Michael Giacchino Part 2

Welcome back everybody!

Semester break is over, so I’m back in the saddle again and ready to share with you!

 Continuing my reminisces of my work with Michael Giacchino, if you visit his website or IMDB, etc., you’re going to see a lot of major projects he’s worked on. He’s clearly one of the frontrunners of the younger composers (at least younger than some of the composers I have worked with!). 

Michael was the first composer with a different last name than Newman to score a Pixar film. Randy Newman began it with Toy Story, Cars, etc. and Thomas Newman took over with Finding Nemo. 

 Giacchino’s talent for really creating big screen music was obvious. However, it began with his abilities to score for the small screen and create a character of sound that made it seem bigger than it was. But as regards to Pixar, it was so much fun recording for The Incredibles and Ratatouille, films that are not only wonderful upon themselves, but the sophistication of the scores were ‘Incredible!’

 Then we come to Up. In most people’s minds, this film became Michael’s shining moment. I don’t know how many different film composers have won ALL of the international film score awards, but as I shared in the last post, Up won him a huge number of these accolades. 

I think Giacchino’s greatest moment in that movie, as much magnificent music as there was, was during the very beginning of the movie where, if you recall the story, Carl, the old man who sells balloons in the local zoo, has just lost his wife. There is this beautiful montage of about 7 and a half minutes or so of no dialogue at all, but it’s a synopsis of their entire life together since they were childhood friends. His music for these scenes has been quoted many times in TV shows, commercials; in fact, we reprised that particular theme for an episode of The Simpsons

 That 7.5 minutes is probably one of the most beautiful and descriptive musical cues I can recall playing. This was one where we recorded it, and then they had us all put our instruments down and just watch that section of the film. By the end of it, there were lots of Kleenexes coming out, people were dabbing their eyes. Us hard-boiled, hard-bitten musicians, impervious to everything, were all welling up not only because of the scene, because of how Michael had written and SUPPORTED the scene. He made that music a piece of work that was destined to stand on its own. 

 At the very end of the Life montage with Carl and Ellie, it ends with solo piano, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s an F major chord. At the end of that particular segment, the note in the bottom register is the 5th, not the root of the chord. At first, I wasn’t sure, I thought maybe the pianist at first read-through didn’t get it to speak because it was very quiet and subtle and maybe the instrument was arguing or putting up a fight. But I kept hearing it and hearing it, and there wasn’t a tonic on the bottom! It was clearly on purpose, so I asked Michael, “You wrote this so there’s no tonic at the end of the piece, why is that??” 

 He said, “Because Carl’s journey is not over yet.” 

 The only time you actually hear the tonic in the bass of the final chord of the famous Up theme is at the very end of the movie, it’s the last chord you hear (I believe it’s a C Major chord), and then the film is done. What was really unique to me was his use, or lack thereof, of one note to make a very large difference in the outcome of the cue at hand. 

 My friendship with Michael went beyond films. We socialized together, and he composed a number of horn ensemble works at my request for the Vince DeRosa scholarship fund. I now have all of those compositions in my possession at the Frost School of Music, as well as compositions for horn ensemble by Michael’s chief orchestrator Tim Simonec, who is also a brilliant artist in his own right.

 As the business has changed in Hollywood, Michael really has been one of the last remaining film composers to alleviate the pressure on the players in the room and create an atmosphere of something to be taken seriously, yet simultaneously enjoyed. His reverence for the past has made his orchestra respect him, and be reminded of the “Glory Days,” the Golden Age of Hollywood. 

 

Next blog I will be sharing my memories with Danny Elfman, stay tuned! 

Some of these thoughts will be contained in my upcoming autobiography entitled “The Six Stages.”