Aurore's Mad Scene

So, this weekend, I was incredibly inspired to write Aurore a coloratura solo. It could very easily be the only time her voice is heard on stage, as she spends most of the action coming up with many plots to commit suicide that don't involve much verbal action. As a result, I want this to be monumentally awesome, especially since it has to, quite literally, end explosively. I will set the scene now, and follow that with the text I've written.

So, throughout the show, Aurore hears these voices telling her to commit suicide, as her illegitimate lover has (in no uncertain terms) deplorable character, and the only way to escape him is through death. The voices, of course, make no mention of her husband, who is quite happily married to her (even if she doesn't return the sentiment.)

She takes the voices' advice and attempts suicide several times, inventing Rube Goldberg suicide machines, each more absurd than the last. On her third and final attempt, she creates a fool-proof plan: the gas stove is running while a Malotov cocktail slowly burns down; she is standing on a chair with a noose around her neck so that, should this fail, she can always hang herself; she is also holding a bottle of pills and a glass of water to protect against that; and, should her husband ever open the kitchen door to see what she is doing, she has a shotgun rigged pointing at her face that will fire when it opens. Of course, this all fails epically: when her husband makes for the doorknob, she puts all of the pills in her mouth, and upon his opening, the shotgun fires through the noose above her head, and she loses her balance and falls, spitting out all of the pills, shutting the oven door, and dumping water on the Malotov cocktail. (I realize this may have been hard to understand, but fortunately, you can watch the whole scene here)

The song commences when Georges (her husband) sees her sitting on the floor and asks her how she's feeling, and she commences into this song about singing to birds (the birds representing the voices in her head telling her to commit suicide):

The birds in the trees sing a song of love
I hear them calling in the month of May
Their voices like angels from up above
Can brighten the very most gloomy day

They're calling out to me: "Cuckoo! Cuckoo!"
My heart, growing wings, turns aflutter
I'm moved to return their fond "Cuckoo!"
And these are the words that I say:

I tell them "Tra la la, tra la la, hey, little birds
Can you hear the song that I sing?
Tra la la, tra la la!" Those are the words
That cause them to take wing.

But one little bird stays behind
To bid me a fond farewell
He sits on my shoulder, just to be kind
Or perhaps out of spite; I can't tell.

But this little bird, he tells me
To come and fly away
That the heavens will set me free
And then he starts to say a lovely

"Tra la la, tra la la, come, Aurore!
The world is much better when you're up in the air
Tra la la, tra la la, life could be so much more
To live without a care."

("ah" vocalization interlude, gaining momentum until just before the big cadence, sudden fermata on the dominant)

But the bird flew away
Yet I wish he would stay
I begin to pray
And the words that I say are

"Tra la la, tra la la, hey little bird,
Pleas return to your dearest love
Tra la la, tra la la, I hope you heard me
So far up above."

("ah vocalization, gaining in momentum before huge cadenza over dominant, with a fermata on the highest dominant chord member she can sing, at which point the room explodes)

***

Let me know what you think!

Choose one, and only one

So, I've been absent for a while, and for that I apologize. There are plenty of reasons, but let's just hope none of them happen again.

I've got the overture pretty much entirely written in my head, and I think it sounds pretty cool. Notating pretty much anything is a time-consuming process, though, and I've been distracted with lots of other scenes I'm growing interested in. Long story short, I've got it sketched out and will hopefully return to it soon.

I have this dream for Delicatessen that all of the characters on stage will also play instruments, but it's starting to get challenging. You see, I really want to focus on the instrumental music to convey emotion, similar to the beautiful way Jeunet and Caro use silence in the movie; I've got several "ballet" scenes (really just meaning people doing motions to the music) planned in my head, such as the date between Julie and Louison or any of Aurore's suicides. I think the music in these scenes will be much more effective than a song where the character lays out their emotions clearly in verbal form; also, this way, the audience can derive meanings for themselves, which I think is one of the fantastic things about the movie--it dares you to find motivation for the characters through silence, and so you feel more engaged with them.

I have also been inspired in the other direction, however, by arias from operas. The first of these is the Preghiera from Maria Stuarda. This melody is just breathtaking, and Mariella Devia's voice in this video is just impeccable. I can truly see Julie singing something like this, though much lighter in texture; I can also see Madame Plusse having a similar scene, as part of my plan to really heighten the audience's sympathy for her. I can also imagine Aurore having a mad scene with a coloratura solo, in the style of Offenbach's Les Oiseaux dans la Charmille or Bernstein's Glitter and be Gay after her third failed attempt at suicide, where she tries to convince herself (and everyone else) that she is feeling wonderful. This, of course, could end hilariously tragically with her room blowing up anyway once she actually calms down.

But this causes a great deal of debate in my head: I'd love for all of the on-stage actors to play all of the instruments to support the show, and feel like it could be a wonderful effect. However, I worry that the demand placed on the singers (especially the three sopranos I just mentioned, who will probably end up being the center of the show) will be too high for them to also play such equally demanding repertoire on their instruments. I feel like I have to decide which is more important to me: acting, singing, or playing instruments. All three are incredibly important, but I know I'll never have all three. Not without millions of dollars to pour into this, at least.

Act I, Scene I, is done! (in concept!)

So, I've been pondering over Act I, Scene 1. It's really important to me that I make a good first impression to the audience musically, and remain true to the movie as well.

However, this also involved a little more thought into the background of the staging and actors. What I'm thinking is having six square rooms set up like a 2-story dollhouse on stage; this way, we can have six apartments for the characters to live in. It will look something like this incredibly detailed sketch.

In any case, The lights will only be up in Louison's apartment (at this time in the show, the apartment is not Louison's, since he has not yet been introduced), and in the Delicatessen. An unnamed actor (probably one of the folks who will eventually play a Troglodiste) will be dressing in trash in that room while Clapet sharpens his knives. Musically, there will be a low drone and slow, quiet, menacing statements of Clapet's leitmotif, slowly combining with the "scheme" leitmotif because of the trash dresser's scheme. Eventually, the "fate" leitmotif will begin playing, and intensity builds as the escapist jumps in the trash can and the trash truck comes up. The scene can play out exactly as in the movie, except this time we'll be seeing it from the outside. Clapet throws his cigarette into the trash can and hears the "ow!", which causes him to carry the trash can back inside and pick up his cleaver. When he swings his cleaver into the trash can, the lights go out and the escapist screams.

The lights come up in the outer rooms, where the other actors will be situated with instruments playing a piece in ironic contrast to the previous scene: probably a nostalgic musette which introduces the leitmotifs of Louison and Julie, foreshadowing a Love Duet. This should probably be brief, as overtures tend to bore modern audiences, so I'm thinking a standard ABA' form or something along those lines, which is not uncommon for musettes anyway. The B section may introduce the other characters and their interactions, especially including Aurore and the Troglodistes.

As for what else I'm going to work on, I think what I want to do next is decide where to end Act I and work on a big finale for it. I'm sure there's a perfect scene to do it in, so I'm just going to review my notes. I'm imagining a big ensemble number, though it also occurs to me that I could just do something fantastic with the first appearance of the Troglodistes to leave the audience excited for when everything goes sour.

Thank you all for reading, again. I'm sorry if this got overly musical and esoteric, but I'd still love your input!

And I have a Leitmotif!

So, after pondering further and further on the point of quoting Dies Irae, I think I've got a great way to start the show in a way parallel to the movie. The first scene of the movie is rather vague and dark, establishing the evil that is Clapet. It features him sharpening a knife while an unnamed character in another room dresses himself in trash and hops in the trash can.

Now, establishing this musically can be an interesting thing. The silence of the movie is beautiful--eerie, off-putting, and full of anxiety. So I don't know if it would be distasteful of me to adulterate the silence. However, my goal is to portray the story musically, and I was thinking I could establish Clapet's power by giving him a piano solo on stage while the character dressing in trash monologues about fate.

This gave me a wonderful idea of having all of the actors play instruments respective of their personalities on-stage. It would be fantastic. I mean, Julie already plays the cello in the movie, and Louison the musical saw. I could really bring out the characters through their instruments--I imagine Aurore playing clarinet, her husband Georges on the accordion, and for some reason I think Plusse should play something sophisticated, like the harp. I really think there's a depth of character to Plusse I could really play with.

But as for the opening scene, what I'm thinking is opening with the Dies Irae quote as a big flourish on the piano as if to say "I am Clapet, and I am in charge of this music!" and then going straight into a combination of two leitmotifs I have in mind--a descending chromatic scale representing fate, and another churning, engine-like sound to represent Clapet's scheming. The two come to a head when the trash can workers throw a cigarette into the trash can (in the movie, it's Clapet who does so, but he won't be able to do so on stage when he's playing the piano) and the unnamed character says "ow!" The trash can workers then bring the trash can into Clapet, who suddenly stops the music, picks up a meat cleaver and walks over to the trash can in silence. The lights suddenly go black, and Unnamed Man screams. This is followed by all the lights coming up on stage, and all of the actors start playing a joyous, quirky Musette, highlighting all of their leitmotifs, and I think I'd like to end it with a good ol' fashioned Rossini crescendo à la Candide.

Technology Fails Me

The compositional process is different for everyone, but it is a basic fact that every person needs a compositional vessel. When I am at school, this vessel is most frequently the keyboard in my bedroom, at which I hand-sketch notes on looseleaf staff paper. If I'm feeling particularly ambitious, I go to a practice room and use a real piano--there's still nothing as wonderful as sitting down at a real piano to play my own music. However, when I am at home, as we do not have any kind of keyboard instrument, I am left with notation software.

Now there's nothing inherently wrong with notation software--it does a wonderful job of notating what you've written, and has been swiftly increasing in playback quality. But I can tell you from personal experience in writing my Canto III that notation software always obscures what real sounds will be, and can be incredibly discouraging to use--that which sounds beautiful suddenly sounds cheesy, and that which is dissonant suddenly sounds ugly.

That being said, I have no real issue with using notation software to copy down the music running through my head, as I have had enough musical training that I can copy it down easily without having to hear it at all, thus negating the need for auditory confirmation.

This is all thrown down the proverbial toilet, however, when your laptop's keyboard starts acting up. If you've seen me on Twitter or Dailybooth, you know I've been having issues with my F key constantly signaling (The only reason that it's not occurring now is that I have the opportunity, now that my brother is at school, to use the illustrious Family Computer to check the internet. The Family Computer, however, has no option I can readily transfer for notation software, so I am again at a loss!)

This constant F signaling doesn't seem like it should be an issue--after all, in notation software, what need is there for text? Well, F is a note on the keyboard, and subsequently, F is a hotkey to insert a note on F in the notation software. So unless I suddenly become extra minimalist and want my entire musical to be everyone singing unison F's for two hours straight, I will have to change course.

The fortunate thing is that I have a hand-written notebook of ideas that I can play with, themes to bring out, scenes to imagine, and concepts to develop without having a note of music written. I can sketch out certain musical motives in the margins--nothing long or complicated--so that the foundation will be ready.

So, essentially, this is one long excuse for having made very little progress in the last few days. Hopefully there won't be many of these! Thanks for reading this if you've just found me. It's looking like it's going to be a very good year, and I hope to share it with all of you!

The Dies Irae Conundrum

So, the new year has begun, and thus has the official project!

Not knowing where to start in writing the music, I've chosen a few themes and characters of the movie to focus on and their possible leitmotifs (tunes associated with characters or ideas.)

And I'm already stuck with somewhat of an issue.

You see, the butcher Clapet will be easy enough to play off as the classic representative of Satan or Death itself. No problem. Have him played by a lustful, fat baritone, and the audience will know precisely what is going on. But when it comes to leitmotifs, there are so many ways to do that wrong.

I feel like, as a representative of the devil, it would be easy enough to have his leitmotif be a quote from the Dies Irae plainchant--it's enough of a tradition in the Classical world to do so. However, this is also the most hackneyed tradition there is! Rachmaninoff loved it, Berlioz has used his fair share of it, and it's even bled over into the Broadway scene--with my arch-nemesis Sweeney Todd, no less. The ever-so-famous Ballad of Sweeney Todd has the quote in the chorus: "Swing your razor wide, Sweeney, hold it to the sky!"

Clearly, this is the entirely wrong course of action if I want to distinguish myself from such a great musical rather than living in its shadow.

But the other day it occurred to me: I don't have to quote the plainchant. I can quote a different setting of it that those who have heard it will know, and those who haven't heard it will still feel the emotional impact.

And with my musical research showing that French cabaret music seems to have a fixation on rising and falling chromatic scales, I know just the setting to quote.

That's right. I'm going with Verdi's Requiem. Nobody's going to think Clapet is some fat clown with a knife. Oh, no. When you've got Verdi's Dies Irae punching the audience in the gut, he will scare the living daylights out of them. And that makes it just perfect.

A little more

So, I realize I left some information out of the last post. That was somewhat on purpose. I wanted to save something to type about later. It's also really hard for me to make the next leap of faith in this blog: giving away the subject of my musical.

I'm really afraid that someone's going to steal my idea. It's irrational, I know. And I also know that whatever musical I write will probably be unsuccessful if it's mine, and fate will spite me by making it terribly successful when someone else takes my work.

But I have to do it. I have to say it. I have to trust that the people here are going to be supportive rather than destructive.

But, now that I've beaten around the bush, the time is come.

My musical is based on the cult classic film Delicatessen. If you haven't seen it, I strongly suggest that you do. It's one of my very favorites.

The plot of the movie is hard to explain without it sounding like Sweeney Todd; it will be even harder to explain how I plan on approaching it without it sounding like, well, Sweeney Todd. But try I shall.

The movie is set in a post-apocalyptic Paris, were the Apocalypse to have happened in the 50's. They don't entirely say what the catastrophe was, but it's not entirely important. The effects are obvious; all of the world's meat sources have died, and the only food left to eat is lentils and corn, which have become the currency used.

All of the action of the movie occurs in one apartment, which has some very interesting and colorful tenants. However, the apartment also houses a dark secret: the butcher who runs it hires a handyman every week in the hopes of fattening him up and killing him for meat.

The handyman hired, however, is an ex-clown named Louison and the butcher's (Clapet's) daughter Julie falls in love with him. She tries her hardest to save him and turns to the underground vegetarian society known as the Troglodistes to stop Clapet's dastardly plan.

The main point of the movie, however, is exploring the interaction of the zany characters, who all act very different in the desperation of the time. Aurore, for example, hears voices in her head telling her to commit suicide, so she invents many Rube Goldberg machines to try and do so, all of which end up failing. The Tapiocas, a family of five, scrounge around for various supplies to sell or eat. An unnamed old man simply lets his apartment overrun with water and keeps a farm of frogs and snails to eat. A pair of brothers continue making silly inventions just to pass the time, trying not to think about how little they have to eat. And finally Madame Plusse seduces Clapet so that she doesn't have to worry about providing herself with food.

I've got some ideas for themes to bring out, but I'm not quite sure what order to do so. I think I'm going to start with leitmotifs (songs associated with characters) and see how I can string them together to try and come up with numbers. I guess we'll see how this goes over the next few weeks. If you have any suggestions, feel free to leave me a comment!