Showing posts with label parallel editing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parallel editing. Show all posts

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Advertising Music and Playing Parallel Editing

Martin begins this week's column with a suggestion to use music as part of advertising the theater. He includes a sample ad for his home theater in Keokuk, Iowa. Perhaps in response to Sinn's column the previous week, Martin then turns to the issue of playing to scenes with parallel editing, a common difficulty for musicians of the time. The basic question was: when scenes alternate, should the players change music to reflect the change in scenes or should they maintain the same musical number so as to avoid abrupt shifts in music. Finally, Martin ends this week's column with brief paragraphs on using popular songs as accompaniments and on whether music should be played between shows.
When you take in consideration the number of people that come to your theatre to hear the music as well as to see the pictures, you will agree with me when I suggest advertising your musical part of the program as strong as you do the pictures. Of course, there are things to be considered: if you have run over a certain reel and find it to be a poor production you would not think of using any printers' ink on advertising the same. On the other hand, if you have some good feature picture that will get you the money by using a few inches in the local papers, you will take a chance and boost that certain picture. It is the same thing with your music, if your musicians are making good with your patrons, they are as much of a drawing card as the pictures and should have their share of publicity.

Advertising is the life of any business if used to the best advantage, but poor advertising is worse that none at all and only proves a detriment to your business. If you have good musicians, people who are playing the pictures boost them the same as you do your pictures and you will soon find it will mean money in your pocket, for as soon as you start advertising your musicians, the patrons will give more attention to their work, and when your patrons awake to the fact that the musicians are playing the pictures, you will find that you have a permanent drawing card.

The advertising copy on this page is an example of the way the Dodge theatre company, of Keokuk, Iowa, boost their musicians, and I believe their method of advertising in the local papers has gone far towards building up the capacity business that continues throughout the entire summer and winter season.

It is true that different conditions prevail in different towns, and possibly it would be money lost to advertise a picture show in some localities; nevertheless, if you have never tried this method, a few weeks' advertising in your local papers would be an inexpensive experiment and might prove to be the upbuilding of your business.

You will find that the advertising will help you in more ways than one, for if the musicians see that you are boosting their work and featuring the music they will work harder towards playing the pictures.

During the past week I have received a great many letters from musicians and the suggestions and inquiries have been a great help to me as they have brought up many points that often arise in playing the pictures. I think the most important question was in regard to a scene in the Pathe production of "Abraham Lincoln's Clemency," the piano player called my attention to the scene where there is a battle raging in the background and to the front of the picture is the hero who has been mortally wounded. The question was, "Should you continue loud heavy music in keeping with the battle, or soft pathetic music for the death of the hero?" This is a situation that often arises, you will find such double scenes in many pictures, and as a rule I would suggest that you keep your music in touch with the central figure or attraction, but in this particular scene I would suggest that you have the drummer carry out the scene of battle by a roll on the base [sic] drum throughout the entire scene, and the piano player play appropriate music for the death of the hero, by doing this I believe it will be as near correct as the scene can be worked out, and I think the contrast in the music should make a very pleasing effect.

Since this scene has been suggested to me I recall a similar scene in the Kalem picture "The Touch of a Child's Hand." In this picture you will remember the scene where the insane father is shown on the porch with a knife in his hand, the audience is in suspense as to whether he is to kill the rich man or the child of the rich man, and the scene shifts several times, first showing the insane man on the porch then showing the interior of the rich man's home. As the scene changes so quickly and often, I would suggest that you keep up the creepy music through the entire scene. The creepy music in this particular picture and scene not only suggests the insane man's intentions when he is shown on the porch, but when the interior of the rich man's home is shown it suggests the danger that is about to befall the rich man or his child, and as they are unaware of the oncoming danger the music makes a great contrast to the scene.

The Kalem release of November 25 "The Roses of the Virgin" is a good example where popular selections can be used to good advantage. In the scene where Pierre's mother takes the roses from the garden it would be very appropriate and pleasing to play "The Garden of Roses," or "Just Like the Rose." Then at the close of the picture where the mother appears before the shrine you will find it will help the scene by playing "The Rosary" until the close of the picture.

In another letter I received last week I was asked to suggest some good music to play between the shows. This question is easily answered. I do not believe in playing between the shows. As a rule the intermission is very short, you will seldom find a wait of over six or eight minutes, during this short time the people are passing in and out and there is usually so much confusion and noise that I hardly believe music would be appreciated. I believe if you will take a rest during the intermission the audience will appreciate your work a great deal more when you start playing the pictures. In next week's article I will devote most of my space to answering the numerous questions I have received In the last couple of weeks.
Source: Clyde Martin, “Playing the Pictures,” Film Index 24 December 1910, 28.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Working-Up a Picture

In this column, Sinn outlines a method for "working-up" a picture. This method involves identifying "the predominant theme of a picture and work to that." The idea is to make distinctions between what aspects of the film are essential to the articulation of this theme and those that are merely incidental to it. Music, Sinn argues, should focus attention on what is essential, allowing the merely incidental to fade into the background. More and more, the filmmakers will follow the same strategy with the image, shooting, framing, blocking and editing their subjects so foreground and background levels are always clearly distinguished and that these levels represent (and reproduce) a narrative hierarchy. (Continuity editing is one means film makers develop at this time to articulate the narrative hierarchy that carries the theme.)

Toward the end of the article, Sinn comments on parallel editing, which was a problem for the musicians precisely because the hierarchy was not obvious in the image but had to be extracted from the larger narrative. Parallel editing thus required musicians to subordinate the lines in parallel editing to some larger idea (usually, but not always, meaning that the action in one line was subordinated to that in another).

A dozen different pictures may represent a dozen different methods of working up. One may have a theme or motif which is constantly recurring throughout the picture, while in the next the musical numbers follow consecutively like a string of beads; any of the sensational melodramas work out in this manner—a march, a "hurry" and a plaintive; a waltz, a plaintive and a "hurry" make up the greater part of these. There is a reason, but we will take that up later. Pathe's "Isis" is well described by a single number (like Lorraine's "Salome") running straight through and interrupted only by the dance (for which use "Zallah," by the same composer). A stop may also be made for the harp solos if this effect is imitated.

Some pictures (like "Mr. Four-Flush") may have one "fill-in" running through while each description is of a different character; again, others may require a single descriptive theme while the "fill-ins" vary. In fact, nearly every picture which displays originality is apt to present a new problem which makes it difficult if not impossible, to formulate a set of rules governing all cases. As I said before, one must fix on the predominant theme of a picture and work to that. This theme always centers in the principal characters of the play. For example, suppose we have a love story laid in the time of the American Revolution and the principal character is a girl; the story is all woven around her—the things she does and the things that are done for her and because of her, form the plot of the play. Whenever she appears she is the center of attraction to the audience (and must also be so to you), and in these scenes the other characters are valuable only to the degree in which they affect her. Of course, when he is out of the picture, any character or incident holding the attention at the time is the dominant part. A General enters with a staff of officers. (Martial music.) An Indian messenger comes on, or a few Indians gather in the background. This does not necessarily mean Indian music unless they are to take an important part in the action. Otherwise they are simply accessories—pieces of stage furniture—and the General is the focal point of attention. In other words, you should not withdraw the observers' attention from the important parts of the story or direct it to the unimportant parts. But whenever an element enters which has a bearing on the story, cater to that if you can. Sound effects are often given which are directly opposite in character to the descriptive music, and yet enhance the value of the picture. The heroine is in the foreground weeping—the passing army in the background. Pathetic music for her, soft drum taps for the marching soldiers. A single soldier passing would not be of sufficient importance to direct the attention to him. A minor character be he soldier, Chinaman, Indian, or anything else is ignored unless he has a direct bearing on the scene.

Permit me to digress a moment to speak of Indian music. The question has been raised as to whether an Indian “tom-tom” should accompany all Indian music. I believe it should in most case, but always softly unless otherwise called for. The instruments in a picture-show orchestra are used for two-fold purposes, viz.,: to provide music and furnish sound effects. When he is imitating some instrument of a like nature, the player is producing a sound effect, and his instrument should then be made accordingly conspicuous, but only then the Indian music is descriptive and the “tom-tom” adds greatly to its suggestive character, but discretion must be shown in this as in all other things. It might be left out of a love scene (Indian). In the case of the “sleeping Indian village,” referred to in a previous issue it seems to me that if such a scene suggested perfect quiet, the “tom-tom” would be entirely out of keeping. Query: Was Indian music really essential to the scene? In a recent release, “His Sergeant’s Stripes,” Indians play an important part, yet the dominant note in the picture is the soldier’s devotion to duty and centers about the dispatches he carries. Instead of accentuating the Indians’ presence with Indian music, work up the motive with something of a mysterious and threatening character. To exemplify further the difference between “sound effect” and descriptive music: Suppose the orchestra (or piano) is playing pathetic or other music incidental to the scene—this is descriptive and merely accessory to the picture. A character enters the picture, seats himself at a piano and runs his fingers over the keys, the pianist in the orchestra imitating him. This is a “sound effect” and is a part of the picture. The difference, between the “accessory” and the “sound effect” can be made apparent enough if the musician uses judgment. The same thing applies to other instruments in the orchestra if there be others. And here let me digress again to say that I hope the time will soon be here when it will be the rule rather than the exception for moving picture orchestras to be composed of enough instruments to describe ordinary pictures. Imagine the “Swan Song” or “The Violin Maker of Cremona” without the violin sound effects. Nearly every battle scene (and they are common enough) needs trumpet calls. W. E. King's orchestra (Orpheum Theater, Chicago) not only has a sufficient number for ordinary effects, but the management has provided a mandolin attachment for the piano, permitting of imitations of mandolin, harp, guitar, etc., and a reed organ which is useful not only for organ effects, but gives us also the hand-organ, accordion, mouth-organ and bagpipes, besides being frequently used in pathetic and religious scenes as accessory music when no instrument appears in the picture. But to return to the subject in hand.

Some pictures are shown in which the scenes alternate so rapidly as to make it impractical to change music with every change of scene. For example: A mother watching her dying child in one and the desperate father about to commit a burglary in the other. Ordinarily, the first scene suggests a plaintive and the second a pizzicato or mysterious, but here there is time to play but a few bars of each, not enough to develop the scene, and the effect of such skipping about would be absurd. Here comes the “principal motive” again. The father is turning burglar for the sake of the child. The child dominates both scenes. Therefore your pathetic runs straight through until a scene occurs which is long enough to permit a change of music if such be necessary. Again: We have a ballroom filled with dancers; you are playing a waltz. The heroine comes down to center or one side, her attitude suggestive of grief. A pathetic might seem logical at first glance. She is the dominant figure, the dancers merely accessory; but in this case they are equally prominent. She is in the ballroom, she hears the music and sees the dancers. Keep your waltz up, but subdue it, for it must partake of the nature of a “sound effect” as well as a descriptive. In this case a soft, slow waltz will answer for both. Should the dancers stop or retire, leaving her the stage center, a change in the music is permissible. Should your scene be outside of the ballroom yet in hearing of the music, your dance music is played softly—as a “sound effect”—until the scene grows sufficient in intensity to obliterate the ballroom from the mind's of the audience. Then work up to the scene.

Understand these are only hints and must not be understood to be ironclad rules. I am using these illustrations to induce you to look for the core of the picture and not the surface alone.

Source: Clarence Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” MPW 10 December 1910, 1345.