My Favorite Sound Effect

Assassins was, at least at the time, a reasonably perverse idea for a musical...the musical history of the US presidential assassins.  One of the theaters for which I designed sound announced that Assassins would be part of their season.  I was delighted.

The director let us do what we wanted, both actors and designers.  However, he reserved the right to say "make another choice," which he did sometimes even after approving a cue.  Everything existed for the sake of the play or musical or revue.  It may have been the right idea perfectly executed, but maybe something changed and the cue no longer fit.

By this point, I'd worked with Joe, my engineer/editor, on several shows.  We were a good team, and he was relentless to get a cue to sound perfect.  I decided that I wanted a distinct sound for each of the assassins' guns.  It wasn't so much that the audience needed to tell them apart as it was, to me, a matter of history.  Joe liked the idea and we exhausted a couple of sound libraries to get the different sounds.  The elusive one was for JFK.

We found the sound of the make and model of the rifle used in Dallas, but it wasn't strong enough.  I wasn't being morbid; rather, this was the assassination that most people in the audience would have remembered.  It wouldn't be enough to kill President Kennedy.  The audience would have been familiar with a lot of what happened, but the sound of the shot itself hadn't been recorded.

We'd developed several nicely squirm-making sounds for a hanging (breaking a watermelon and enhancing the sound) and for an electric chair execution (the sounds from an old horror movie lab), both of which were successes in my estimation...they added to the scene and, since the actual hanging and electric chair deaths were done in blackout, the melons' snaps and the electric zaps helped the audience make their own visuals. 

One of the more pleasant challenges was finding the individual gun sounds.  One prop gun would be covered by a kerchief:  would that muffle the sound?  One was a small, cheap gun used by a very scatterbrained woman.  The small gun sound was easy and we made it kind of staccato because it seemed to describe her.

The second-hardest sound was John Wilkes Booth's handgun.  I think it was the first gunshot heard in the show.  Joe and I agreed that everyone has heard gunfire, whether on TV or for real, so it wasn't a matter of introducing anyone to that sound.  It was, however, a statement of character.  Was it the same gun that killed Lincoln?  Probably no one thought about that, but we felt it justified a loud, resonant shot.  It was not just that he committed suicide with the gun; he killed the country.

The same could be said for Lee Harvey Oswald.  The trouble was that there wasn't really much of a "special" sound for a Mannlicher-Carcano rifle.  Nothing particularly sinister and certainly nothing to suggest an assassination rifle.  We agreed that the shot (a single shot in the show) needed to stir up emotions from 50 years before.  It had to make the audience think of the TV news clips they saw.  It had to be the shot that killed a dream.  We also agreed that it was the show's climax, at least as far as sound was concerned. 

We spent two hours working on that sound.  We wound up not using the sound of the Mannlicher-Carcano because we found a deeper sounding shot.  We layered it so that it lasted longer than the real shot, gave it a good bit of bass and reverb, a hint of treble, but it really did take a long time to tweak and remove and add.  And at one point, we looked at each other and smiled.  That was the one. 

It certainly achieved the desired effect.  People gasped, some burst into tears, some cradled their head in their hand, some looked terrified...and, to be fair, some looked like they were watching a show.  It didn't steal the show, it didn't detract from any of the actors' performances, but it was a vital part of the show.  The shot is at a specific point in the music.  I followed the music score so I could hit the gunfire exactly on cue for every performance.

Nothing is real in theater, and sound once was the least convincing of any of the arts used in the creation of a play.  The sound designer is presented with the same questions the other designers have to answer.  So often to me, sound seemed to be treated as an afterthought or a burden.  Thunder is thunder.  Birds are birds.  Traffic is traffic.  Except, of course, it's not.  The sound of firing the rifle that killed President Kennedy could have been an effect found in the sound library, but it would never have had the same impact.  It is my favorite example of creating a sound for a play.

Why? Because the Bible tells me so

I am not an ardent Bible reader.  The Truly Religious, the Falwellian Moral Majority, the righteous gay bashers, the on-going “the Bible tells me so” types…I gave up on them and their rule book years ago.  More recently I’ve realized that the parts of the New Testament printed in red are meant to be ignored…that’s why they’re in red, it seems.  Not because Jesus allegedly said it and it should be followed; rather, even though Jesus allegedly said it and it can be ignored.

I had a sort of religious upbringing.  Presbyterian, but back in the ‘50s and ‘60s, so they were still pretty literal.  We did not read the Bible daily, although father ultimately succumbed to some brand of “put your paycheck in the collection plate and you’ll be saved” grift.  However, Sunday school was Bible drill and church was “I know the Bible means this…question me at your peril,” so I had to know the drill.

And there was also Old Testament and New Testament “study” at school, a small Christian college for small Christians.

Now I’m grateful because it helps me see how disgusting The Truly Religious are.  Not just in their treatment of others, but by their careful cherry-picking of Bible verses.  The most recent, as of 6/17/18, is our morally bankrupt attorney general’s quote of Romans 13:1 to justify the separation of brown-skinned children from their brown-skinned parents as they all still believed the bullshit and wanted to find a better life in the once-great United States.

“Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God.”  All right.  That justifies ripping kids from their parents.

But then there’s an “oops” in verse 6: “This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God’s servants, who give their full time to governing.”  This comes awfully close to Jesus’ bout with the Pharisees in Matthew 22:  ¹⁸ But Jesus, knowing their evil intent, said, “You hypocrites, why are you trying to trap me? ¹⁹ Show me the coin used for paying the tax.” They brought him a denarius, ²⁰ and he asked them, “Whose image is this? And whose inscription?”

²¹ “Caesar’s,” they replied.

Then he said to them, “So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”

²² When they heard this, they were amazed. So they left him and went away.

It’s not my intention to use Romans 13:6 as an argument for why churches should be tax-exempt (“It’s in the Bible!”) or for showing off one’s “deeply-held religious beliefs” while refusing to make a wedding cake for an LGBTQ couple.  Also, it's in red.  However, it is interesting to contemplate.

And while we all know that god himself wrote the King James Version, I don’t speak that version of English, so this is the New International, written by mere mortals.

Anyway, our oh-so-honorable/god-fearing attorney general (or his lovable lackey speechwriter) also failed to get to the point of the entire chapter.

According to Paul:

8 Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. 9 The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery,” “You shall not murder,” “You shall not steal,” “You shall not covet,” and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” 10 Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.

(Emphases mine)

If verse 6 seems to paraphrase Matthew 22:21b, this is nearly an actual quote from Matthew 22:34-40:

34 Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. 35 One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: 36 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Those Pharisees could really be annoying, but nearly as annoying as that Jesus guy.  Fortunately, it’s highlighted in red, so we can ignore it.  

However, for cherry-picking purposes, how’s this:

Psalm 137:9: Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.

Or, if you prefer god’s own words:

Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones.

(Emphasis god’s)

How long before this one is used?

Music by Numbers

Jack referred to it as my "knitting."  Although maybe a bit patronizing, he was right.  I'm not a trained musician in any sense of the word.  I lucked into conducting and found out how things were done, made it up as I went along, or did what came naturally.  Arranging came about from necessity.  Parts were too high or a certain passage was too difficult.  When I started directing the gay men's chorus, I noticed there was not a whole lot music for men, so I learned how to re-voice and move parts around.  This was in the Dark Ages.

I didn't mind about the "knitting" dig.  I sat at the computer in the evenings and we'd talk...he'd watch TV or a DVD and I could hear it while working with music on the Finale system.  He was a singer, a soloist; he wasn't particularly interested in my endeavors except when something involved him.  I'm not good at writing melodies, so it's safe to say he wrote more poems about me than I wrote songs for him.  On the other hand, he could dictate a melody and I'd type it in and then work on it until he was happy.  Or I arranged songs he wanted to sing as part of an act.  Then I wasn't knitting.

It is just a tad strange, though, that I am addicted to putting music into the computer either as is or to arrange...and now even to orchestrate.  Part of it has to do with not being able to hear the choral music I like.  The voices aren't human voices, but I can hear the composer's intentions and how the arranger, if not the composer, fleshes it out.  I also love piano music, and playback on my computer now has the piano sound very well approximated.

Calling my music "knitting," as in "a hobby," also compares it correctly to painting by numbers or stitching on patterns already printed on the cloth.  It doesn't demand very much creativity and it's rewarding for the hobbyist who may not have the imagination or the talent to be original.  Painting by numbers and stitching a previously printed design can also serve as training.  Unfortunately, it's training without a teacher, but you can paint those numbers and get a feeling for what the artist had in mind.  If you are interested in painting, some aspects of it can be learned by the numbers.

Minus the teacher, for example, you can assign a different color to a number, make 7 the blue rather than the yellow that 7 is supposed to be.  Your developing artistic mind can start to see different patterns without destroying the original work.  Painting within the lines is good but restrictive. 

And so it is with the music I type into Finale.  It can be note-perfect, but I can also play around with the score because no one is ever going to hear what I'm doing and I want to hear what a change would sound like.  I love to arrange piano music to sound like how I'd play it if I could play piano.  The most fun recently comes from orchestrating a piece.  It can open up a tune to new understanding of the work, a different slant on it, or reconfirm the brilliance of the music and/or text.

When I first started my revue of music in the public domain, I thought I'd use the piano part on the sheet music and maybe gussy it up a bit.  I decided that wasn't sufficient.  Most of these songs would have been heard in a theater or on records.  I toyed with a 2 piano approach, but the novelty of two pianos imitating an orchestra wore off fast...plus it was rough for me to keep coming up with duo piano arrangements to accompany a singer.  That's when I came to the (scary) realization that if a song were performed in public, it would be as a vaudeville act...and vaudeville theaters had pit orchestras.  So I taught myself orchestration.

Lord knows it's not easy.  It does, however, create another dimension for the song.  And there are all sorts of orchestrations.  Mostly, I do a band or small orchestra.  I've also discovered the joy of jazz.  There are a couple of professional arrangers (Kirby Shaw, Steve Zegree, Mark Hayes, Mac Huff) who love jazz and arrange accordingly.  Because choral music comes with a piano accompaniment, I've now tried to rewrite the accompaniment for a small jazz combo or a brass combo (in imitation of Henry Mancini).  I know I'm on the right track if I can imagine people mumbling, the sound of glass and ice, and smell alcohol and tobacco smoke.

It's also become a project from time to time to write out duo piano arrangements from choral sheets.  There will be a piano accompaniment and the chorus, usually soprano-alto-tenor-bass, becomes the second piano, but with some necessary changes and additions.  Almost all choral pieces start out with a solo or one part, usually soprano.  That sounds nice for singing, but that it also sounds as if the pianist has trouble playing more than a melody line.  This looks like a job for Arranger Guy!

As I approach age 73, typing music into the computer for my own private, personal purposes is quite satisfying.  Depending on what I'm doing (and to what), I find great creative possibilities in just playing around with the music.  No one will ever hear it, and that's fine.  Music can be for a wide audience, but it's also intensely personal.  And the more personal, the better.

Patches -- Farewell

Patches didn’t wake up this morning. She was my last living link with Jack. Life just got a little bit harder.

She assumed she was Queen of the Universe; I explained to her several times that she was the Princess, that Jack and I were ahead of her in the Queen category.
She took the catnip talk to heart...she didn't inhale, but she loved to eat it.

She chose us at the rescue shelter. When the associate pulled her out of her cage, Patches leaped onto Jack's chest and howled, "Get me outta here!" She would not let go. I like to think she chose well.

She was abandoned by a couple. Neither wanted her, I guess, and a neighbor saw Patches in the window. The neighbor knew the couple split.

She found hidey holes and lofty heights in our house we didn't know existed. 

After Jack died, she became incredibly important to me and I spoiled her even more than when she had two big two-legged critters catering to her every need. 

One time I was having a check-up and the doctor asked me if I had psoriasis. I didn't understand the question and she pointed to my forearm. "Oh," I said. "That's cat." When I sat at the desk, Patches would hop up for scritches. Because I'm quite fat, the top of my belly made a great, soft ledge for her and, when the scritches and belly rubs really got her off, she'd dig her claws into my arm. I'll be sad when that heals.

She liked sleeping on the bed, but she rarely slept beside me. I woke up to her snuggled up against me. Did she know she was dying and figured that was a way to show her love? I don't know. I think she knew she was loved. I hope so. 

We were quite a trio, her, Jack, and me. Then we became quite a duet.

I don't think I want another cat. Or pet. Or person. But a line from Garth Brooks' "The Dance" keeps coming to mind: "Our lives are better left to chance. I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance."

Love you, Patches.