“Rocks in my Pockets” (the Animation movie directed by Signe Baumane and scored by Your Truly) is running for 3 nominations: Best Foreign Movie (Latvia), Best Soundtrack and now Best Animated Feature Film.
The other contenders are BIG NAMES in the Animation industry ( WB, Disney, Dreamworks), we strongly hope to see in nomination some Traditional Animation movies too .
“Rocks in my Pockets” could be a great choice!
Twenty features have been submitted for consideration in the Animated Feature Film category for the 87th Academy Awards.
The submitted features, listed in alphabetical order, are: “Big Hero 6” “The Book of Life” “The Boxtrolls” “Cheatin’” “Giovanni’s Island” “Henry & Me” “The Hero of Color City” “How to Train Your Dragon 2” “Jack and the Cuckoo-Clock Heart” “Legends of Oz: Dorothy’s Return” “The Lego Movie” “Minuscule – Valley of the Lost Ants” “Mr. Peabody & Sherman” “Penguins of Madagascar” “The Pirate Fairy” “Planes: Fire & Rescue” “Rio 2” “Rocks in My Pockets” “Song of the Sea” “The Tale of the Princess Kaguya”
At least eight eligible animated features must be theatrically released in Los Angeles County within the calendar year for this category to be activated.
Films submitted in the Animated Feature Film category also may qualify for Academy Awards in other categories, including Best Picture, provided they meet the requirements for those categories.
The 87th Academy Awards nominations will be announced live on Thursday, January 15, 2015, at 5:30 a.m. PT in the Academy’s Samuel Goldwyn Theater. The Oscars will be held on Sunday, February 22, 2015, at the Dolby Theatre at Hollywood & Highland Center in Hollywood, and will be televised live by the ABC Television Network. The Oscar presentation also will be televised live in more than 225 countries and territories worldwide.
The following is a guest post, presented by ASCAP Composer Spotlight, by Alex Steyermark, the director of The 78 Project, Losers Take All, One Last Thing and Prey For Rock & Roll. Steyermark has also worked as a music supervisor and music producer for such people as Ang Lee and Spike Lee, and is a member of the Columbia University Faculty, running the ASCAP/Columbia University Film Scoring Workshop.
Dogme Manifesto and current filmmaking trends notwithstanding, if you’ve decided that music is something you want for your film, and you’re at that point in your production where your musical needs are becoming clear, then you have two choices: license pre-existing music or get someone to write original music for your film. The first option requires some knowledge of copyright, licensing issues, industry contacts, money, time, and is scary as hell. The second option is mostly just scary as hell.
But not insurmountable. Remember your first experience directing actors? Presumably you got through it, and you’ve got persuasive performances to show for it. Remember your first time sitting down with your d.p., and trying to explain all the complicated ideas and feelings you had in mind for your film? Presumably, your film looks and feels amazing as a result of all that conversation and planning. You can get a great score for your film, and you can get one within your budget. But you do need to find the right person.
The first thing I tell other filmmakers is to think of choosing your composer as casting one of your lead roles. That person has to be right for the part. How do you know? It helps to start by first doing your homework. Load a bunch of different music into your Avid or Final Cut Pro system (that’s the easy part), and start laying it up against your picture. Get a sense of what feels right and of what doesn’t work. This seems painfully obvious, but I’ve had many a conversation with filmmakers who say they like this or that band, or this or that composer, and when I ask if they’ve actually tried their music against picture the answer is, “Well, not yet… but I have all their CDs, and I think they’d be awesome.” Maybe they would be. But music takes on an entirely different character when placed against picture. That’s what’s indescribably magical about it, and that’s what’s incredibly infuriating as well.
Be experimental. Try music that isn’t obvious. Maybe a teenager is dying in your film. Instead of sad, sweet music, try something light and upbeat to suggest optimism and hope; if poignant is what you’re going for, conflicting emotions in the audience will produce the stronger effect. That’s what the composer Anton Sanko did for my film, One Last Thing…, and I liked the way that worked. Another example: when I was working on the music for the Jim Sheridan film, The Boxer, there was a scene where several young boys start a fire which ends up being an event that erupts into a riot. Instead of tense, pulsating action music, we created score that was lyrical and majestic, with a children’s choir singing over it. It became an elegy, and the scene played as tragic. Which it became clear that it was. In other words, your music should add something to the conversation, not underline what’s already there.
Listen to all kinds of music. You wouldn’t start looking for DPs without watching at a wide range of movies and deciding what kind of visual styles resonate with you. You should do the same with music. And I don’t mean put on some music while you write emails or cook dinner. I mean put everything else aside for a few hours and surround yourself with the music. Really listen. What is that instrument that I like? (Read the liner notes). I really like that melody and not that one; how would I describe why to someone else? This mix sounds right for my film, that one doesn’t. If you’re not a musician or musically literate yourself (and more often than not, that is the case), put together a basic working vocabulary of instruments and artists and genres and ways of describing your feelings about music.
Be realistic. Unfortunately, most films (studio and indies alike) treat music as a budgetary afterthought. I believe that a minimum of 5-10% of a film’s budget should be set aside for music. But whether you have $500,000, or $5,000, or $500 set aside for music, understand that music usually does have fixed costs. Musicians like to get paid, or at least get taxi fare to haul their instruments. Recording engineers like to get paid. Even if a composer has their own home studio (most do), their materials cost money.
Also, your music should be appropriate to the scale of your film. If you’ve shot a film on a shoestring budget with DSLRs in your apartment, a full-blown orchestral score just might seem silly. And while it’s gotten to the point where most synthesizers have great natural instrument sounds that are really convincing, do you really want your film to sound like the big budget Hollywood something it’s not?
Think of innovative ways of giving your film a unique musical voice. Maybe your score could feature a musical saw (that’s what my friend Stephen Trask did to great effect for Tom McCarthy’s The Station Agent). That distinctive voice is what will add the most to your score and help your film make the greatest impact.
Get the conversation started. Once you’ve made contact with a few composers, let them see your film. Set up a meeting over coffee to talk about ideas, ask the composer to bring along some other music samples that they think might be appropriate for your film. And remember this: you think you’re nervous about handing your baby over to a total stranger? This person really wants to write music for your film, and is nervous about whether or not you’re going to like their still nascent ideas, not to mention their entire body of work. And film and music feel like two entirely different languages, so you’re both going to have to work to find common ground.
It’s also really important to keep in mind that the composer is usually going to be the first audience for your film, so be prepared to hear feedback and insights that may come as a completely unexpected surprise to you. Think of this as a good thing. It’s been my experience that the really good composers will bring a whole wealth of non-musical references to the conversation: literary, dramatic, scientific. Be open to new ideas. You may have had one instrument in mind, but now the composer suggests something else that could really be unique. You thought you wanted a flute. They suggest a duduk. You’ve never heard of a duduk. That could be really cool, have them play something for you with duduk.
Can you work with this person? It’s not like you’re going to have to be best friends, but you are going to be spending a whole lot of time in cramped quarters eating smelly takeout with this person, so make sure you can get along. You want the conversation to be open, uninhibited. Can you make suggestions without the composer getting prickly about it? Are you open to suggestions that go against your preconceived ideas, and can the composer make suggestions in a w
ay that doesn’t make you all sweaty and nervous? Maybe you really like them as a person, but you’re not so sure about the music. Go with your gut. This is tricky, because you have to be prepared to cede control on something extremely important, something that can elevate your film to new heights or can bring it disastrously crashing down. At the end of the day, though, it is still a director’s medium, and both you and composer need to be clear on that relationship.
After going through all of the above, you’ve decided you’ve found the perfect composer for your film and you’re ready to begin your collaboration. You and your composer will go through your film together from top to bottom, you’ll pick the places where you think there should be music, you’ll both talk about ideas you think might work. But you can only talk about music so much, you need to actually hear something, so the composer will start out by sending you some rough sketches of musical ideas for your film, either general thematic ideas or cues for specific scenes. Either way is fine. The main thing is to get a musical dialogue going.
The first time you hear these sketches you will most likely freak out, they’ll sound technically crude and awful, the melodies will be awkward and unformed. You will go many sleepless nights. You will wonder how it was possible that you turned over your entire life’s purpose to this other person. This is normal. I have yet to meet a director at any level of experience who hasn’t felt this way. Take a deep breath. Remind yourself that the composer is already scared to death that you’re going to hate their sketches, they’re afraid of failing, they wanted to impress you right out of the gate. Everyone’s feeling vulnerable here.
And then, like in any good relationship, be honest and be gentle. Don’t try to talk “music.” There’s nothing a composer dislikes more, and finds more confusing and unhelpful, than a director who tries to speak “music.” Don’t say things like, “I wish it were more minor” or “It’s not the meter I had in mind.” Instead, speak about emotions, feelings, dramatic intentions, think about how you’d express the same idea to an actor. In fact, it can often be useful to explain the scene in exactly the same way you explained it to your actors when you were rehearsing or filming. Be positive, be constructive. Your composer is eager to please, they’ll rush back to their studio and make it all better.
Nice Job, if you close your eyes and listen to this score you can find yourself drifting into a far off land where things build to a pleasant proportion.
I say very whimsical and uplifting, you will really enjoy this score by composer Kristian Sensini and find it to quickly become a favorite for 2014. Jeremy [Howlin’ Wolf]
September is a month that I particularly like… for different reasons.
This year I’m adding more to the list, professional ones, related to the movie “Rocks in My Pockets”. After receiving an award at the Karlovy Vary Film Festival and a nomination for the Jerry Goldsmith Film Music Award, the movie is debuting in quite a few venues in the United States (you can browse through past and future screenings at the following link http://www.rocksinmypocketsmovie.com/Screenings.html ).
The reviews are great, and the music was noticed and appreciated unanimously.
Rocks in my Pockets Screenings in Los Angeles and New York
As I’m writing this, it’s just been announced that the movie will represent Latvia in the race for the foreign language Oscars. This means that the soundtrack will as well be nominated in the Best Original Score category, and this is utterly unexpected, what a surprise! (for more information, please visit the following link http://variety.com/2014/film/news/oscars-rocks-in-my-pockets-selected-as-latvian-entry-1201306820/ ).
So in this post I’d like to talk extensively about the soundtrack, since it’s just been published by Movie Score Media http://moviescoremedia.com a young label that has quickly become one of the most important in the industry.
If you want to listen to a preview of the music check this video
Inserisci qui la didascalia video
How did my collaboration with the filmmaker Signe Baumane start? By chance, as it often happens in our job… I had got in contact with the director Bill Plympton so that he could listen to some of my works, and Signe – Plympton’s friend and collaborator – was looking for a composer for her first animated feature film. After exchanging a few e-mail messages, I prepared some mockups for two scenes of the movie, she liked them… and I immediately started working on it.
It tells the true story of the women from Baumane’s family, including herself, and their battles with madness.
That’s why I wanted to work on this movie right from the start: writing music for a cartoon which deals with such dramatic, real issues was a challenge for me. Not to mention the fact that these events belong to the personal story of the director, meaning the risk of ruining everything was always around the corner.
The whole movie is narrated by Signe’s voice that acts as a counterpoint to the beautiful drawings. This detail was an essential part in the composition and orchestration process, as we together chose and carefully selected the instruments that could better create a musical background to the voice without distracting the viewer from the narration itself.
The basic ensemble is made up of piano, cello, flute, clarinet and double bass, instruments that I tried to use on different frequencies than those of the voice. Such a small set was ideal for this project: it wasn’t a choice dictated by the budget, but mainly the outcome of the search for an intimate, evocative sound.
The kokle, a traditional Latvian string instrument, has been added in some of the tracks. Signe Baumane is a New York-based filmmaker (she has worked and lived in the United States for years now) but has of course Latvian origins, and most of the story of “Rocks In My Pockets” takes place in this country. So, the use of this wonderful instrument became imperative and absolutely challenging for me as a composer.
After some research I got in touch with Sanita Sprūža, a Latvian musician (and renowned teacher) and kokle expert: she recorded her parts in Riga (the capital of Latvia).
Other musicians who, on the other hand, recorded their parts in my studio are Stefano Mora – double bass, Marco Messa – clarinet, Federico Perpich – cello.
I played the parts of piano and flute, and of course programmed the electronic parts. If you listen carefully, you can hear several little “noises” in the background: the sound of the piano pedals, the creaking of the wood of the cello, the breath of the clarinet, the sound of the flute keys and so on. These are the typical “noises” one usually tries to avoid at all costs during a recording session. I like them to be heard, and felt, I’d like our presence to be identified behind the music. It’s precisely for this reason that my studi
o is not completely “aseptic” and perfectly soundproofed: in each of my works you can hear (although imperceptible) the distant sounds of the environment. For example, in some tracks of the score for “Hyde’s Secret Nightmare” (2012) you can feel the sound of the rain or the swallows flying over the studio roof. These sounds make the recordings unique and add something special to the music itself; I love to listen to the songs and, thanks to an unexpected noise, remember the recording session and the time spent composing and working on that particular track.
I tried to follow the advice of Maestro Morricone in developing this soundtrack. I tried to compose songs that could be of service to the narrative and the aesthetics of the film, but that could also be heard outside the context of the movie and still have meaning in themselves. I hope I succeeded in doing so, at least in part.
When I started writing the music, the film was pretty much finished, so that I had the opportunity to get an idea of the exact narrative and emotional development, and to write the music following the chronological order of the various scenes. Here are the individual songs you’ll find in the album, along with some notes about them. I promise I won’t spoil any scene…
How to Not Commit
That is, all the (many) ways not to commit suicide, the title is pretty self-explanatory… each method has its own musical “presence”. The scene was, in part, cut in the film where you can only see one of Signe’s ideas for committing suicide. Originally, there were at least five and one of them was jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge: for this scene I wanted the xylophone to quote the music that Bernard Hermann wrote for the soundtrack of “Vertigo”, before taking a funnier and light-hearted direction.
Anna’s Theme
It’s one of the main themes of the movie, it comes back in on several occasions with variations in tempo, arrangement and orchestration. Here the theme is very playful and carefree, deliberately minimalist (just piano and double bass). It has a slight melancholic mood in the central part, to give a sense of foreboding about the evolution of the story.
Indulis
Indulis is Anna’s husband. He is an eclectic character, full of life, funny in some way. For him, I wrote a mysterious, grotesque theme. This is the very first piece I composed for the movie, being the demo that allowed me to join the project.
Divorce Latvian Style
The title of the song is named after the famous Italian comedy of the 60s, “Marriage Italian Style”. For this variation of Indulis’ theme, I composed a trio for 3 cellos (which were actually overdubbed) with the addition of a clarinet in Part B.
The Secretary and the Entrepreneur
A fun little tune that grows and develops slowly like Anna and Indulis’ love story. It’s from Anna’s point of view: she is attracted to his employer, a mature man (married, too) who appears as the most charismatic and charming person in the eyes of a young girl who’s entering city life for the first time.
New Wife New Life
Change is not always a good thing… in this slow and almost fragile ¾ I used the melodica for the melody, which has a vibrant, melancholy sound, while the harmony is supported by the kokle. In Part B, more positive, the harmony is up to the accordion, an instrument I’m particularly fond of because my grandfather used to play it. And here I played the very same “Paolo Soprani” accordion he used to own (which dates back to the beginnings of the 20th century).
Back Home
Variation of Anna’s theme, much more melancholy thanks to the slow tempo, the use of the cello and the repeated Part B (in minor key).
Russian, German, Partisans
A glimpse of the invasion of Latvia by the Russians, the Germans and the Partisans themselves: the track is thoroughly ironic, to highlight the stupidity of all wars. I was inspired by Russian and German popular and military music of the World War II; the partisan theme has instead a folk flavour.
Jealousy
The title says it all, but how can you describe jealousy with music? It is a mixture of sadness and fascination, anguish and melancholia, with a melody that gives the impression to be about to get somewhere but that actually revolves around itself, with suspicion…
10. Helpless Creatures Piano and kokle arpeggios give the basis for a light melody of only two notes, floating by, a sort of sad lullaby, not very reassuring. The sweet voice is of Agnese, my wife, who always affectionately lends herself to my experiments.
Forest
The forest is the most magical place, so in this piece I tried to create a mix of curiosity and mystery, from the point of view of a child who looks out into the woods, fascinated and frightened at the same time. In the second part there is a new variation of Anna’s theme which begins cheerfully and lively but then leaves room for two cellos playing a sad melody, but also warm and captivating.
Partisans
It’a reprise of the aforementioned “Partisans”, which develops into two other themes, one of which is rhythmically reminiscent of Indulis’ theme. It is essentially a duet for piano and kokle.
Miranda’s Theme
It starts gently as a solo cello piece and evolves slowly with the addition of the piano, in a mixture of hope and sadness.
Center of the Universe
The carillon-like intro gradually takes on nuances I’d define almost sacred. The center of the Universe is in this case the woman as a Mother.
Nothing to Hold
After a very bright and hopeful opening, the melody played by the clarinet and the harmony by the kokle give to the piece a very archaic and melancholy solemnity, peculiarly typical the old folk ballads. Piano and cello then enter to bring the sound up to date, meaning that some events in life are universal and belong to the personal sphere of all men and women of all ages.
Signe and Anna
Signe’s theme and the one of her grandmother Anna converge in this piece, where they have the same ¾ pattern but with different meanings. Signe’s theme is more modern, more curious and hopeful about the world and life, while Anna’s theme, that we’ve heard quite a few times by now, keeps having a feeling of underl
ying melancholy even in this version (which doesn’t include Part B, mainly in minor key).
Miranda’s Solstice
An evolution of Miranda’s theme: in this version it becomes a celebration of the Summer Solstice (the most important festivity in Latvia), of Nature and the Earth. The theme is “born” from the cello and is developed first by a clarinet and then by flutes.
Linda’s Theme
There are several themes in here. The first two belong to Linda’s character and her adventure to be admitted to medical school. Both of them have a certain rhythmic drive and an ironic disposition, almost one of superiority towards everyone and everything. At the end of the track, the brief Irbe’s theme is peaceful and cheerful, to describe a young and talented musician who’s ready for new experiences.
The Bride
Another theme related to Linda, completely different from the previous one. It’s a slow and eerie dance with madness, performed by a woman who has seen every single dream of love and professional ambition dissolve before her eyes. At the same time the music has a solemn, resolute pace, symbolizing the dignity and the will to bite the bullet and go ahead, in spite of everything.
Like A Clown
The title would seem to hint to a particularly funny piece, but it’s actually a song in constant balance between major and minor keys, giving the music an extremely grotesque direction, especially in combination with the pictures and the story of the film, which I’m not going to reveal…
Irbe’s voices
By far my favorite track on the album, it is basically a trio for cello, viola and piano. It’s so very different from the other little tune I dedicated to her, as it represents the struggle she embraces against her will, against the voices she hears inside her head, driving her towards the abyss. The ¾ tempo, which I used extensively in this soundtrack, somehow expresses the madness, the unconscious (perhaps inevitable) desire to surrender to and be carried away by it, as it were the mysterious and deadly partner of an endless waltz.
I Hear Music
This track contains two different scenes which are musically interconnected because they are, in a way, conclusive. Both of them represent the triumph of self-determination over insanity, or rather the acceptance of depression as one of the possible drifts of life. In the first scene, the bouncy rhythm of Irbe’s theme comes back, while, in the second one, the music is a sort of milonga, melancholy but with an encouraging, optimistic ending.
23. Finale
The opening piano and clarinet notes stand for the hesitant and humble way of those who live their life unnoticed, standing in a corner as if they didn’t belong to it. But the piece eventually changes into a melody that wants to express that they are ready to get hold of their own existence, thanks to a renewed awareness of their family, their heritage and life itself.
24.Rocks in My Pockets – End Titles
I had written a song for the final credits, but then we thought it was too “conventional”, an attempt to finish up the movie as if to say, “That’s all folks, don’t you worry, it’s just a tale of fiction.” Truth is, this story belongs to us all, on different levels, it is a celebration of life, of our inner struggle against our own demons and the social conventions that restrain us. Signe specifically requested to give free rein to the orchestration here, as this is the only piece in the film where the music dominates the scene, without the voiceover. So I chose the main theme, Anna’s theme, which starts very slowly, only played by the clarinet, and then develops for the whole orchestra. The inspiration comes from the music of Nino Rota for Fellini’s movies, it’s playful, joyful, reminds of a circus, and reveals that underlying melancholy of popular music. It’s a hymn to life, an invitation to accept it as it is with all the difficulties and idiosyncrasies, knowing that, even with its ups and downs, it’s unique, special, worth living the best that we can.
“Rocks In My Pockets” directed by Signe Baumane Music by Kristian Sensini #filmmusic #filmcomposer #soundtrack #animation via Instagram http://instagram.com/p/Z5NnonPXSC/