Blog Post

An interview with George Antheil

Lawrence Morton

Originally published in Film Music Vol.X / No.2 / 1950
Official Publication of the National Film Music Council © 1950

George Antheil was born in Trenton, New Jersey, on July 8, 1900, the son of a Polish political exile. He studied piano and theory with Constantin von Sternberg (1852-1924), Uselma Clarke Smith, and Arthur Schnable, and composition with Ernest Bloch between 1919 and 1921. Antheil went to Europe in 1921 to pursue a career as a touring concert pianist meeting Stravinsky in Berlin and thereafter moved to Paris in 1923. Early on he earned a reputation as the “enfant terrible” of modern music, composing sonatas, ballets, and symphonic works in an avant-garde style generally characterized by a lack of melody. His most notorious work from this period is Le Ballet mécanique originally conceived for an experimental film in 1924 directed by the French Cubist painter Fernand Léger (1881-1955). He re-scored this work twice for public performances in 1926 and 1927 (New York) for anvils, two octaves of electric bells, motor horns, sixteen player-pianos controlled from a switchboard, and pieces of tin and steel. Antheil said that any music that was not mechanical had reached its doom: “The music of the future would be like an incredibly beautiful machine.” However, his style changed and he began to write music of a “stark simplicity, clarity and emotion.” While overseas on a Guggenheim Scholarship, appointed for creative work in composition, he wrote his second opera Helen Retires (1930) based on John Erskine’s novel The Private Life of Helen of Troy published in 1925. Antheil returned to America in 1933 when the Nazis rose to power and entered Hollywood in 1936. Boris Morros (1891-1963) was influential in hiring him to write the score for Cecil B. De Mille’s The Plainsman. It is reported Antheil travelled 5,000 miles among Indian villages and studied for sixty days in the Congressional Library for that particular score. George Antheil died in New York City February 12, 1959. - Bill Snedden


An interview with George Antheil by Lawrence Morton


Early this year the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation commissioned Lawrence Morton to record in Hollywood fourteen interviews with film composers for subsequent broadcast on the CBC series entitled MUSIC FROM THE FILMS. Morton's interviews had been preceded by a series in which Muir Mathieson had discussed film music with British composers; a new British series is now current, MUSIC FROM THE FILMS is produced by Gerald Pratley (1) in Toronto, and as a year-round program devoted exclusively to film music, it is unique in radio.

The following interview with George Antheil was the eighth in Morton's series. His guests at other times were Constantine Bakaleinikoff, Maurice De Packh, Adolph Deutsch, George Duning, Hugo Friedhofer, Johnny Green, Gail Kubik, Alfred Newman, André Previn, David Raksin, Miklós Rózsa, Franz Waxman, Roy Webb.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My guest tonight is George Antheil, one of those versatile composers who can shuttle back and forth between the concert hall and the film studio with perfect composure, and without losing his sense of direction. He tells me that between film assignments he is working on an opera. It is sometimes considered indiscreet to ask a composer about the piece he is currently working on. Therefore, Mr, Antheil, I won’t ask you anything directly about the opera. But I will suggest that if you feel like giving any clues, hints, or inklings about it, you have a large audience to whisper to. Are there any rumours that you would like to start circulating?

There's nothing secret about the opera, Mr. Morton, It is Ben Jonson's VOLPONE (2). I'm working from the original play, not the adaptation that has been so popular on the American stage.

When you are working simultaneously on opera and film music, Mr. Antheil, do you find yourself leading a kind of Jekyll and Hyde existence? Do you have to keep your operatic right hand ignorant of what your left hand is doing in the studio?

No, not at all. I write all my music with my right hand, whether it's a film score or a symphony. Opera and film music, as a matter of fact, are very closely related, both being in the same category of theater music. They are far less separated from each other than they are from another large category - music for the concert hall. Of course all these categories intertwine, and their techniques and styles are transferable.

Are there any specific film techniques that you can carry over into the field of opera?

Yes, there are several. One is the technique of underscoring. In the old operas the voice and the orchestra always go together, and even when they are musically "counterpointed" they are still, in a dramatic sense, presenting different aspects of the same pattern. This is not so in the films. The characters in a film drama never know what is going to happen to them, but the music always knows. Hence an orchestral commentary is possible, but it can comment on the action without necessarily illustrating it. Film music can go against the voice - that is, against the dialogue - and also against the action. I did this in my early operas, and I was interested to notice that Menotti does it in THE CONSUL (3), which I saw in New York recently. Much of Menotti’s music is underscoring and consequently it sounds a great deal like film music.

One of the most characteristic techniques of film music is the montage where, in perhaps a minute of film, the accumulative action of days or years is reviewed in quick camera shots. Can this technique be used in opera?

Yes, I used it in my opera TRANSATLANTIQUE in 1927. It's more a staging problem than a musical one, however.

Let's shift into reverse here. Can you use operatic techniques in the films - the aria form, for instance?

Well, in opera an aria is most often a way of letting a character express lyrically his feelings about a certain dramatic situation. We do this in films very often. We might write a string melody with an orchestral accompaniment, to be played behind dialogue or a long speech. If there is time enough, the music can take on the actual form of an aria.

Yes, I can see how this is possible in a lyric scene. But what about a highly dramatic one requiring the kind of expressiveness in, say, the "Credo" in OTELLO, or "Vesti la giubba"? (4)

That is also possible for the screen. In a recent score of mine, KNOCK ON ANY DOOR [Columbia Pictures, 1949], there was just this kind of a scene. A boy is standing on a roof, watching on the street below the funeral of his sweetheart who had committed suicide. He can't go to the funeral because he is hiding from the police. The music I wrote for the scene was a kind of aria - an aria of despair and hatred. Of course there was no dialogue here and the sound track was clear. It is in scenes like this that film music functions most effectively, when it is doing something that neither speech nor photography is doing.

What about the recitative technique, where a character sings unaccompanied except for a few strategically placed chords?

Recitative presents the question of where to put the chord. It’s like punctuation. In opera it is used mostly to establish a harmony, but in films it can be used dramatically, to punctuate action as well as speech.

Can you explain why the main title of a film score has not generally taken on the function of the operatic overture?

It really ought to. It should be one place in a film score where strictly musical form dominates. I can't explain why the main title hasn't become more overture-like, but everyone can observe that it has developed into a cliche, with a fanfare for the director, a louder fanfare for the producer, lots of noise. Main titles seem to be telling the audience that every picture is a colossal epic. The most usual exception to the rule is when the main title plugs a love theme, in the hope, I suppose, that the plug might help the tune make the Hit Parade. I wrote a real overture recently, for a film called WE WERE STRANGERS [Columbia Pictures, 1949]. It wasn't acceptable to the front office, and so I had to rewrite it. By now, of course, everybody knows the story of how Aaron Copland's title music for THE HEIRESS [Paramount Pictures 1949] was deleted from his score and replaced by an orchestral version of a little French song that is sung in the film. Copland felt obliged to write a letter to the press disclaiming responsibility for that part of the score.

You just mentioned love themes. Do you have any particular feeling about them?

Indeed I do. They are the bane of the film composer's life. For the most part they are the kind that spells love L-U-V. I'm afraid that audiences and film producers alike have come to believe that that is the only kind of love that exists in the world. Actually it isn't that sickly sweet and sentimental except in the movies. What I consider my best score was written for a film that had no love story and therefore no love music. It was called THAT BRENNAN GIRL [aka TOUGH GIRL Republic Pictures 1946], but I'm afraid not many people heard about It.

When you say you object to "luv themes" do you mean that you are a follower of the so-called "cult of the inexpressive?"

No, not at all. There was a period, say about twenty years ago, when all the leading composers were being non-expressive. And I went right along with them. All of us were in revolt against the ultra-expressiveness of the preceding generation which had brought music to a real orgy of extravagant emotionalism. Now we have achieved a kind of balance. Taste and judgment have been restored as the real criteria of expression.

Can't that same taste and judgment guide you in the writing of film music?

To a certain extent, yes. But it can't help much against the industrial cliches of the "luv theme" and main title. Almost everywhere else it is possible for the composer to write just about as he pleases. At least, that is my experience. Most of my scores are, I believe, what the layman would call "modern". Their modern-ness doesn't seem to be a hindrance to my career in films. And there are passages in those scores that I regard as my very best dramatic music. I mean things like the digging music in WE WERE STRANGERS and some passages in TOKYO JOE [Columbia Pictures 1949].

Do you believe that the "serious" composer can handle cliche situations any better than the "commercial" Hollywood men?

He should be able to, but he doesn't always, I'm sorry to say. Perhaps I shouldn't publicly criticize my colleagues, but I must say that they have disappointed me many times by their failure to find new and better ways of handling cliches. What disappoints me most is that these failures are artistic mistakes, not errors due to lack of the special craft of writing for films. I had a really cliche situation to deal with in a recent score of mine, IN A LONELY PLACE [Columbia Pictures 1950]. There was a series of brutal incidents - an automobile chase ending in a crash, and the crash leading to a fight between the drivers. Originally there was no music, only sound effects in the scene. But I wanted to score it because I felt I could bring something fresh-sounding to it. I prevailed on the producer to let me try it- he could always take the music out if he didn't like it. Eventually the scene had music and no sound effects at all.

Generally, Mr. Antheil, you have been highly critical of Hollywood music, though less so here tonight than in your book. Do you believe film music has a hopeful future?

Indeed I do. The problems of film music are very exciting. The composer is constantly challenged by dramatic situations which, however commonplace they may seem, all have their own peculiar and individual flavor. You have to have a real dramaturgical instinct. And there are purely musical problems too that keep a composer on his toes. Because there are so many short pieces in a film score, you have to find a way to make them stick together. There has to be cohesion just as there is in any other music. The most difficult job of all is to make it sound like music, not sound effects. The very fact that there are problems in film music is what gives one hope for it. If there were no problems the same thing would happen to film music as happened to old-fashioned opera. Opera died because composers had licked all the problems, and the whole form became a cliche. That is why composers today are trying to write operas of a new kind. Shows like SOUTH PACIFIC and operas like THE CONSUL are tremendously important in the search for new operatic techniques. Films are very quick in taking up new trends in the entertainment world. And I believe that out of such trends there will eventually come a way of writing opera directly for the screen - with music in the driver's seat.

That is a hopeful note to end this interview on, Mr. Antheil. Thank you for the time and thought you have given to this discussion. I hope VOLPONE progresses speedily and successfully. And now goodnight to the CBC audience, until next week. This is Lawrence Morton, speaking to you from Hollywood.


Notes


  1. Gerald A. Pratley (1923-2011) longtime champion of the Canadian film industry. His weekly film review broadcasts on CBC Radio’s two networks in Toronto, Trans-Canada and Dominion, included Pratley at the Movies, The Movie Scene and Music From the Films.
  2. Ben Jonson’s play dates to 1606-1609. Volpone in 3-acts (with a libretto by Alfred Perry) was first produced in January 1953 by the Opera Workshop at the University of Southern California, and later opened in New York July 6, 1953 at the Cherry Lane Theatre.
  3. The Italian-American composer and librettist Gian Carlo Menotti (1911-2007) whose opera The Consul dates to 1950 and won the Pulitzer Prize for Music.
  4. Iago’s aria “Credo in un Dio crudel che m’ha creato similea sè e che nell'ira io nomo” [I believe in a cruel God who created me in his image and who in fury I name] in Verdi’s opera Otello, Act II. “Vesti la giubba” [Put on the costume] from the end of the first act of the 1892 opera Pagliacci by Ruggero Leoncavallo.


References


  • His autobiography is titled Bad Boy of Music (Doubleday, Doran & Co., Inc., Garden City, New York, 1945).
  • Oxford Music Online

  • David Ewen (Editor) Composers of Today: A Comprehensive Biographical and Critical Guide to Modern Composers of All Nations (New York: The H.W. Wilson Company, 1934).

  • “What’s Next in Hollywood,” The Motion Picture and the Family, February 15, 1937, 2.


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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