Somers is the composer of the score for the currently playing Honey Boy. He also scored Captain Fantastic. Music fans know him as an essential collaborator with the band Sigur Rós. (He and the band’s Jónsi are partners.)

On Friday, CAP UCLA will present Dawson City: Frozen Time Live at the Theatre at the Ace Hotel. The score Somers wrote will be played live by Wild Up who will be joined by a female chorus from Tonality. (To view the trailer for the film, go here.)

Last week I spoke by phone with Somers about this project, his music and what long lost items of his might be interesting to dig up someday. Below are edited excerpts from that conversation.

When you first were approached about this project, what stood out to you as the most interesting things that would serve as inspiration for your writing?

Straight away when I first heard about it, it was a dream project. It was very up my alley. Working with f***ed up looking film footage that was lost and found and repurposed to tell a story.  It was in line to how I hear and see things for my music. It was a no-brainer.

How much of a fan of silent movies were you before you were introduced to this  story?

Not really. When I come across them I think they are really neat and cool, but I couldn’t say I was a fan. I knew Bill Morrison and was a fan of his work. His signature thing is he only works with archival footage.

The documentary tells the story of films that date back to the earliest days of cinema. Those films are then found in the 1970s and the story is told in this century. How did that vast expanse of time influence your approach to the music?

I wanted to create music that was inherently flawed. The story which Bill told me, which is quite sad, is Dawson City was the furtherest northern point that had a cinema. These prints would be shipped around and it was too expensive to send them back. No one knew what to do with them. That story informed the music.

I wanted to have this thing that you put so much care into it and then disregard it. I  tried to do that with the music. I did string and choir arrangements and dubbed them to microcassettes which destroys fidelity. Any chance I could get I tried to disregard the meaning of the music and  f*** it up. It was trying to mimic Dawson City. It burned down nine times and was rebuilt every time. People died and lost their homes. I tried to have the music have this creation and then almost be destroyed and then built up.

How then will an ensemble like Wild Up be able to recreate the sound you created for the film?

It’s hard to recreate it exactly. We’re going to get as close as we can. For me the notes of my music are only 50% of the work. So much is about the sound. It should be a nice blend of orchestra, choir, piano, vibraphones and a little bit f***ed up.

There is also a sound design track for the film. It was the first time Bill Morrison had used sound design. That will be treated as an instrument in the performance. Harmonically my music is so simple it leaves space for texture and sound.

Charlie Chaplin, perhaps the best-known of all silent movie stars, said in a letter he wrote in 1918, “It is always the unexpected that happens both in moving pictures and in real life.” Do you agree with him and what was the most unexpected thing that happened to you while collaborating on Dawson City: Frozen Time?

That’s a great question. I do agree with that sentiment. Art and life mimic each other all the time. I’m not sure the most unexpected thing. Every time I would send another version of the score, Bill would be, “It’s got to be darker. More low cellos and basses.” He wanted to feel the rock bottom of this town and the films.

If someone years from now was excavating land and they found some of your material, what would be something you’ve lost that might be fascinating for future generations?

That’s cool. I think some of my microcassette tapes. I’ve recorded since I was 14 and I was playing guitar and writing songs and archiving them. I had fourteen of these little cassettes. I’ve lost most of them. There’s all kinds of things on there and weird moments from my life growing up. I always kept that microcassette recorder around. That would be neat for people to find that stuff because it would sound pretty weird.

Photos of Alex Somers courtesy of CAP UCLA.

The post Unearthing the Film Music of Alex Somers appeared first on Cultural Attaché.

The range of music she can perform spans many genres including jazz, soul, gospel, pop and more. Her most recent album (which came out in 2017) is called Twenty Sixty Four. In 2014 she released TheSunRoom and in 2010 came her first full-length recording Avery*sunshine Album.  Along the way there have been multiple EPs, bonus tracks and singles.

Sunshine co-writes the songs with her husband (and producer) Dana Johnson. She also plays piano. Critics have praised her for her incredible range, the diverse styles of music she performs and how effortlessly she marries those styles.

We will have an interview with Sunshine tomorrow, but for fans of her music, she is putting finishing touches on two new albums for next year. One will be an album of new material and later in 2020 will come a live album.

If you live in the Bay Area, she’ll be performing Wednesday and Thursday at Yoshi’s in Oakland.

Photo by LANSTU/Courtesy of AverySunshine.com

The post Avery*Sunshine appeared first on Cultural Attaché.

Herrmann composed the scores for seven Hitchcock films:  The Trouble With Harry, The Man Who Knew Too Much, The Wrong Man, Vertigo, North by Northwest, Marnie and Psycho.

Starting tonight, LA Opera begins showings of Psycho at the Theatre at the Ace Hotel. Each performance will feature the LA Opera Orchestra performing Herrmann’s score live with the movie. The screenings continue through Halloween.

Note:  If you have never seen Psycho, be warned that important plot points are discussed below. Of course, major spoiler in the opening of this column, too.

This felt like a good opportunity to talk to Steven C. Smith who is Bernard Herrmann’s biographer. His book, A Heart at Fire’s Center: The Life and Music of Bernard Herrmann examines the life and work of the Academy Award-winning composer (The Devil and Daniel Webster).

The most recent Sight & Sound list of Best Films of all time puts Psycho in a four-way tie for 35th. Why does this little, low-budget film continue to resonate nearly 60 years after its release?

I think part of the reason it is so successful is that Hitchcock got to make the film he wanted to make. In a few years that wasn’t the case anymore. Hitchcock was a little nervous about it and that’s why the budget was lower and why the music is what it is. Bernard Hermann took what could be a limitation for some and turned it into one of the biggest plusses by writing a score just for strings. 

The shower scene with its accompanying music almost didn’t happen. Why do you think Hitchcock originally suggested there be no music for that scene?

When Hitchcock told Herrmann, “please don’t write music in the shower scene,” he was obsessed with the silent murder scene, as he did with Tippi Hedren in The Birds. He envisioned the shower scene without music, but Herrmann had an idea. We all know what that idea was. The music when that shower curtain opens is ice cold in the veins. 

As memorable as that music is, do you think the score is defined by more than just that one cue?

Herrmann would agree that the Psycho music is much more than the shower scene. He did not intend for that cue to be used when Norman Bates, dressed as his mother, threatens Vera Miles’ character near the end of the film. That was an editorial choice. He felt the most important music was The Prelude and The Madhouse theme which he quotes in Taxi Driver for an appropriate reason at the end of that film.

Hitchcock and Herrmann were bold in their use of music. From the opening credits you are thrust (no pun intended) right into Psycho.

Psycho being a different film, Herrmann saw an opportunity to create that mood. He also knew it would be quite a while before the movie revealed itself and where it was going. He wrote music that was emotionally and intuitively right for what the film was about. In the case of the Psycho opening music, it sets us up for movie that takes us to very unexpected places and does not give us an easy resolution.

When the film is played with live orchestral accompaniment, as it will be starting Friday, what does that do to heighten the accomplishments of Bernard Herrmann?

I don’t think it is always a successful enterprise to show a film with its score played live. Simply because many films have their scores written under dialogue and it is difficult for concert halls to have sound balanced with the tracks of dialogue that are many decades old and with the sound of an orchestra.

I think with Psycho so much of the music is in the clear without dialogue. The limited ensemble – no winds, no brass, no percussion, but the sound of a string orchestra can be chillingly effective live.

Why does this score still enthrall audiences?

It enthralls people because it is one of the finest examples of what Herrmann did better than anyone else: sophisticated music that is harmonically original and very personal. He spent much of his career writing music for stories other originated, but the work is personal. He attached himself to directors whose views were very close to his own. He and Hitchcock had a darkly romantic view of the world.

Herrmann told Royal S. Brown in 1975 that he thought a comment Rossini made to Wagner applied to him, “I don’t have genius, like you do, but I have lots of intuition.” Was that false modesty or was he selling himself short?

I don’t think necessarily either. I think that Herrmann was a very strongly intuitive composer. He was famously good at writing under deadlines – which is impressive since he insisted on orchestrating his own scores and he turned films down when he didn’t have the time to do both.

He said the composer’s first job is to get inside the drama. That’s what he did. He injected himself into the characters. That’s why his scores remain so effective. In Psycho you get a strong sense of that Gothic atmosphere just the same way you are in the minds of Marion Crane and Norman Bates.

Update:  Steven C. Smith clarified a comment about use of the “Shower Music” later in the film. Herrmann did want the shower scene used in the second killing, but did not want it used as now stated above.

Photo of Bernard Herrmann and the house from Psycho courtesy of LA Opera

Photo of Steven C. Smith courtesy of the author

The post Showers Haven’t Been the Same Since Psycho appeared first on Cultural Attaché.

This Sunday, on Mother’s Day, UnCabaret launches their regular second Sunday of the month slot at Rockwell. UnCabaret is a home for humor that, as Lapides has previously described, is  “unhomophobic, unxenophobic and unmisogynist.” What started out as an edgy, even angrier show, has mellowed a little bit with time.

It begs the question, what is life like after 25 for UnCabaret?

It’s great. There was a lot of energy from the 25th and it really helped us focus on what the show is and celebrate it. It feels reinvigorated.

Does reaching a quarter century make you think about what to do differently for the next 25 years?

Well it does and that’s a process we’re still looking at. It’s almost like a renewal of vows. What is our mission? How is our mission different, if it is. In many ways it’s exactly the same and in many ways, because the world has shifted, it’s a little bit different.

You’ve been through times where you opened and closed and opened and closed UnCabaret several times. What is it about this show that made it impossible for you personally to not let it close for good?

It’s not an easy question to answer, but it’s a good question. Partly it’s my passion about the mission of what comedy can be that it isn’t. Creating this space that is more open to women and LGBTQ voices; that is warmer and more story-based. I love doing it and I love watching it. It’s my favorite comedy to watch.

Are there weeks when the idea of putting on a show becomes overwhelming?

There might be a week where I think, “Oh God, what do I have to say.” That’s why we’re moving to a monthly program for the first time in 25 years. I do really love the weekly format, but I couldn’t be producing a weekly show and get anything else done.

You mission statement about all the things you didn’t want the performances to be was radical in 25 plus years ago when UnCabaret started. Does it bother you that it is still radical and necessary today?

Yes. [And with that she lets out an enormous laugh.] It does bother me. Before we came back I was thinking, “Who needs UnCabaret?” I started going to shows to see if we’re still needed. I saw the opposite. We are still needed. Even if the lineup is inclusive in clubs, the vibe isn’t. 

How have you and, by extension, UnCabaret changed over the years?

One big shift is when it started it was radical and it came from a spark of anger and rebelliousness. Now one thing that’s changed is I’ve softened. Whatever the spiritual and emotional journey is, I’m softer and warmer. Come for the comedy, stay for the hugs. It’s a softer, gentler environment than it was when we were younger. That’s also because the world is harsher. I really produce the show to have a feeling of uplift more than I did in the beginning. The exciting thing is to shape every night that people leave with optimism and hope and an excited feeling about embracing Monday. Only through that feeling will we get through this very tricky period of history and will we get better.

What has the Trump era done for the comedy at UnCabaret?

It’s really interesting. It such a Twitter reality that people tend to stay away in UnCabaret because it’s so day-to-day and ephemeral. I think people are trying to get in deeper at a divided world; at the human and American things that are coming to light. Rather than taking Trump as a topic, the can of worms is the topic.

We live in a cacophonous society where talking over people is more common than talking with people. What can comedy teach us about listening to each other?

If you actually watch great comedy a great comedian is listening to the audience. That’s one of the differences. A comedian will listen and let the audience be part of the conversation and you feel that. The comedian will go deeper, explore more, respond to your laughter and give more to your laughter. I won’t say tailor what they are saying, but open up to you in a deeper way as an audience. 

The other point would be finding yourself laughing at someone you don’t agree with or isn’t your type or you might not necessarily hang with and they are letting you laugh. That opens your mind to more different kinds of people. It’s a sharing of life experience. No agreement is necessary.

Social media, our devices, a divided country and more have detrimental impacts on us. What do you think UnCabaret brings to the world as it enters its second quarter century?

I like to say “less will be revealed.” I’m letting UnCabaret reveal itself to me. I think loneliness is an epidemic. This idea that you are supposed to feel more connected, but you are not. The more I  celebrate life that combats that loneliness, that’s where my happiness comes from. UnCabaret is a place where people can feel less lonely. We’re all trying to shepherd earth to a better future and not to its end.

For tickets go here.

The announced line-up (subject to change) for Sunday is Tim Bagley, Lauren Weedman, Alex Edelman, Brittany Ross, Jamie Bridgers, Tina Baker with Mitch Kaplan as Musical Director.

Photos courtesy of Beth Lapides.

The post Beth Lapides on UnCabaret’s Life after 25 appeared first on Cultural Attaché.

Muhly has assembled a program that includes his collaboration with Thomas Bartlett on Peter Pears: Balinese Ceremonial Music. This album was released in 2018 by Nonesuch Records. It features nine songs the two wrote together and three transcriptions of traditional Gamelan music.

Philip Glass has long been an inspiration for Muhly. As part of this program he will offer his own interpretations of some of the composer’s lesser-known works. These will be performed with Nadia Sirota on the viola and Caroline Shaw on vocals and violin, Alex Sopp on flute, Lisa Kaplan on piano, Lisa Liu on violin, Patrick Belaga on cello and Wade Culbreath on percussion.

Rumors are circulating about some special guests who will be part of this concert. Since Muhly has worked with Sufjan Stevens, Bryce Dessner, Benjamin Millepied and more, who could they be?

I’m hoping that one or more of his operas, Two Boys, Dark Sides or Marnie might be performed in Los Angeles sooner as opposed to later.  LA Opera? Beth Morrison Projects? REDCAT?

Until that happens, we’ll have Archives, Friends, Patterns which is our pick for Your Best Bet This Week in Culture.

For tickets go here.

Photo of Nico Muhly by Heidi Solander/Courtesy of Cap UCLA

The post Your Best Bet This Week in Culture: Nico Muhly: Archives, Friends, Patterns appeared first on Cultural Attaché.

It’s also a film for which several composers have written new scores. Several years ago composer Jeff Beal, a five-time Emmy winner, was commissioned to write a score for Keaton’s classic movie. The Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra will be playing that score live, with Beal conducting, as the film is projected at the Theatre at the Ace Hotel on Saturday night.

If you don’t know this movie, you should. It’s amazing what directors could do long before CGI. This is storytelling at its best.

Update:  If you want to learn more about this, look for my interview with Jeff Beal elsewhere on these pages.

Photo Credit: courtesy of Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra

The post Buster Keaton’s “The General” with a score by Jeff Beal appeared first on Cultural Attaché.

Before embarking on this project, Moran made one thing perfectly clear, absolute remakes don’t work. He told New York Magazine that Gus Van Sant’s shot-for-shot remake of Psycho was just one example.

So for this project, which he’ll be performing on Friday night at the Theatre at the Ace Hotel (part of CapUCLA’s season), he’ll be trying to delve into not just the music, but a sense of how this evening came together.

If you saw Jason Moran’s Fats Waller Dance Party at either Walt Disney Concert Hall or the Valley Performing Arts Center in the past couple years, you know he’s simultaneously respectful of those who came before him and also an innovator who brings a fresh point-of-view to his presentation of their music.  This is certain to be a memorable evening.

The post Jason Moran: In My Mind: Monk at Town Hall 1959 appeared first on Cultural Attaché.

This July 4, America will turn 240 years old. To celebrate this monumental anniversary, singer/actor/playwright Taylor Mac (who prefers to use “judy” rather than “he” or “she” as the appropriate gender pronoun) has surveyed the popular music from all of those 24 decades, dedicating an hour of performance to each for a total runtime of 24 hours (this is the ambition on which our great nation was built). On Saturday, March 12, judy will perform a segment from the 20^th Century portion of the program at UCLA.

“The big thing for me is that the content dictates the form,” Mac says of this mammoth undertaking. “I’m always thinking about what the particular decade is going to be about, what the whole show is about, and then I find songs that work within that theme. The challenge in the early decades is there isn’t that much material that survives that we can pinpoint to the decade. The challenge for the later decades is there’s so much—how do you choose? We are trying to use these popular songs to rally people to a cause, to mourn together, to celebrate together, to love together, to protest together. I try to find the songs that are trying to do something.”

Mac has long been considered one of the most adventurous performers and playwrights, having received universal praise for a performance in the Public Theatre production of Good Person of Szechwan. The singer also teamed up with Mandy Patinkin in The Last Two People on Earth, which will at some point come to Los Angeles. And Mac’s play Hir just closed after a sold-out run in New York.

Part of the preparations for the full 24-hour version of the show sees Mac performing different segments around the country. “We are work-shopping all these shows and taking them to various places,” judy says. “An act is three decades. I just did Act Seven for the first time in Ann Arbor—1956-1986. This is the Civil Rights Movement and Stonewall and all that kind of stuff. One of the things I talk about in the show is how white guilt stops people from engaging in the conversation of racial inequality. We ignore issues for fear of getting it wrong.”

During the show Mac takes songs and puts a unique spin on them. “To do these songs and to sing a Bruce Springsteen song and be a raging queer while doing it,” judy says, “that’s enough in some ways. It reframes the history and puts me in it. To do Gimme Shelter, and to frame it like it’s just a shot away, and to talk about Marshall P. Johnson, and throwing the shot glass against a mirror at Stonewall—to take a hetero-normative song and make it a gay liberation doesn’t happen too much. Despite the arguments of historians, we exist and find our way into it.”

If you’ve ever seen a Taylor Mac show, you know that simply being an observer is not an option. “It’s a like a sporting event or a church,” judy says. “You’re asked to do things. Everyone does the wave, or at church everybody gets up. That’s what we’re doing in these shows. We create, like, a queer church or queer sporting event. It gives us these shared experiences. One of the things I’ve noticed is we don’t have a lot of ritual in our lives if you aren’t into sporting events or church. How do we create ritual with these concerts and make it an alternative to those mainstream institutions?”

Finding a place at the musical table is not Mac’s only goal with this show. “I create theatre for catharsis,” judy says. “I work in catharsis. That’s my job. That’s the job description. Catharsis can be laughing your ass off. You have to stand up and participate and bring your humanity and vulnerability. I try to get that out of people. So far we’ve been successful. We’re saying, ‘Respond how you want to respond. We are giving you permission to change and to bring yourself to the room.’”

Despite the perception that audiences have short attention spans and rely on their smart phones for entertainment, Mac doesn’t find that technology encroaches on the shows. “People are craving shared experiences, and it’s so fun,” judy says. “And I think social media has helped the shared experience at the shows. The trick is to make it clear you are in for the ritual of it. That’s what we’re doing. I’m doing this until I can’t do it anymore. Even if it is for 100 people or 1,000 people.”

UPDATE: Next year Taylor Mac will be performing the entire 24 hour cycle at the Theatre at the Ace Hotel as part of the CapUCLA series. Taylor Mac opens at the Curran Theatre in San Francisco, Friday, September 15th.

Photo Credit: The Ace Agency

The post Preview: Taylor Mac Surveys the 24-Decade History of Popular Music Over the Course of a 24-Hour Show appeared first on Cultural Attaché.