Reading Notes
12-15 Minute Read | Tablet Recommended
Topics and Themes
The Legend of Willie Nelson, The Mississippi River, Flow equals vibe, Vibe equals color, Using color to describe exactly what vibe you want in your film.
All Music Has Flow and Color
There is a legend about Willie Nelson that seriously piqued my interest a couple of years ago. I think it's a legend that explains why his music feel like it does, and it's also murderously poetic.
The legend: If you aren't careful, Willie will take you down to the river and drown you.
And no, the legend is not literal!
This legend immediately struck me as being a philosopher's stone about music. With few words, I think it explains why Willie Nelson is a one-of-a-kind phenomenon, why he is just as recognizable as the color green.
Chances are you are thinking of Willie right now as you're reading this, and can probably picture him in your mind. He’s so distinct not just because he's famous and his face is well-known. It's not just because of his stories, the causes he supports, or the amount of weed he smokes. There's something deeper going on...
What is it about Willie Nelson that makes him incomparable, so distinct, so memorable?
The answer lies hidden in his music, which Willie is best known for obviously. If he wasn't a musician and bandleader, we wouldn't know his name! And what makes him so distinct has to do with how he plays his music. In other words, it has to do with Willie's musical flow.
Flow in Music Equals Vibe in Music
Flow in music is vibe. Some records have a vibe that is intense and bright, and others have a vibe that is mellow and muted. Some vibes are clear and transparent, too. Vibe in music is often the only reason we will prefer one record over another.
If you're a filmmaker, you probably already know this. After all, the right vibe is vital to achieve for each scene. If the music composed for a scene doesn't give you the right vibe, well, it has to go.
If you're an audiophile, you've experienced what it's like to listen to a piece of music that just doesn't fit your current mood, even if you had enjoyed it in the past. But if you listen to that same record a day or two later, it hits the spot.
If you are content to listen to a radio station, you've experienced what it's like to hear a song and it just not working for you. But if you’re a radio listener you’re probably used to this feeling and are waiting until the right song comes on.
All of us have had that moment where the right song comes in at just the right time, and it was magical.
What causes one piece of music to be so perfect for one specific moment, when so many others just don't fit?
The answer, in short, is musical flow. Filmmakers who understand the concept of musical flow understand how to select the right music for each scene of their films (if they hired a music supervisor) or how to effortlessly communicate how they want a cue to feel when they’re working with an original music composer.
In this article, I want to help demystify musical flow so you can learn how to pick perfect music (or the perfect composer) for your film, without very much effort.
Lovely, right?
Before we do anything else, we need to define "flow." Fortunately, there's something that is just as iconic to Americans as Willie Nelson that perfectly describes what flow is: The Mississippi River.
Musical Flow
If you were to think of the Mississippi River, how quickly can you form a picture of it? Like most Americans, I can recall it in my mind instantly.
The mighty Mississippi has such a slow flow that sometimes you can't actually tell it's a river. Sometimes we could be fooled into thinking it's a lake. It looks so... calm, right? But don't be fooled! It might look docile, but underneath lies a fierceness.
In periods of extreme rain, the Mississippi will flood entire cities and ruin everything for miles outside of it's regular banks. It's will take down that which took entire lifetimes to build. It can be cruel, without mercy. It can be spiteful, perhaps even jealous. The river has claimed the lives of untold amounts of people. Jeff Buckley quickly comes to mind: He was the great singer and guitarist who decided to go for a swim in the Mississippi and never returned.
And while there are those who are wary of the deep menace of the Mississippi, there are many who will agree that the river is indescribably beautiful. The way the sun shines on it. The way it flows and curls and eddies throughout the landscape. The wildlife that lives in it. The change of seasons on the river. The way it hides many millions of creatures, some that may never see the light of day. The way it conceals many centuries of history, untold amounts of treasures. The way it has witnessed epic adventures and terrifying tragedies. The way it inspired so many artists and writers, Mark Twain being a well-known example.
Wide and portly, stately and graceful, at times horrifying and menacing, utterly mysterious, the Mississippi river is without a doubt the most famous river in America.
What makes the Mississippi an original is no different from what makes Willie Nelson such an American icon. After all, the Mississippi has it's own way of flowing that is different than any other river in the world. The mechanics of flow are similar for musicians. Willie is best known for the way he sings music and plays his famous beat-up guitar Trigger. He is defined by how he plays and interacts with everyone around him musically and how that interaction feels to the listener.
This is flow. I specifically define musical flow as an interaction between a musician and the tempo of the song.
Willie Nelson has a very specific way of interacting with his music that makes him stand out among all other country artists. The Mississippi has a specific flow and vibe because it has a very specific way of flowing with the landscape that surrounds it that makes it stand out among all other rivers.
What am I getting at? This interaction, this "flow," is what defines them. It's the interactions with their surroundings that makes them distinct.
To help you understand this crucial point (and it is crucial because understanding it will help you communicate far better with a music supervisor or composer), I want to walk you through another definitive and iconic musician's flow. This musician is just as original as the Mississippi River. He is just as unique as Willie Nelson, too. He is a one-of-a-kind. In fact, his musical flow is so identifiable that jazz audiophiles can immediately pinpoint him as a sideman on a recording, even if he's un-credited for the gig…
Thelonious Monk - The Legend.
Thelonius Monk, a pianist at the forefront of jazz in the heyday of bebop, was celebrated for his unique and quirky style. When I think of Thelonius Monk, I think of a musician who lived his own splendid way. He was a human being with needs and wants just like everybody else, but more importantly Monk was fully himself at the piano; Thelonious Monk always sounded like Thelonious Monk.
A fun story should illustrate how Monk approached life. In the incredible book Thelonious Monk: The Life and Times of an American Original by Robin Kelley, the author shares a story about a time when Monk was hanging out with his neice, sitting at a piano.
His niece saw that Monk had a Chopin piece on his piano. She said, "What are you doing with that on the piano? I thought you couldn't read music. You can read that?" Monk took the music of Chopin and sightread it perfectly at breakneck speed. His niece, whom he called Teeny, remembered looking at his hands and seeing how they were a blur. When he was finished, Teeny said to him, "You played that wrong." Monk said, "I just played that ten times faster than anyone could!" She replied, "It's supposed to be played adagio, and you played it allegro." Monk loved this sort of playful banter.
Monk, to me, was a trickster. He was playful with his words, his music, and his presence. For those who were down with his particular brand of humor, he was a joy to be around.
Of course, I associate Monk with his music. His truest expression of himself was found in jazz piano. His playing and his compositions have the same quirky-ness of his personality. And for the purposes of this article, I would like to mention that his sense of rhythmic flow sounds like no one else's.
To my ears, Monk plays in a weird way, sort of outside and inside the rhythm all at once, sort of heavy and intense. He is odds with the tempo of the song, almost off-beat sometimes. This might throw well-meaning listeners off, but like his personality, if you can swim in the flow of his rhythm there is much to be had for the effort.
Monk was also challenger of the rhythm. He pushed the rhythmic flow of a song around. If you listen to Monk closely enough, you'll hear a man who is throwing little musical pranks here and there to keep it light. I like to think that he was making sure that everyone knew that this was supposed to be fun. The musicians who were playing with him had to have a sense of humor, too. If the musicians weren't paying attention, Monk would throw them off-beat in an instant (something Willie and Monk have in common).
Monk was definitive. He was completely himself at the piano. He was so distinctive that people who regularly listen to jazz can recognize him instantly. Sometimes his rhythm is... off. Sometimes his playing stuck out like a sore thumb, but other times he played in such a perfectly nuanced way that you feel lighter for the listen.
This is what defined Monk: The rhythmic flow he had. The way he interacted with the tempo set down by the other musicians in the band.
If Willie Nelson has a flow that is slow, gentle, and has a bit of fierceness beneath it (not unlike The Mississippi River), Thelonius Monk has a flow that tricks you and throws you off what you think it will do (not unlike Colorado River through Cataract Canyon, Utah).
This same quality of rhythmic flow is applicable to practically all of the famous, iconic musicians too.
Miles Davis' ultra smooth tone and relaxed ability to soar over the music, to accent it in a superb way. His manner of working with musicians and getting them to go to their edges while he played and led the band was unforgettable.
J Dilla's tipsy and under-quantized hip hop production on his record Donuts leads the listener through an almost perfectly executed record, one that Adult Swim has fully integrated into their late-night animation advertising.
Stevie Ray Vaughn's electric, joyful, and immediately forthcoming guitar playing that inspired my fair city, Austin TX, to erect a 10 foot tall statue (which on sunny days casts a very long shadow).
The Tallest Man On Earth's driving fingerpicking songs that pushes the techniques of acoustic guitar to their very edges and makes us feel alive with joy.
Julia Doiron's incredibly heartfelt and beautiful music that gently caresses the ears with a more thoughtful sentiment, deeply nuanced, gorgeous.
Sequencia's recreations the masterworks of earlier centuries, of which their recording of Hildegard Von Bingman's sacred opera Canticles of Ecstacy being one of my favorites.
What defines all of these musicians is how they interact with the world and the musicians around them. This interaction is crucial. It's the cause of their flow. And from this wellspring comes the overall vibe we feel when we listen to the music.
There are as many different vibes and flows in music as there are musicians who play music. Everyone has a different sonic signature. Some flows feel bright and intense to listen to (the band Melt Banana). Some flows are low and slow (the band Flying Saucer Attack). Some flows are all sunshine and making love (the catalog of the Beach boys in early career). Some flows are insane asylum adrenaline grit (the band Meshuggah).
Flow equals vibe, and some vibes are better for some situations than other. An understanding of flow and vibe, and how you can communicate exactly what you want in terms of both, can give you a massive leg-up on other filmmakers. It helps you make more informed choices on your film's soundtrack, original or otherwise. The only trick is, how can you easily describe what kind of musical flow, what kind of vibe, you want to a composer or music supervisor?
Fortunately for you, it's easy when you use color!
Color as the Best Method to Communicate Musical Vibe
When you start to think about how you could describe musical flow or vibe in terms of color, the discussion can go as deep as you're willing to go. Colors, in both musicians and in art, are endless!
For example, if you were to describe brilliant and passionate vibe in terms of color, what color would you give it? Maybe this color?
Or perhaps if you were to describe a relaxed and beach-worthy vibe, what color would you give it? Perhaps this nice and relaxed color would work?
Many colorists that I know would agree that getting the colors of a movie correct can strengthen the vibe of the movie. I’m immediately thinking of how the most recent Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy looked on screen. When you start to think of music as having specific colors/vibes, it's not hard to see how music could have the same effect.
But I have been remiss about approaching a deeper point about rhythmic flow and color in music: What causes some pieces of music to be brighter, or cooler in musical color? What causes one band to be a chill ocean green while another to be an intense red and orange?
The answer lies, again, in musical flow. It's how Willie Nelson interacts with his sidemen who provide the foundation for his playing and singing, it's how Thelonious Monk interacts with his sidemen who give him an audio canvas to paint on.
If you know what makes a band/musician colorful, you would have a greater firepower to give your movies a special sparkle with music, something intensely original and completely and uniquely yours.
Pushers, Pullers, and Anchors and The Rhythmic Color of Music
Defining Rhythm and Tempo
To get you to where you can speak comfortably about the colors of music you want on your film, you need to understand the difference between what rhythm is and what tempo is. Believe me, they are totally different and vital to tell apart.
Here's the high level: Tempo is something that can be measured, like with Beats Per Minute or BPM for short. Rhythm is an interaction with tempo and is something that is felt, like a vibe (hint, hint).
Now, let's go a little deeper:
According to the Merriam Webster dictionary, tempo is defined as the rate of speed of a musical piece or passage indicated by one of a series of directions (such as largo, presto, or allegro) and often by an exact metronome marking.
Tempo is measurable. It's typically marked in BPM, or beats per minute. 60 beats per minute is the equivalent of 60 seconds in a minute. 120 BPM is the the equivalent of two beats per second. 180 BPM is three beats per second, and so on. In classical music, the tempo is given a range but is still measurable. For example, Allegro would be 120 to about 150, and Adagio could be around 66-76 BPM. Though a curmudgeon music theorist would likely disagree with me on the exact measurement of these tempo ranges, I'm pretty sure that we can all agree that tempo is measurable. I'm also pretty sure that music theorists need to get laid more often.
Okay, moving on...
Rhythm can be defined as an interaction with tempo, a reaction, a relationship.
Rhythm is what happens when a human plays along with a solid tempo. Humans are imperfect, and it's this imperfect reaction to a tempo that colors the music, that makes it a specific vibe.
Rhythm is a feeling, an emotion. Rhythm is what makes Willie sound like Willie, no matter what. Rhythm is what makes Thelonious Monk sound like Monk, no matter what. It's the way they react to the tempo of a song. Believe me, rhythm is so important because it creates all the vibe and color in a piece of music.
Thankfully, I can be a little less philosophical and quite a bit more practical from this point forward!
Musicians and their rhythmic flows tend to fall into three camps: Pushers, pullers, and anchors. Willie Nelson, for example, is what I like to call a puller, a musician who tends to create a more relaxed color and vibe through his relationship with tempo. Willie's musical flow is so relaxed even that it can throw musicians who are playing with him completely off and drown them in the river.
Yes, we're getting closer to solving the riddle!
How Pushers, Pullers, and Anchors Create Colors
Flow and rhythm is like an audio fingerprint, something that is completely one-of-a-kind for each musician. Each musician's relationship to tempo is different.
Some musicians are pushers: They are energetic! This music is what you listen to when you're in need of pep, when you want to be swept away by sound, when you need energy. Think of music that drives you forward in some way and keeps you focused.
Pushers are great to have on your soundtrack for your action movie because their bright and intense colors tend to match well with a forward-moving and epic action film.
Some musicians are pullers: They are more relaxed. These are bands you listen to when you want to deliberately chill out, when you want to shut off your brain for a little bit, when you want your body to relax. Think of music perfect for a picnic on a beach.
Pullers are great musicians to have on light-hearted movies, as their relaxed colors tend to match well with the vibe.
Anchors are the third camp of musicians, and their role as musicians is to be stable and transparent. They want to be clear and metronomic. They're not robots, of course, but they find the most enjoyment out of being supporters. They don't push, they don't pull. They are stewards of the rhythm and of the songs they play.
You might think anchors are not worth paying money to, but I beg you not to make that mistake. Anchors are the musicians who keep everyone together and are vital for the success of a song.
Let's go into some more detail!
The Colors of the Pushers of Rhythm
Pushers love to play slightly ahead of the tempo. They want to push it faster. They slice at it like a karate chop, they kick it, they punch it, they work it, and they energize it. Pushers are type A, making things happen, natural leaders, emphasis on action.
Pushers subconsciously wish the song were faster. They feel joy in the moments where the rhythm feels aligned with their high-paced energy. They want to speed up a song to a point where time disappears, to where the music matches the energy that they bring to the music.
Think of a Pusher as having a fiery color. Like the Reds, Oranges, and Yellows:
Pushers are synonymous with rock and roll and punk rock. I sometimes think of The Get Up Kids as a band that pushed rhythm. Their music has energy. They often accompanied me on my way to school in the morning; It’s perfect driving music. Metallica are definitely pushers, and they are still pushing the rhythm and the boundaries. I certainly listened to them for years as a energetic teenager!
On the film score side of things, I definitely think Hans Zimmer is a pusher. His music pushes viewers beyond where they think they can go. He is unabashedly interested in doing big-budget film scores, and he loves to be overwhelmed with the music when he gets into the theater to watch the movie.
Another example of a film composer who is a superb pusher would be Junkie XL. His soundtrack for Mad Max: Fury Road immediately comes to mind. The music is large, intense, and perfectly aligned with the visuals, the colors, and the energy of the story. He was without a doubt the best and most natural choice for the composer for that film.
Pushers love to create and play music that matches their fiery personality. They are bold, courageous, and in-your-face. Their music is full of energy. When we listen to them we are instantly pulled into their vibe. They are the fiery colors that bring a blistering energy to a project.
The Colors of the Pullers of Rhythm
Some musicians are pullers. They pull the rhythm backwards, breathe into it, gently hold it, caress it, and keep it chill.
Pullers of rhythm enjoy what it feels like when they pull back and play slightly behind the tempo. They see the value in relaxing, in chilling out and just playing music for the sake of making things a tad more relaxed. For them, it's incredibly enjoyable to just settle into the beat and help people chill. Their audiences really appreciate it too.
Think of a Puller as having a relaxed color. Like the Greens, Blues, and Violets. This person loves to "paint" a vibe in music that feels chill, cool, and (sometimes) even bashful:
BB King was an puller, with his wonderful and perfectly executed blues lines flowing throughout the blues form proves it. Jack Johnson is another great example. His music makes you want to chill out on a beach and forget about the world for a little while. Though some would disagree, I have often thought of Vampire Weekend to be fronted by a fantastic puller, Ezra Koenig, and though their music is much faster tempo-wise, I think it's more relaxed and enjoyable as a result of him being a puller.
There are plenty of film composers who are pullers, as well. I tend to think of Ben Salisbury and Geoff Barrow, the composer duo that put together the music for Annihilation and Ex Machina among others. Their music wraps the viewer in sound, almost as if you were in a cloud of music. It almost has a sort of gray/blue hue to it.
Another great example of a puller would be Nicholas Britell, the composer for the The King. Much like Britell's earlier work in Moonlight and If Beale Street Could Talk, his work on The King doesn't seek to completely overwhelm and titillate the viewer, which is so often the case with time-period epic battle movies. The music instead seems to wrap the viewer in the atmosphere of the king's experience, which is a great example of character perspective.
The Anchors of Rhythm
What is the one thing that is common to 99% of all paintings?
The canvas.
Both the pullers and the pushers of rhythm need someone to hold them, ground them, and to keep them steady. They need someone to keep the tempo steady. They need a canvas to paint an aural picture on.
Think of that anchor, that transparent drummer in the background, that solid bass player, as providing the foundation for the other musicians to color with. Anchors are obviously human, but they want to keep a steady, metronomic pulse going throughout the music, whatever the tempo is.
Often, music that has no clear anchor sounds disheveled and shocking. I think of my old demo recordings as a high-schooler (I tend to be a pusher of the rhythm. Big shocker there). If a band were 100% made up of pushers, the music will constantly be creeping up faster. If a band were 100% made up of pullers, the music will always be falling back behind. Anchors are the stewards of the rhythm. They guard against any tempo discrepancy. The pulse and foundation of the music is safe in their hands, no matter what the pushers or pullers do.
A great example of an anchor would be Freddie Green, the rhythm guitarist of the jazz big band The Count Basie Orchestra. There's a wonderfully devious story that illustrates exactly how indispensable Freddie Green was as an anchor.
In the early days of The Count Basie Orchestra, Freddie Green was offered the job as the guitarist and he was expected to both solo and play rhythm guitar. There was just one problem: When Freddie Green took a solo, the band fell apart rhythmically. His rhythm was so rock-solid that when the rhythm section figured out how valuable Freddie Green was as a rhythm guitar player, they started sabotaging his amplifier to encourage him to play more rhythm. The Count Basie Orchestra has a solid rhythmic feel to it because of the anchor it had in Freddie Green, and everyone in that band knew it.
Can we say that there is a such thing as a film composer anchor? Absolutely! The anchor film composers are trying to enhance the story with music, of course, but their intentions are not to color it, but to underscore and support it.
The first composer that comes to mind would be James Newton Howard, and though I've talked about it here, his score for The Sixth Sense was perfectly executed. His timing and diplomacy on this (and many other movies he's done, Alive being another great example) is impeccable. Though he lamented that no one paid any mind to the music in Sixth Sense, no doubt that film wouldn't have been as successful without his touch.
Another fine example of an anchor would be Randy Newman, who's work on Awakenings is brilliant. The movie itself wasn't an easy watch, but the soundtrack is a light and airy juxtaposition to much of the content of the story. It neither titillates the viewer, nor does it relax either. It just states a lightness that is well-needed.
Sometimes, the anchors aren't given the credit that is due to them. This is the price of transparency, perhaps. Equally important to keep in mind is that some movies desperately need that transparency. That precise touch can bring a movie together in a beautiful way, a way that allows the story itself to do the talking. Maybe your story needs that transparency, too?
Using Colors to Get The Right Vibe
Before we really come to the climax of this article, I want to take a second and do a bit of review.
Tempo is defined as a measurable amount of beats each minute. Rhythm is an interaction with tempo, something that is imperfect but colors the music played.
Rhythm causes us as listeners to feel a feeling, an emotion, a vibe when we hear that music played. Anchors provide the basic tempo in a band. Pushers and Pullers provide the rhythm in a band, thereby coloring the music.
John Lennon and Paul McCartney were pushers in the Beatles, but it was Ringo Starr who held them in check; Ringo was the anchor (and arguably, George was too). Therefore, I would argue that the colors that the Beatles presented were fiery, bright, and ridiculously passionate because of the interplay between John and Paul and Ringo and George. For some reason, I prefer the earlier Beatles records. When I think of the Beatles and their early catalog, this is how I would represent it in color:
Willie Nelson is a puller, but his band is mostly anchors: Bobbie Nelson on piano, Mickey Raphael on harmonica, Billy English on drums, Kevin Smith on bass, and Lukas Nelson on guitar. Willie Nelson's colors tend to be darker because he pulls on the rhythm:
Now that you know exactly how color is created in music, and also now that you know that you can use color as a tool to describe exactly what you want for the music on your film, it's time to get into the practical communication. How do you use color to get the exact vibe you want?
The better you can describe the vibe you want to your composer or music supervisor (or both!), the easier it will be for everyone to be on the same page and the better your movie will be for the effort.
How to Get a Specific Color of Music on Your Film
What is the Vibe of your Film?
To begin, you might want to think deeply about the overall color or color palate of your film. I'm not talking about color correction, mind you. I mean this:
What is the overall vibe you are going for on your film?
You might want to treat it like an elevator pitch. If you had to describe the vibe of your film in 30 seconds, what would it be?
Once you start looking at the overall vibe, you can take a closer look at the colors that would fit it. If you were to assign a bunch of colors to the vibe you chose, what would they be? Would it be bright and fiery, relaxed and chill, or perhaps just transparent?
Let's take some examples:
Mad Max: Fury Road has a vibe of shrill intensity, brightness and dread. It has themes of death, absolute chaos and lawlessness, but also has a sense of redemption and friendship. The movie's colors (just my opinion) are bright orange, sun flare reds, grime rusted metals, oxidized copper, and deep bloody reds. Therefore, the music needs to have the same fiery, gritty, bloody feel to it. It desperately needed to be created by a pusher and Junkie XL was the perfect choice.
Let's take another example: Ex Machina.
Ex Machina's vibe is intellectual with plenty going on underneath the surface of thought. There's manipulation, treachery, and dishonesty too. The colors of the movie are transparent and clear in that technological and intellectual manner, but also incredibly murky and dark in a more subdued and treacherous way. The music needed to reflect this, and the composers Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury delivered. It perfectly mirrors the subdued colors, the intellectual perfection, the looming menace.
Keep in mind that I don't have what it takes to deliver a 30 second elevator pitch that adequately describes the vibe of a movie (and I don't need to thankfully!), but I think you get my point by these examples. Finding the vibe and color of your film can get you to be more informed about how you want the music to feel.
Create a Color Swatch For Your Entire Movie
Let's say now that you do have an idea for the color/vibe of your own movie. Let's say you can describe it in 30 seconds or less. It's time to put together a color swatch that perfectly encapsulates the vibe you're after. What colors will you have on this swatch? Will they be bright and fiery? Cool and relaxed? More towards transparent?
I'll caution you not to include every single color into your color swatch. Overall, you don't want the colors to be too different, or else you're basically painting with too many colors and it'll all end up looking like brown poo. Your color swatch needs to have a consistency to it to keep a good presentation and unify the film musically.
Here would be a possible color swatch for Max Max: Fury Road:
And here would be a possible color swatch for Ex Machina:
What would your movie's color swatch look like?
Colors for Individual Scenes
Of course, having colors for the entire movie doesn't account for the individual scenes. You could take the overall color swatch and find colors for individual scenes using it as a reference.
At times of heightened emotion in your film, perhaps it's best to include a more intense and brighter hue. At times where you want music not to color but to keep the viewer from being pulled out of the movie, you could bring in more neutral colors to describe the vibe you're looking for. At times of real relaxation, like maybe after your story resolves, perhaps you could include more relaxed colors.
But, let's say that you have your overall swatch and the colors you'd like on each scene. Now it's time to communicate this to the composer or music supervisor. The spotting session, aka where you tell your composer what you want, is where the rubber meets the road: Create another copy of your script with color selections, specific to which scene you are describing, and talk about that color.
I'm sure this sounds simplistic to you... And it really should be if you want to communicate something only once. The easiest things to communicate are often the simplest to understand. Plus, there's the added bonus that it will save you money and hours of wasted time if you communicated what you wanted the first time.
If a director took the time to make a color swatch for the movie and all the scenes, my entire job would get 10X easier. Instead of being told, "I want a vibe that is happy but also sad, extremely chaotic and yet spare," I'd hear something like "Here's the color I want this scene to feel like."
Composers are smart people. Once they have a specific color in their heads that the music should feel like, it won't take much for them to execute your vision. They will have fewer iterations, and the entire process would be faster. Your movie will have one less thing to hold it up in post. Nice, right?
Here's the process in short:
Know the color of your movie and be able to describe that color with words in 30 seconds or less.
Encapsulate the vibe of the film in a single color swatch
Label each scene using a color as a reference.
On the spotting session, communicate what you want once, and then watch the magic happen.
Not only is this process faster, describing your movie in terms of color and vibe will help your story stand out from the many thousands of your contemporaries. More importantly, I have a strong hunch that your movie will have more originality.
The Answer To The Riddle
We've come now to the final section of this blog article on musical flow and color. It's time to fully explain the legend about Willie Nelson. Here is the legend, one final time:
If you aren't careful, Willie will take you down to the river and drown you.
Willie is an intense puller on the rhythm. Willie is such a puller that if you are playing music with him and aren't being really careful, he'll play so far behind the beat that you'll lose your sense of tempo altogether. If you don't have a grasp on the tempo of the song, you're done for.
This is what this legend is referring to: Drowning in the river means a sideman has lost his or her sense of the song's tempo altogether. Willie's bandmembers must be on guard at all times or else the song will fall apart.
And really, if you were playing music with Willie Nelson would you want to be anything less than awesome?
Please, leave me a comment!
Or, feel free to reach out to me.
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