Picture playing does not consist, as some suppose, in fitting song titles to the action of the picture.... Proper accompaniments for pictures are those which reflect their peculiar atmosphere, their tone of sadness or joy or their dramatic movement. Anything short of this is just quack.Here, the author argues explicitly against song-title approach accompaniment, which though it had been under attack for years evidently remained a prevalent practice. Instead the author advocated playing for the general mood, which is the approach that would be adopted by most orchestras.
The pianist who aspires to be an artist at accompanying pictures will surround each picture with a musical atmosphere of its own. He will think of the general trend of the story, its manner of starting off and ending and its climax. He will notice who the leading actors are in the cast, for by this he may judge somewhat of the intensity of the performance. If the picture is serious drama and is done by the best stars he may need one or two of what might be called his reserve pieces, pieces of considerable difficulty carrying the utmost emotional appeal.
What are some of the pieces? One of the strongest pieces emotionally that I know of is [Franz] Liszt’s third Liebestraum. The first two pages are quiet and serene with an extremely simple melody, yet though simple it has a depth and strength such as can be found only in great music. For those of slight technical ability these first two pages alone should be invaluable. A cadenza follows and then the same strain is taken in the key of B, after which it modulates in E, where the whole piano seems to be brought into action. The finale is soft and tender.
It would be folly to bring out a piece of this description for the ordinary run of pictures. There are sometimes pictures, however, which in character of plot and production show the artistic finish of a poem. Such a one was “The Painted Lady.” Miss Sweet’s acting in the role of the mad girl deserved a musician’s best efforts. How to respond to her loneliness, her first glimmerings of love, her despair at finding she had shot her lover, and her sweet but insane sorrow! Nothing like rag time now, nothing that is the “latest out”; the music must mirror deep emotion. For this we have [Giacomo] Puccini’s “Madame Butterfly” and his “La Boheme,” the Liebesträume (three of the them), by Liszt, also his Consolation and such well-known songs as [Guy] D’Hardelot’s “Because,” [James Carroll] Bartlett’s “A Dream,” [John W.] Metcalf’s “Absent,” Roger’s [James Hotchkiss Rogers] “At Parting,” [Edvard] Grieg’s “Ich Liebe Dich” and [Ethelbert] Nevin’s “Rosary.” These last should be paraphrased to get the best piano effects.
The great need to-day is far more seriousness on the musical side. The picture companies do not hesitate—heavy dramatic subjects are coming out all the time and the public does not weary of them either, only the whole thing lacks artistic success because of crude music. Wrong ideas have contributed to bring about the present condition. Picture playing does not consist, as some suppose, in fitting song titles to the action of the picture. This is not exactly a bad thing in itself, but it amounts to no more in picture playing than tooting the whistle does in running an engine. Proper accompaniments for pictures are those which reflect their peculiar atmosphere, their tone of sadness or joy or their dramatic movement. Anything short of this is just quack.
All is impossible, however, without the proper music, so the buying of music becomes a very important matter. The pianist should select his music with special purposes in view. He will pick out “The Dance of the Hours” (Gioconda [by Amilcare Ponchielli]) for light gay action in say a society drama; “Valse Triste” ([Jean] Sibelius) will serve for dark, sombre effects; “Heart’s Ease” (MacBeth) for any romance; “Pomp and Circumstance March” ([Edward] Elgar) for those splendid pageants in Pathe Weekly; “Nita Gitana” ([Reginald] De Koven) for Mexican love scenes; “Gondoliera” ([Moritz] Moskowski) for boat scenes; “Autumn” ([Cécile] Chaminade) for any simple sadness; “Summer” (Chaminade) for freshness and life.
Recently the Russian Symphony Orchestra did this entire industry an honor by accompanying the Pilgrim’s Progress pictures with a special program prepared by the conductor. Some day, perhaps, one of our great pianists will favor us in a similar manner. In the meantime every exhibitor can help things along by keeping the piano well-tuned. Those who have really seen the light will shelf the old upright and put in a modern grand.
Kenneth Aiken, “Thoughts for the Pianist,” Moving Picture World 1 February 1913, 470.
