Bronnt Industries Kapital - Häxan (Static Caravan, 2008)

1 World Of Witchcraft
2 Centre Of The Universe
3 Hell
4 Fire
5 Underground
6 Love Potion
7 Witch (Doctor)
8 For Eternity
9 The Devil
10 Sleep
11 Rites And Rights
12 The Power Of Lead
13 Maria The Weaver
14 The Monastry
15 The Arrest Of Maria The Weaver
16 Preparations For Trial
17 Conspiracy
18 Anne, The Printer's Wife
19 The Youngest Servant
20 Inquisition
21 Thunder With Water
22 Confessions
23 Torture Chamber
24 Violent Despair
25 Endless Pressure
26 Hysteria
27 Russian Book

Boudé à sa sortie en 1922, le film scandinave Häxan a bénéficié d'un souffle nouveau sous l'impulsion de la maison Tartan. A l'occasion de cette renaissance, ce film muet s'est parementé d'une BO signée Bronnt Industries Kapital, projet mené par le bristolien Guy Bartell, dont l'obscurantisme machiavélique en avait séduit plus d'un à l'occasion de Virtute et Industria paru en 2005.
Et autant dire que l'univers hanté du bonhomme est en parfaite synergie avec ces histoires des sorcellerie peuplées d'âmes démoniaques. Armé d'un bagage renfermant claviers analogiques, orgues tremblotants, mellotron d'antiquaire, cordes que la rouille commence à ronger, le musicien tisse des ambiances de nécromancien aux sources sonores érodées et désagrégées.
Au fil des 27 titres, on passe d'une ambient raffinée et manipulée à la mode 12k (Love potion) ou enveloppante comme celle de Stars of the Lid (The monastery), à des tonalités résolument plus flippantes jouant sur de légères dissonances (The devil, Inquisition) ou distorsions (Torture chamber), invitant des orgues mystiques presque sataniques (Fire) ou intégrant des collages sonores et petits éléments qui évoquent une ère post-industrielle déshumanisée (Hell, Conspiracy). Souvent synonyme d'occultisme, sa musique a souvent l'humeur maussade, se parant volontiers d'arpèges de guitare désolée rehaussés de nappes et hululements fantomatiques (Underground ou The youngest servant, dont les stratifications vont croissant), ou de mélodies surréalistes et féériques dessinées à coup de notes célestes vacillantes (Centre of the universe, Witch, Torture chamber, Endless pressure).
Parfois, elle prend le parti de se dénuder un peu plus, laissant la parole à des claviers démantelés et mélodieux délivrant des thèmes tristes et beaux qu'on imagine sortis des cerveaux d'un Boards of Canada léthargique et dépressif (Rites & roghts, The power of lead, Confessions, Violent despair, Hysteria, Russian book).
Un nuancier subtil et fané qui baigne dans l'ésotérisme et donne envie d'en savoir davantage sur cet objet filmique ressuscité.
Ondefixe

Bristol's Guy Bartell, the creative driving force behind Bronnt Industries Kapital seems like a very appropriate candidate for scoring a soundtrack to the classic Danish horror film Haxan: Witchcraft Throughout The Ages. There's been evidence of archaic, creepy composition in the Bronnt Industries output from day one and it doesn't seem like a particularly big stylistic shift would be required for Bartell to embrace the sonic signifiers of spooky silent movies. There's also a curiously anachronistic feel to Bronnt Industries Kapital's brand of atmospheric electronica, and so pairing these sounds up with some scratchy old film print from 1922 sounds like a match made in heaven. There's more of a mystical, fairytale quality to these sounds, as opposed to the visceral horror-ambience conjured by KTL's soundtrack to Victor Sjostrom's 1921 film The Phantom Carriage, and this more subtle approach pays off brilliantly - you'll have to get yourself hooked up with the Tartan DVD issue of Haxan to see how the sounds fit with the film's imagery, but even in isolation the music reveals itself as an eminently listenable, beautifully evocative thing in its own right, drawing together clockwork devices, mellotrons, transistor organs, clarinet and a variety of unique string instruments. Wonderful stuff - highly recommended.
Boomkat

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Max Richter - Valse Avec Bachir (EMI, 2008)

1 Boaz And The Dogs (3:11)
2 Iconography (3:17)
3 The Haunted Ocean 1 (2:07)
4 JSB/RPG (1:32)
5 Shadow Journal (8:27)
6 OMD - Enola Gay (3:34)
7 The Haunted Ocean 2 (0:54)
8 Taxi And APC (2:13)
9 Any Minute Now / Thinking Back (4:16)
10 I Swam Out To Sea / Return (3:52)
11 Patchouli Oil And Karate (0:36)
12 PIL - This Is Not A Love Song (4:12)
13 What Had They Done? (1:53)
14 Into The Airport Hallucination (3:27)
15 The Slaughterhouse (1:35)
16 The Haunted Ocean 3 (2:22)
17 Into The Camps (3:19)
18 The Haunted Ocean 4 (3:45)
19 Andante / Reflection (End Title) (3:30)
20 The Haunted Ocean 5 (Solo Version) (1:38)

D'une valse à l'autre. Formidable film d'animation travaillant la mémoire de soldats israéliens unis par la guerre du Liban, "Valse avec Bachir" est aussi le fruit d'un fécond pas de deux entre Ari Folman, réalisateur fasciné par la musique de Max Richter ("The Blue Notebooks" a accompagné l'écriture du scénario) et le compositeur allemand qui, dès qu'il fut contacté par Folman, a pris soin de se mettre à l'écriture pour lui délivrer, avant même le tournage de la première minute d'animation, l'ensemble des partitions. C'est peu de dire que les images du film sont désormais indissociables de cette musique : les séquences aquatiques notamment, oniriques et fulgurantes, ont donné lieu à une magnifique variation sur l'océan se déclinant en cinq plages au déroulé progressif, qui, si elles ne font pas oublier la dette due par le compositeur à Michael Nyman, contribuent à envoûter l'auditeur comme le spectateur. Max Richter s'est aussi amusé, entre autres, à piller Jean-Sébastien Bach, à se laisser hanter par la mémoire des romantiques (la "Marche Funèbre" de Chopin et la sonate pour piano D. 850 de Schubert dont les éléments apparaissent bouleversés d'une pièce à l'autre), à puiser dans son propre répertoire ("Shadow Journal", longue pulsation sourde marquée par les violons, emprunté aux "Blue Notebooks"). L'ensemble de ces pièces est peut-être ce que le compositeur a produit de plus abouti à ce jour. La satisfaction de l'auditeur ne saurait oublier la présence des deux tubes estampillés que sont "Enola Gay" (1980) et "This is Not a Love Song" (1983) : la première sert de parenthèse à une fête entre soldats sur un navire, et rappelle, par le contexte de la seconde guerre mondiale et l'apparente légèreté du morceau, les effets de contraste dans la représentation de la guerre (le film cite par ailleurs explicitement la scène de surf de "Apocalypse Now" et celle du sniper de "Full Metal Jacket") et la seconde, contemporaine de la Guerre du Liban, entre de plain-pied dans la narration (John Lydon en figure télévisuelle épileptique introduit le retour en permission de Ari qui cherche en vain à renouer avec son amoureuse). Il y a, dans la vision du film, quelque chose de fascinant à voir comment ces morceaux réveillent instantanément la nostalgie d'une époque dans un film d'animation qui, en dehors des indications historiques nécessaires, ne joue pas outre mesure sur les détails pittoresques ; c'est à la fois plus économe et saisissant que les références explicites à Kim Wilde, Kiss ou Michael Jackson dans le "Persepolis" de Marjane Satrapi. La BOF n'inclut pas en revanche les chansons sur le Vietnam détournées par des groupes rock israéliens. Peut-être moins politiquement corrects, les morceaux auraient aussi détonné par rapport à l'homogénéité des compositions de Max Richter.
Popnews

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Philip Glass - Mishima (Nonesuch, 1985)

A1 Mishima/Opening (2:46)
A2 November 25: Morning (4:08)
A3 1934: Grandmother & Kimitake (3:37)
A4 Temple Of The Golden Pavilion ("Like Some Enormous Music") (3:06)
A5 Osamu's Theme: Kyoko's House (2:58)
A6 1937: Saint Sebastian (1:05)
A7 Kyoko's House ("Stage Blood Is Not Enough") (5:00)
B1 November 25: Ichigaya (2:11)
B2 1957: Award Montage (3:56)
B3 Runaway Horses ("Poetry Written With A Splash Of Blood") (9:09)
B4 1962: Body Building (1:29)
B5 November 25: The Last Day (1:30)
B6 F-104: Epilogue From Sun And Steel (1:59)
B7 Mishima/Closing (2:57)

Ecrivain exceptionnel, film exceptionnel, BO exceptionnelle....

Exceptional writer, exceptional movie, exceptional OST...

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Peter Broderick - Music for On Paper Wings (self release, 2007)

***sorry, no cover art***

01. A Song For The Cranes
02. Balloon Bomb 1
03. Changes
04. Variation 1
05. Censorship Variation
06. Balloon Bomb 2
07. Slow Guitar Song
08. Variation 2
09. Balloon Bomb 3
10. Tule Lake
11. Growing Up With The War
12. Balloon Bomb 4
13. Variation 3
14. Censorship Pt. 1
15. Another Song For The Cranes
16. Balloon Bomb 5 (Guitars)
17. A Song For The End

Musique composée par Peter Broderick pour le film On Paper Wings... Elégance....

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Javier Navarrete - Pan's Labirynth (Milan Music, 2006)

• Long, Long Time Ago (2:11)
• The Labyrinth (4:04)
• Rose, Dragon (3:34)
• The Fairy and the Labyrinth (3:33)
• Three Trials (2:04)
• The Moribund Tree and the Toad (7:08)
• Guerrilleros (2:05)
• A Book of Blood (3:47)
• Mercedes Lullaby (1:36)
• The Refuge (1:32)
• Not Human (5:52)
• The River (2:48)
• A Tale (1:52)
• Deep Forest (5:45)
• Valse of the Mandrake (3:38)
• The Funeral (2:42)
• Mercedes (5:34)
• Pan and the Full Moon (5:04)
• Ofélia (2:16)
• A Princess (3:59)
• Pan's Labyrinth Lullaby (1:47)

One of the most admirable things about Mexican director Guillermo Del Toro is how often he makes films in his native language. In addition to the popular and successful Mimic, Blade II and Hellboy, Del Toro’s other features include Cronos, his magnificent 1993 debut, and the chilling 2001 horror movie El Espinazo del Diablo, also known as The Devil’s Backbone, both of which were filmed in Spanish. Pan’s Labyrinth, or El Laberinto del Fauno, is the latest addition to his non-English pantheon, and by all accounts is his best film yet.

The film stars Ivana Baquero, Sergi López, Maribel Verdú, Ariadna Gil and Doug Jones, and is a visually stunning fantasy/horror set in northern Spain in the 1940s, in the immediate aftermath of General Franco’s victory in the Spanish civil war. 12-year old Ofélia (Baquero) travels with her mother (Carmen) to the house of her new stepfather Captain Vidal (López), which lies deep in a forbidding forest, and is being fortified as a stronghold against the last few Republican soldiers who remain, stragglers from their lost war. Ofélia is terrified of Vidal, and is too young to understand the complicated politics being discussed in the house, and so escapes into her books, and her imagination, to escape the grim realities of her situation. The, one day, Ofélia discovers a doorway beneath the house, which leads to secret labyrinthine world inhabited by all manner of weird and wonderful creatures, and which is ruled by an enigmatic faun named Pan (Jones), who hails Ofélia as a Princess. However, in order to continue escaping to her fantastical haven, Pan tells her she must carry out a series of terrifying tasks, which send Ofélia deeper and deeper into the maze…

Artistically and conceptually, Pan’s Labyrinth has been hailed as a modern masterpiece, and looks well-poised to become a popular cult hit in years to come with those able to dismiss the inevitable subtitles. Another interesting delineation between Del Toro’s English and Spanish movies is in his choice of composer. All his English-language movies have been scored by Marco Beltrami, while all his Spanish ones, with the exception of Cronos, have been scored by Spanish composer Javier Navarrete. While Navarrete’s name may be unfamiliar to many listeners, he is not without pedigree: in addition to his work for Del Toro, he has scored some 30 features since making his debut in 1987, including the acclaimed 2003 romantic drama “Dot the I” and the controversial 2004 prostitution drama “Yo Puta”.

Composing music to match Del Toro’s startling visuals must have been a daunting prospect, but Navarrete more than holds his own. His score is a rich, bold, detailed work, generally dark in tone, and occasionally more sinister than that, but which paints a fantastical picture of myths and legends which never fails to delight. Written for a full orchestra and a large mixed choir, the score begins with a charming child-like lullaby in “Long, Long Time Ago”, which sounds like something Francis Lai or Georges Delerue might have written for a French new wave film in the 1960s, but quickly segues into the first performance delightfully evocative main theme. It’s brass-led performance “Rose, Dragon” is impressive, while its string-heavy recapitulation in “The Fairy and the Labyrinth” is quite sublime. The meandering vocal lullaby reappears in “Mercedes Lullaby”, and during the truly beautiful “A Princess”. A dramatic waltz-like rendition, anchored by a solo piano, appears in “A Tale”, and is carried on into the appropriately melancholy “The Funeral”, and when the full orchestra swells during “Ofélia” the impact is hugely impressive. The score’s finale, “Pan’s Labyrinth Lullaby”, is a dream-like violin solo of noteworthy grace and delicacy.

Beyond the main theme, a large part of the score is made up of a series of elaborate and expressive musical phrases, each conjuring up a different magical facet to the story as young Ofélia ventures further into the labyrinth and encounters increasingly wondrous beasts. Magical choral crescendos abound in “Three Trials”, ominous marches and skittery pizzicato effects dominate “The Moribund Tree and the Toad”, and twisted-sounding viola solos slither their way through “A Book of Blood” before it erupts into hair-curling discord.

However, it’s interesting that, as the album progresses, the music gradually loses its magical sheen and begins to embrace a much more frightening aspect, as if sharing the increasingly terrifying dangers Ofélia faces with the listener. By the time cues like “Not Human”, “Deep Forest”, the ethereal “Valse of the Mandrake”, the violent “Mercedes”, and the flamboyant “Pan and the Full Moon” appear, the score is almost in full-on horror mode, the orchestra working overtime to produce increasingly garish moments of rampaging action music and cutting dissonance, with the choir providing several moments of ghostly counterpoint. These wonderfully impressionistic cues are worth the price of the album alone.

In summary, Pan’s Labyrinth is a quite superb score in every respect, and can easily be counted amongst the year’s best efforts. Despite the relative obscurity of the composer, and the art-house sensibilities of the film, the score stands up with the best Hollywood has offered in the last twelve months, and if it score is truly representative of Javier Navarrete’s compositional talents, I sincerely hope he follows the trail blazed by Alexandre Desplat and lends his voice to the mainstream. Highly recommended.

Jonathan Broxton, moviemusicuk

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