If the current composing community was comprised solely of a limited number of veteran composers, adjustments in the price of a film score—either due to the economy or because the composer just wanted to do a particular low-budget project—would be made based on a reduction of their regular price. However, with so many of the available composers being of emerging status or those just starting to build their career, and without a regular or established price or the representation to engage in negotiations, the price too often becomes whatever is perceived as a “competitive edge” (currently zero dollars with IMDB credit).  This, then, becomes an industry norm and is perceived to be the value or worth of music for that particular category of media.

Deane Ogden makes a good point in his recent SCOREcast article Community Counts.  Advanced technology has merely enabled us to be efficient, but composing music for film is much more than efficiency.  It is the composer’s ability to diagnose how much music and of what kind the music should be.  Then to create, not from whatever samples are available but from one’s musical background and intellect, the perfect score for that production—and that particular film maker.  And, in addition, to offer input to that filmmaker even when he/she may not agree.  This last duty, if not coming from a place of experience, must then rely upon an extensive backlog of viewing and analysis of film scores coupled with the tact and charm of presentation.

Let’s “re-sophisticate” our profession.

Two of the four words above deserve some reflection—Sophisticate and Profession.

Defining the Role of Composing

• Artist = An unrestricted creative
• Artisan = Creativity with functionality
• Professional = (used as a noun)  Highly educated, mostly salaried workers, who enjoy considerable work autonomy, a comfortable salary, and are commonly engaged in creative and intellectually challenging work. Less technically, it may also refer to a person having impressive competence in a particular activity.
• Profession = A calling requiring specialized knowledge and often long and intensive academic preparation.
• Craftsperson = A person who practices a craft with great skill.  Creates to specification.
• Worker = A person who is employed to do physical or mental work for wages.

I would like to think of composing for media as neither the first nor the last of the definitions above.  I’m afraid that we might be slipping toward the “worker” category due to a perception stemming from technology and supply-and-demand ratios.

• Sophistication (Synonyms)
  —refinement
  —elegance
  —finesse
  —poise
  —tact

• Sophistication (Definition)
  — sophisticated character, ideas, tastes, or ways as the result of education, worldly experience, etc.

Yes, the hardware and software with which we work is sophisticated but it is also readily available to everyone – including the film maker (think Garage Band and Apple Loops).

The sophistication of our profession comes from our experience as players and listeners; our musical education; our musical taste and our ability to write only what is needed and no more (a.k.a. discrimination).  Hardware, software and the people to operate them are in plentiful supply but the musical and mental skill-sets of a true media composer are what is rarer and of greatest value.

What we, as composers, need to focus on are the skills and talents which cannot be purchased online or in a music equipment store.  As “machine operators” we are worth slightly more than minimum wage, but as professionals we are worth what I consider to be far more appropriate compensation.

What do you think?

The employer is offering to give an employee money. The negotiation centers around whether or not the potential employee is willing to do the things required in order to accept that money. This negotiation is uneven from its very inception. The potential employee is obviously not currently employed or he/she would not be looking for employment. This gives the significant advantage to the employer.

When many people are unemployed either due to an economic state such as we are currently experiencing or, due to an abundance of potential employees such as the composer community is currently experiencing, the employer’s advantage increases.

What people are willing to put up with in order to land that job, varies. We might think of this as people with various pain thresholds.

So, what mechanism is necessary to “level the playing field” between employer and potential employee?

In the United States there are two statuses for workers designed to act as equalizers. The first of these is the official status, “Employee”. In its purest sense, employee status is given to those who meet certain criteria such as (but not limited to) being told where and when to do their work and being provided the tools with which to do that work. Workers who are deemed “Employees” are allowed to collectively bargain with the employer and are afforded a benefits package consisting of a pension or retirement fund and some kind of healthcare coverage. Those employees who create something as part of their job description are, most often, required to concede ownership rights to the employer.

The second status, for those who do not meet the Employee criteria, is “Independent Contractor”. Independent contractors who create something actually do own it. It is that ownership and the subsequent negotiation for access to that which has been created—either by license or sale—which is considered the equalizing factor for the independent contractor.

Composers and lyricists who worked on the studio lot in the forties and fifties, writing on paper provided by the studio and working in an office and on a piano or typewriter which the studio owned, were considered Employees and consequently allowed to form a guild or union and collectively bargain with their employers.

Today, there would be reason for great deliberation over which classification (Employee or Independent Contractor) would be most beneficial to media composers and lyricists if it wasn’t for one significant wrinkle: Work-Made-For-Hire.

Without going into the establishment of Work-Made-For-Hire, suffice it to say that it is today, for media composers in all but the most innocent or ignorant production circumstances, a “condition of employment”.

Here, then, is the situation in which media composers and lyricists find themselves:

We are currently Independent Contractors working under a Work-Made-for-Hire agreement (the contract document is the Certificate of Authorship). The result of this is to strip the Independent Contractor of ownership making him/her a “temporary” Employee without the right to collectively bargain nor the benefits package normally appropriate for Employees.

It is, for the media composer/lyricist, the worst of both worlds. For the employer, it is the best of both worlds thereby increasing the employer’s advantage exponentially.

The possibility of overturning work-made-for-hire is remote as it is part of the U.S. Copyright Act. The possibility of becoming, officially, Employees, and achieving the right to collectively bargain and receive benefits is before us and obtainable.

The status quo should not be a consideration as it offers us a continuation of hybrid status which only benefits the employer in what can only be considered a “buyer’s market”.

EVOLUTION

This personal wisdom (if indeed it is either personal or wisdom) comes to me at sixty-three years of age. Many things are falling away at this age, but retrospect and derivative knowledge are the offsets. No young person, unless he or she is clairvoyant, can claim this perspective.

Evolution moves at a glacial pace. It moves like the growth of a tree, like the appearance of facial hair on a prepubescent male. It seems to move slower as our attention spans shorten. Often evolution is imperceptible due to this slow pace until it reaches critical mass. When it hits critical mass, mankind clusters in an effort to speed up evolution. Global warming will be solved, but the progress in alternative energy has, until recently, been glacial. All of a sudden it seems Iʼm not the only one with a five kilowatt solar array on his property.

In the big picture, evolution can be viewed as positive, but when broken into shorter periods its effects often seem negative. For example: smoking and obesity. Looking back we can see that acceptance of these lifestyles happened slowly… until recently, when that “cluster” of humanity decided to move these items to the top of the priority list and do something about them.

These are obvious, in-your-face examples. They affect large numbers of people from a health standpoint as well as a financial perspective when you consider the cost of medical treatment for complications from both.

Our business, the business of creating music for film, television, media (and whatever else might come along) is also evolving. By its very nature, our music is designed to be subliminal. It is consequently not in-your-face, and does not affect people as dramatically as cancer or diabetes. Any negative effects resulting from evolution will not easily be noticed. Nor will they motivate clusters of filmmakers, composers or even audiences to undo what has been done.

So, what am I saying? What is this “negative” evolutionary effect, and what is the cause? Should we do something about it, or will big-picture evolution eventually take care of it as is happening with smoking and obesity?

It was recently announced that China is contemplating sweeping changes to their higher education system. Apparently they have been teaching a very narrow curriculum, based almost entirely on existing knowledge. This dates back to the early days of communism and the belief that an education concentrated on a specific skill set, say engineering, would produce the worldʼs best in that particular field. What has evolved as a result is a population with extremely good working skills, but without the ability to invent, imagine, probe or discover. It is now speculated that a more liberal education coupled with life experience is imperative to achieve these qualities.

When I first became interested in Film Scoring (circa 1962) there was one book available on the subject: Underscore, by Frank Skinner. That was it. Only years later did Sounds and Scores by Henry Mancini hit the market. You could not take a college course on film scoring. As a matter of fact, no one could actually tell you how to become a film composer. So the “burning desire” was sated by merely writing music—for anything and everything.

The result of all that writing was a musical vocabulary that was both diverse and personal. It would be the equivalent of the musical vocabulary accrued by the instrumentalist who has played in bands and orchestras from an early age. The other equally important adjunctive skill was working with a plethora of varied personalities. Jazzers, Vegas people, concert promoters, road managers, Top 40 acts, all with different visions and expectations about their music.

We now have courses in Film Scoring at most major universities. Some even offer a Masters degree in the subject. I had a student begin studying privately with me when he was only 16 years old. This proliferation of  possibilities for an education in film and media music is the product of supply and demand. In the Sixties there were a handful of film composers and that was enough. The process of making films was slower (pre-digital, you know), so fewer films were made and the tried and true professional composers could not only handle the workload but could prosper doing it.

Todayʼs film composer community is extremely large. The size is reflected in all the college courses that have sprung up over the last 10 years. This makes competition keener, and consequently increases the need to start on this educational path as early as possible.

Compared to concert music, the amount of film music available for study is miniscule. Less than a hundred yearʼs worth. And styles of film music have changed so radically that, unless you are a history buff, you will likely be listening to examples from the last 5 or 10 years.

Think China! Think variety!

There have always been qualitative differences in film music, even when there was only a handful of composers. There was good film music and not-so-good film music, but at least it emanated from the minds (some better equipped than others) of human beings. Human beings, each with a personalized musical vocabulary.

One of the undisputed technological accomplishments in recent times is what we often refer to as emulation. We write with an emulated orchestra—an emulated oboe or French Horn. This ability would be categorized as an “advance” in technology if it werenʼt for the fact that it is, as we speak, paving the way for—are you ready?— EMULATED FILM MUSIC.

“It sounds just like film music!”

I started arranging at the ripe old age of 13. I was NOT a prodigy. I merely had an interest and, more importantly, a father who had been a dance band leader in the 30ʼs and was now a junior high school music teacher. MY junior high school music teacher.

Hereʼs the thing about the (almost lost) art of arranging: unless youʼre a student, there is NO emulation. Emulation would be anathema to arranging. As an arranger you take an existing song and try your damnedest to put it into a musical genre or setting in which it has never existed previously. This requires imagination. The same imagination that those whom we “emulate” have.  Technology and the internet have given us the ability to quickly and thoroughly analyze music. We can slow things down and grab every note and glissando in an effort to see what those “anointed” among us have done. This is the equivalent of Chinaʼs higher education based on existing knowledge.

For the gear junkies, or technogeeks, this is the best thing that could happen. It is the very justification we need to buy that new library of sounds or those incredible reverbs. The better the sound, the more it sounds just like MUSIC! Whoo hoo!

Every year, for the past twelve years, I listen to the demos submitted by the top fifty or sixty applicants to the ASCAP Television and Film Scoring Workshop. I know what I hear. There are a few very original works every year, but the majority are, to a greater or lesser degree, derivative.

This is NO FAULT OF THE EMERGING COMPOSERS WHO SUBMIT!

“Then whose fault is it?” you ask.

“Evolution,” I reply. And, subsequently, is it a “fault” at all?  Maybe itʼs just the new reality. Entertainment is changing; attention spans are changing. Hell, wars are changing. Governments are changing.

As a matter of fact, Iʼm not sure that there is anything to be done or that there is anything wrong… except that Iʼm betting you would like to figure out, in a “cattle call” world of media composers, how to get work. How to be noticed in the “herd.”

I used to open my classes with the following question: “How much money do you expect to make, annually, as a film and television composer?”

Hereʼs the new question that starts off my class: “How many of you have: Stormdrum; East/West Gold or Platinum Orchestra; Vienna Symphonic Library Orchestra or Strings; Ivory; Hollywood Strings?”

“If you all have the same sample libraries, (and Iʼm thinking to myself, “…and are emulating Giacchino, Zimmer, Newton-Howard, Newman and Horner”), what separates you from everyone else?”

Now, once youʼre hired, you most likely will be asked to recreate the temp score while circumventing copyright infringement, but, at least in your demos, you have the freedom to be creative and, OMG, maybe even give the filmmaker an idea that doesnʼt already exist in at least one other film.

When it boils down to merely a price war, no one wins. As I am known to ask, “How many $5,000.00 projects do you have to get every year to support yourself, your family and your gear while living in LA?”

By now you’re probably ready to go read something else unless I get to the point, and so I shall.

The computer is your tool box. You should set aside a period of time—between the viewing of the film, scene or project and the time when you open your tool box—when the ONLY thing you do is something that can be done with your eyes closed.

The thing you possess, which no one else possesses, is your musical history of listening and playing. Your likes and dislikes; your musical tastes. These individual aspects of your work may not be perceived by the filmmaker as important, but they are the very factor that sets you apart from the herd.

Once you have the job, itʼs never about the music. Itʼs always about the film. How you diagnose the dramatic impact of the filmmakerʼs vision is whatʼs important—NOT that you use Altiverb or sound just like “Whomever.” The determination of what is important to this particular film or scene is not inside any library or sequencing software. I feel that the most damaging phrase in contemporary jargon is “Thatʼs cool.” Often, my response is “Very cool. Inappropriate, but very cool.”

Put your mind between the project and the computer.

© Music By Richard Bellis
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Born in Pasadena, California, Richard Bellis began his show business career as a child actor. He worked in movies and television until the age of 12, then turned all his attentions toward music and left acting behind. Within months of graduating from high school, he became musical director for the touring version of the popular rock-and-roll showcase Shindig!. This was followed by a stint with Johnny Mathis and ten years of arranging and conducting for several Las Vegas headliners. In 1976, Bellis left the road and began scoring films on a full-time basis. He won an Emmy for the score of Stephen King‘s It and Emmy nominations for HBO’s Doublecrossed and ABC’s Double, Double, Toil and Trouble. In addition to his film scoring career, Bellis is past president of the Society of Composers and Lyricists; served on the faculty of the University of Southern California for 17 years, where he lectured in the Scoring for Television and Motion Pictures program; and acts as host/mentor for ASCAP’s annual Film Scoring Workshop.

http://www.richardbellis.com