This month I had the pleasure of interviewing a truly extraordinary individual. Well, I guess you could say that's about true of everyone I've interviewed for this series, but myself, I've always been mesmerized and stupefied by someone who can either write music or play it. I remember when I was an undergraduate in college and I had the good fortune of being given two roommates who were students in the College Conservatory of Music, how awed I was at what they had to do-the dedication they had for their art, yes, but also their ability to persevere in a course that seemed beyond difficult-music theory!! How did they understand that stuff? Ever since that time when I watched those two girls make incredible music out of what were pretty funny looking instruments, I've had a deep respect for musicians and especially composers. I remember one of their fellow classmates majored in that mystical musical theory, of all things, and, poor boy, he felt he had to work towards a business minor besides in case he didn't make it-and most don't! Once you read Tim's story below, then, you will understand just how extraordinary he is. Tim made it and made it very early in life. It has been my very great pleasure to get to know him personally over the last couple of years and to count him among my treasured friends. After reading his interview, I'm sure you will appreciate him as much as I do-if only for Charlie's sake!
Timothy
Brock (b.1963) has been an
active composer and conductor who has
specialized in concert works of the
early 20th-century and silent film.
In the course of his career, he has
conducted over 200 programs including
30 world and North American premieres
of new or lost works by a wide diversity
of composers. Such programs included
the first US-concert performance of
Hanns Eisler's Kleine Sinfonie,
Niemandslied, Kuhle Wampe
and Erwin Schulhoff's Symphony no.
2, the North American premiere
to the previously lost 1930 Russian-vaudeville
masterpiece Declared Dead,
by Dmitri Shostakovich, and the world
premiere of David Raksin's Nocturne
written in 1946. He has written new
or restored original orchestral scores
to 26 silent films. His orchestral compositions
include new scores for Buster Keaton's
Steamboat Bill, Jr, premiered
by the Berner Symphonie-orchester, Keaton's
The General, premiered by the
Orchestre National de Lyon and Ernst
Lubistch's Lady Windermere's Fan,
premiered by the Orchestra del Teatro
Comunale di Bologna.
In 1999 Brock began working exclusively
for the Charles Chaplin estate, who
have commissioned nine score restorations
of the major films scores by Chaplin,
including Modern Times, City Lights,
The Gold Rush, The Circus, A Woman of
Paris, The Pilgrim, Shoulder Arms, A
Dog's Life, and the short feature
Pay Day. In 2008 his recording
of the complete Modern Times
with the NDR Philharmonie will be released
on CPO (Classic Produktion Osnabruck).
For more information, check Maestro
Brock's website at http://www.timothybrock.com/index__l-en.html.
I had seen my first theatrical presentation of silent film in 1973 when I was 10, growing up in Seattle. It was an all day show which included Keaton's COPS, Murnau's NOSFERATU, Lang's METROPOLIS and a couple of other shorts I don't remember, all accompanied by the great Andy Crow at the Mighty Wurlitzer of the (now burned down) Granada Theatre in West Seattle. Knowing full well the implications of how corny this over-used statement sounds, I am compelled to say that the event truly changed my life. This is because I distinctly remember the devastation I felt that night when my mother plainly told me that it was utterly impossible to make a living at making music for silent film. So therefore it was my dutiful pre-teen responsibility, as a gauntlet was then thrown before me, to spend the rest of my life proving my mother wrong. So by the time I was 24 I had been commissioned to compose my first feature silent film orchestral score to PANDORA'S BOX, and had written or restored 15 or 16 subsequent scores before I started to work for the Chaplins in 1999.
In 1998 I got a call from the Los Angeles
Chamber Orchestra, for whom I'd been
conducting their silent film performances
since 1995, to ask if I was interested
in restoring for live performance MODERN
TIMES. Blindly and swiftly agreeing
to the huge project, the next thing
I knew I was on a flight to Paris to
look at the manuscript score pages, which was approximately
20 inches thick. The Chaplins bought out
my contract with Los Angeles and I spent
the next 14 months restoring MODERN TIMES,
and conducted its premiere in June, 2000
with LACO, then one week later in Germany
for the European premiere with the NDR
Philharmonie. I have been working with
the Chaplins ever since and have just
completed my 9th score for them this year.
As a composer yourself, would you say that understanding Charlie's method of composing is integral to being able to restore his work? How did you come to understand his method then and can you explain that method to us?
It's helpful to have some background as to how a composer works, because, on occasion, you have to guess what he would have done in a particular passage that could be missing on paper, or is generally unclear. But, in fact, most of the time it's a matter of doing the nitty-gritty of studying the materials that you have. However, knowing David Raksin (the then 23-year-old musical associate for MODERN TIMES), for example, proved helpful in the clarification of Chaplin's working methods in the 1930's.
David told me that Charlie, after finishing
the editing of the film, set out to
the studio each morning at 9:00 a.m.
to compose music to a different section
of the film, and he would write on paper
what Charlie was playing at the piano.
After composing the scene, or in some
instances merely a few shots, Charlie
and David would define the orchestration
of that passage (i.e. decide which instruments
would play what notes) and by the end
of the day it would be David's job to
hand over a complete score to the copyist/arranger
to start making player's parts. After
enough music had been composed, orchestrated
and parts made, the orchestra was contracted
and ready to begin recording the score.
However, on many occasions, Charlie,
hearing what he had composed, rejected
an entire passage after a single play
through by the orchestra, thereby telling
David that they must begin the whole
process over again for that passage.
This makes for incredible pressure on
all concerned, including Charlie who
is paying the orchestra to be on hand
each day over a three week period. This
was unheard of in Hollywood terms then,
and is even less so now, as most film
scores are recorded over a maximum period
of one to two days. But I believe he
composed and recorded his scores just
as he did shooting scenes as a director:
everybody works, and alternately waits,
until the end result is what he deems
as perfect. And MODERN TIMES certainly
is a miraculous result, symptomatic
of this process.
What, then, is the process you go through when endeavoring to restore one of Charlie's scores?
As I said, the bulk of the work is
studying closely the materials you have.
I was fortunate to have the original
manuscripts of all the scores and parts
(from the Chaplin Archive in Montreux,
CH) in my possession at the time of
the restorations, which makes all the
difference. Funnily enough, when restoring
a Chaplin score, it is the parts themselves
that are the most valuable. 
As Charlie
was constantly changing the score as
they recorded it, the fully orchestrated
score pages, and the ones from which
the copyist made the parts, are actually,
in effect, an early draft. When Charlie
made changes, the only written evidence
of these instant modifications were
hand-written by the players themselves
on their individual parts at the time
of the recording.
The process for me was take each cue
(usually a one to two minute passage)
and start transcribing from the Piccolo
part all the way down to the Contrabass
part, and re-writing each of the 20-26
lines of instruments on the score page,
taking in all changes and modifications
to each voice as written by the players.
Often these changes would be written
above the staff-line of the crossed-out
original passage, or on a separate sheet
of music paper. When sheet music paper
wasn't handy enough (apparently!) they
sometimes wrote on the backs of scrap
paper, such as laundry receipts or pay
slips. More often than not, the chicken-scratches
I found on alternate sheets of "paper"
were unmarked as to which cue it belonged,
and I was therefore thrust into the
role of archeologist as I tried to match
the passage to the right cue.
What are some of the particular challenges you face when undertaking such a task?
There are also the occasional moments when some passages are missing entirely on paper. In the case of MODERN TIMES, there were approximately eight collective minutes missing altogether. For these moments I was required to transcribe aurally (from the optical track) the notes played by the orchestra, which is the most scary part of the restoration process as you are at the mercy of a 1936 recording, which, as good as it was for the time, only transmits 30-40 percent of what was probably on paper. This is where the knowledge of Chaplin's work and preferences comes into play as a restorer.
Another challenging factor is having
a fairly good knowledge of the antiquated
style of playing and then reproducing
that on paper. These ornamentations
are not written, but are standard playing
practices of the 1920's and 1930's.
Orchestras today do not play Brahms,
or even Stravinsky, as they did 70 years
ago. The same is true for most film
scores written in the 30's. These manners
of playing are crucial to the overall
effect of the 1936 music, and for most
orchestras today, it is a style very
foreign to them and, therefore, 
must
be written out. It is great fun as a
conductor to tell an orchestra that
they must execute the score as their
grandfathers and grandmothers may have
done, including heavy and electric vibrato
in the strings with careful observation
of the written glissandi (sliding) between
notes, brass requiring nine different specialty
mutes, Saxophones needing to synchronize
their vibrato with each other and asking
the tuba if he could play a sousaphone
instead. These treatments are merely
a starting point to creating an accurate account of the score.
On average, depending on which score,
I am able to restore 20-30 seconds of
music per day. As tedious and time-consuming
as the restoration process can be, it
is vital in order to achieve a result
that comes as close as possible to what
Chaplin heard himself.
Can you talk about the special case of A Woman of Paris score and your experience with it? Do you think this score will ever be performed in the States or will it be recorded?
The new score to A WOMAN OF PARIS was the most artistically challenging score to produce. The 1977 score Charlie had released, with his long-time musical associate Eric James, is a conundrum. Recorded within the last year of his life, it is generally believed that James was behind the selection of material and tried his best, given the circumstances, to create a "Chaplinesque" score with Charlie's approval. It is not altogether successful in supporting the film and it lacked the unique quality we have come to know in Chaplin scores. I think it was considered not appropriate to exhibit with live orchestra.
In
2004 Josephine Chaplin and Kate
Guyonvarch had transferred to CD about 20 hours of private
recordings of Chaplin
composing on the piano,
primarily around the
time of LIMELIGHT. My
guess is that these
were recordings made
for Ray Rasch, his musical
associate at the time, 
for transcriptions to
be made later. Many
of the compositions
were, in fact, transcribed
and used in the film.
But much of the music
was not used, and until
then was never heard
before.
Over several months I transcribed the unknown music to paper, identifying about 13 complete compositions, and about 21 incomplete ones. From these works I made the effort to create a "new" Chaplin score, with music from his only other drama, and it is that score now that is used when performing the film live. I have only conducted the score here in Europe, but I hope a US performance is realized soon. It's an amazing film and far too beautiful to keep to ourselves!
If you could
talk to Charlie, composer to composer,
what would you ask him (what would you
talk about)?
That's a very difficult question. Most
likely I would be asking him for a job.
Then if he hired me, and I did my job
correctly, I would be fired again just
as quickly. This I would wear as a sort
of badge of honor, considering the company
of great musicians he has hired and
fired over the years: Arthur Johnston,
Alfred Newman, David Raksin, Max Terr,
Meredith Willson. All of these guys
worked Chaplin very hard and paid the
price, but I don't think any of them
regretted any of it. I mean, look at
the result!
What's next? I got to see you working on The Gold Rush score firsthand, which you premiered this summer in Bologna-a great experience for me. Such a tremendous project must be both exhausting and rewarding. Is there another Chaplin score you'd like to work on? Or will you be moving on to other projects?
Now that THE GOLD RUSH is complete
and in publication, all of the feature
film scores of Chaplin are now complete,
Carl Davis having done THE KID and IDLE
CLASS in the mid 1990's. All that remains
are the shorts like SUNNYSIDE and A
DAY'S PLEASURE. However, I have been
commissioned by Paul Merton to create
a version of THE GOLD RUSH for an orchestra
of 15 players. I will give that premiere
in Bristol on January 18th 2008. Other
than that I am just keeping busy conducting
the 10 Chaplin scores that are already out there, as well as the other films
in my repertoire.
Having worked on the Chaplin scores
has been an amazing experience and one
I should not forget easily. So long
as people enjoy going to the films,
I think I will always take pride in
the fact that I had a small part in
their experience. The goal is, and always
has been, to come as close to what Chaplin
realized for his audience, and if I've
done that I'm happy.
