insight into why this might be when he writes that "one of the greatest fascinations" of Rawsthorne's music derives from " ... the sense of profound undercurrents of emotion disguised by the elegant surface of the music, bursting out into forceful expressions on occasions. (3) The dramatic character which this reveals is a prevailing characteristic of his music: his juvenile writings disclose that his predilection for drama was established at an early stage. When writing for films the undercurrents which exist beneath the surface of the music find a natural place in the stratum which lies beneath the action on screen. Here drama and understatement coexist, as elsewhere in his music, to concentrate, but not usurp, the visual message. In some instances, understatement does take the form of that surface elegance of which John McCabe writes. This elegance is expressed as a refined sense of proportion, knowing when and how to apply music. This makes the overtly dramatic statement all the more telling when it is made.


Writing in the Symposium on the composer, edited by Alan Poulton, the late Hans Keller, an erudite and rigorous musicologist, supports the assertion of consistency when he writes of the film scores: "they [are] magnificent music — all of them, and however intricate and cogent their relation to the visual, they would lose absolutely nothing if that relation were lost, the experience of sheer musical substance, of a reality that can't be expressed any other way, would not only remain, but actually emphasise its own irreplaceability far more clearly than it could in the cinema ... Rawsthorne always wrote music in the first place, and film music, equally conscientiously and clearly, in the second." (4)


A quality of Rawsthorne the man, reflected in his music, is a tendency to economy of statement; he uses no more notes than are necessary to advance the course of a composition, make clear a structure or, in the present context, to support the action on the screen. By habit he was a reticent conversationalist, yet a studious listener and observer, and when moved to express himself he would do so trenchantly. Such acuity is essential when writing for film. He had an enviable ability to expose the essence of an argument, situation or problem; any badly-focussed and prolix discourse was in danger of being demolished by a well-aimed epigrammatic intervention. Keller, himself not tolerant of sloppy thinking, again recalled a germane instance of this quality at a critical stage of the Maggio Musicale's International Film Music Congress, held in Florence in 1950. In a complex debate, which centred on what exactly made a good film composer, Rawsthorne turned to Keller and murmured: "Has anybody yet said that what you need for a film composer is a composer?". (5)


With characteristic pragmatism Rawsthorne reminds us that the title music is "probably the only music your audience will hear conscientiously" and is a brief opportunity "to establish the mood of the ensuing drama." (6) The title music of The Cruel Sea and The Captive Heart immediately establishes that the composer is Rawsthorne, and within the compass of a few bars the dramatic portent of what is to follow. The composer's use of a device for calling the audience to attention is common to cinema and concert hall. The Overture for Farnham, the opening movement of the Suite for Brass Band, the 'Sarabande' of the Recorder Suite and the opening of the Viola Sonata are clearly from the same stable as the title music for The Captive Heart and The Cruel Sea. All share an arresting blend of bitter-sweet harmony and the rhythmic fingerprint of dotted note patterns, which look back to the baroque era. The long opening sequence of The Captive Heart — the basis for 'Prisoners' March' — is an exemplary demonstration of the way the composer develops his basic materials, here used initially to set the scene and mood. In the 'Prisoners' March' the contiguous development of the opening dramatic motif portrays the mood of the dejection, the weariness and the impending fate of the silent column of soldiers as they shuffle into captivity. This is a seamless episode, made so not by mere continuity, but through an innate dramatic commentary, one derived from the skillful application of motivic development.


Rawsthorne was given cause to consider the nature of the unobtrusive quality of his writing for films. He related in a BBC broadcast that a friend had been surprised to learn that he had written the score for Tank Tactics (Army Film Unit, 1942). The friend commented that "he hadn't noticed that there was music in the film at all." Rawsthorne admitted that " ... at first this seemed a little damping and I prepared to go back to my job in the Quartermaster's stores in a chastened mood. But then I thought that perhaps it wasn't so discouraging after all and that the music might have been fulfiling its purpose better unobserved than if it had called attention to itself [by being] music that was directly suggested by tanks — the sort of noise they make and the way they move about." Whilst, once again, this demonstrates the composer's judicious self-effacement, of greater significance is his rejection of the facile and obvious.


Whilst Hans Keller contends that Rawsthorne's film music is capable of separate existence, qua music, the majority of his writing is so well integrated with and at the service of the drama, that it provides almost no ready-made set pieces capable of being extracted for concert performance. Prior to the recent reconstructions from the scores of The Cruel Sea and Saraband for Dead Lovers, only 'Prisoners' March' had been published for independent performance. To make this possible, a small amount of reworking was needed, which Rawsthorne explains in a note on the title page of the manuscript, "This March is not taken from the film, but is based on music to the film." Rawsthorne took essential components from the opening titles and, now removed from the need to accompany the visual element and the tyranny of the stopwatch, he moulds them into a cogent structure, which eschews a triumphant concert ending, opting for dramatic integrity he leaves the prisoners to march into the distance to one of his favourite markings, a niente.


The extracts recorded in 'The Ladykillers' CD all accompany scenes devoid of dialogue, so the composer grasps the rare mood-setting opportunities, of which he has written. The success of this may be judged by the vividness with which the screen images are recalled when the music is heard in isolation. In the case of the 'Carnival' from Saraband for Dead Lovers, this is most potent. The chaos, tumult of the revellers, terror and grotesqueries of the scene which it accompanies were, for me, made immediate. Furthermore, shorn of the background clamour of the mob, it was possible to appreciate the subtleties of the scoring, sounds not reproducible from the celluloid itself. There is other music from that film which deserves similar treatment, not least the sonorous passages which are derived from the baroque sequence `Folies d'Espagne'. A recollection of this was to emerge as the main theme of the slow movement of the Concerto for String Orchestra, a distant and unconscious echo of the recently completed film score.

The piano occupied an important place in Rawsthorne's music. It is not surprising, then, that this should feature in his film scores. In both THE CAPTIVE HEART and THE MAN WHO NEVER WAS there are short, and rather tantalising, episodes in which characters in uniform improvise at the piano (always senior ranks, be it noted!). Was Gunner Rawsthorne 1123288, tempted to make a wry and tongue-in-cheek comment on the cliche of the composer in battle dress? He was released from his army 'captivity' on one or two occasions, after civilian colleagues secured leave for him to complete commissions, or to conduct. The term 'tantalising' is used because the piano episodes seem familiar, yet are elusive, like the clear memory a face to which one cannot put a name. The music is in the mould of the pieces which make up the composer's significant contribution to the piano literature. The ruminative and improvisatory passages in Theme and Four Studies, found among the composer's manuscripts after his death, are perhaps the nearest match. The precise date of their composition is not known, but it is fairly certain that they were written in the forties, placing them comparatively close to THE CAPTIVE HEART of 1946. 

The piano was to make the briefest of appearances in the title music written for Lease of Life (1954). Stylistically this episode shares some of the characteristics of the Second Piano Concerto of 1951. The piano part —performed by Irene Kohler — is in the robust bravura style of some of the writing of the concerto, and there is also an echo of the prominent trumpet obbligato which features in the last movement of the same work. These are mere decorations to the two main thematic components, one unique and the other an iteration of the opening theme of the last movement of the Concerto for String Orchestra. The effect is that of a collage and, as an entity, not convincing. Its function as an exposition becomes clear as Rawsthorne makes subtle use of the basic materials in the progress of the drama. This is not amongst the best of his film scores, one in which only eight minutes of original music is used. Rawsthorne was, however, to provide convincing and atmospheric scores for his last two feature films, The Man Who Never Was (1955) and Floods of Fear (1958).


Rawsthorne left very few compositional sketches or evidence of incomplete or abandoned works when he died. The archive of unpublished works leads one to question whether Rawsthorne did dip into a bottom drawer collection of sketches and pieces withheld from publication, to provide material for films. The keyboard player Alan Cuckston, when searching the Rawsthorne Archive for pieces to include in a recording of piano, song and violin music, unearthed, `Pierrette' — Valse Caprice for violin and piano, written in 1934 for Rawsthorne's first wife, Jessie Hinchliffe. It was only after the recording had been made that I became aware that it had been recycled in the score for Uncle Silas, 1947. There it appears, dressed in more adventurous harmonic clothes, to provide music for a ballroom scene. This music is characteristic neither of the music elsewhere in the film nor of his compositional style and language at time the film was made — the year the Concerto for Oboe and Strings was written. Nevertheless it finds a fitting place in the film.


Rawsthorne's earliest and latest film scores were for documentaries. The Rawsthorne Society arranged a showing of two of these for its members at the British Film Institute in May 1996, The Drawings of Leonardo da Vinci (1953) and The Dancing Fleece (1950). Each film runs for approximately twenty minutes with music continuous throughout.


The first is scored for string quartet, flute, trumpet and piano. The date of composition is close to that of the Symphony No.1 — 1950, and has close thematic affinities with the first, slow and last movements of that work. The overall impression of the production was one of immense richness, perhaps over-richness. The images are accompanied by a near continuous narrative by Michael Ayrton, delivered by C. Day Lewis and Laurence Olivier. The effect of this is to detract from the musical perception. Narrative and images would make a satisfying entity without the addition of music.


Hans Keller considered this to be the best of Rawsthorne's film scores when assessing it in 1956, furthermore it was his view that the music was of extreme importance in itself , but absolutely unneccessary to the film. (7)


The unusual and effective combination of instruments is a reminder that Rawsthorne was a composer skilled in the writing for chamber combinations. Music from the 'Leonardo' score was later absorbed into a chamber work for another interesting combination, the Concerto for Ten Instruments of 1961.


The Dancing Fleece, a commercial depicting the production of wool, drew from Rawsthorne a twenty minute ballet score. The eminently danceable music foreshadows the forty minute, one act ballet, Madame Chrysantheme, which was first performed by the Sadler's Wells Ballet in 1955.


The destruction of most of the film music manuscripts is to be deplored; Rawsthorne was not the only composer to fall victim to the wanton despoliation which accompanied the disbandment of Ealing Studios. There is more material which, with time, may be given a public hearing. The brilliant reconstructions by Rawsthorne's pupil and collaborator Gerard Schurmann, and Philip Lane, assure us of the viability of such further projects, and of the guaranteed quality of the results. Further explorations of this material can be wholly justified as worthy of pursuit if we have in mind Hans Keller's critical assurance that "Rawsthorne always wrote music in the first place, and film music, equally conscientiously and clearly, in the second...", and Rawsthorne's belief that "Film music must be genuine music."


Photos


Alan Rawsthorne at his home in Little Sampford, Essex, 28th March 1966. (Photo by Erich Auerbach)

Alan Rawsthorne in uniform, with Muir Mathieson and William Alwyn, at the recording session of Alwyn's music for The True Glory, Scala Theatre, London 1942.


Notes


  1. 'The Celluloid Plays a Tune' from Twenty British Composers ed. Peter Dickinson, Chester, 1975.
  2. The Ladykillers - music from those glorious Ealing Films, Silva Screen Records Ltd FILMCD 177
  3. 'Rawsthorne's Greatest Achievement?', The Creel  VoI.l No.3 Autumn 1990
  4. Alan Rawsthorne; Essays on the Music, Vol. 3, Ed. Alan Poulton, Bravura Publications, Hindhead 1986
  5. Keller/Poulton, op. cit.
  6. Peter Dickinson, op. cit.
  7. See Film Music: Rawsthorne's 'Leonardo' The Musical Times, January 1956


Rawsthorne Film Scores

1930s

Power Unit c. 1937

The City  1939

Cargo for Ardrossan  1939

Shell Film Unit (GB)

GPO Film Unit

Realist Films (GB)

1940s

Street Fighting  1942

Tank Tactics  1942

USA The Land & the People  1945

Burma Victory  1945

Broken Dykes  1945

The Captive Heart  1946

School for Secrets  1946

Uncle Silas  1947

Saraband for Dead Lovers  1948

x - 100  1948

Army Film Unit (MOI)

Army Film Unit (MOI)

War Office

Army Film Unit

Min. of Information

Ealing Studios

Two Cities

Two Cities

Ealing Studios

Shell Mex G

1950s

The Dancing Fleece  1950

Pandora & the Flying Dutchman  1950

The Waters of Time  1951

Where No Vultures Fly  1951

The Cruel Sea  1952

The Drawings of Leonardo da Vinci 1953

West of Zanzibar  1953

Lease of Life  1954

The Man Who Never Was  1955

The Legend of the Good Beasts  1956

Floods of Fear  1958

The Port of London  1959

Crown Film Unit

Romulus Films

Intl. Realist Ltd.

Ealing Studios

Ealing Studios

Leonardo Film C'tee

Ealing Studios

Ealing Studios

Sumar Films

Bear Films (GB)

Rank

Greenpark

1960s

Sweat Without Tears  1960

Messenger of the Mountains  1964

Kuwait Oil Company
Countryman Films

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.
Share by: