islanded in a stream of stars

Picture an asexual having an intellectual orgasm, and you'll have a good idea of what it was like to hear Jon Burlingame's presentation on the legendary film composer Elmer Bernstein (see the icon).

It feels hyperbolic yet somehow also reductionist to say that I owe a lot to Elmer Bernstein. I've said this before and I'll say it again: his score for To Kill A Mockingbird is what made me fall in love with film music. And if it weren't for To Kill A Mockingbird, I doubt that I wouldn't have written an essay good enough to be considered for my scholarship. In a strangely removed way, Elmer Bernstein has brought me to where I am now.

Burlingame gave one of the best talks I've been lucky enough to hear, sprinkling in personal anecdotes about the composer as well as serious background about the groundbreaking aspects of Bernstein's music. Burlingame balanced the fine line of introducing enough information to those unacquainted with the composer while engaging Bernstein fans with a behind the scenes look at film music history. Interspersed in Burlingame's talk were some appreciative comments from Bernstein's various collaborators in the film industry as well as a few interview clips with the composer himself. Sound and video clips from the scores he was discussing (including the only unofficial videorecording in existence of a number from Merlin) enhanced the lecture. I was intrigued to hear more about Bernstein's forays into scoring TV shows and documentaries, writing musicals (How Now, Dow Jones and Merlin) and composing concert works such as his Concerto for Guitar and Orchestra, commissioned by Christopher Parkening. Burlingame also touched upon Bernstein's "graylisted" period and his influence in allowing film and TV composers to retain the rights to their music. I had never realized the extent of Bernstein's involvement in the film and music industries and how beloved he was.

Some random, interesting things I took away from the talk: Bernstein's classic Magnificent Seven theme is actually based on his work on the Burt Reynolds TV show Riverboat, a sort of hybrid of his previous thematic material incorporated with Mexican folk music. Toccata for Toy Trains is easily one of the most delightful music compositions for documentaries I've ever heard. And James Coburn's remark that Bernstein did more for his career as a result of the memorability of the Magnificent Seven and the Great Escape made me smile.

Alas, my recap does no justice to Burlingame's storytelling skills and the real sense of who Bernstein was; it's no wonder that Burlingame is as great of a journalist as he is. Seriously, there were several other watery-eyed women at the end of the presentation; we were all that struck by Burlingame's whimsical depiction the composer. It's not too surprising, then, that Burlingame seems to have quite the fan club; at least five of the attendees had come on campus just for this event. I was the only undergraduate student present; the others in the audience seemed to be members of "Friends of the Doheny Library" speaker series.

I was so nervous introducing myself that I started talking in an accent. (I have no idea why. It was as if I was trying to do a parody of my mother's old BBC announcer accent.) It was amazing that he could figure out anything that I was saying at all.

If all goes well, I'll have coffee or lunch with Burlingame sometime in November and discuss film music, particularly the Man from UNCLE soundtracks. Hopefully by then my speech patterns will stick to the North American continent instead of drowning in the middle of the Atlantic.

[/pretentious fangirling]

(On a different note, I'm trying to think of sufficiently intelligent responses to all of your thought-provoking comments about the supergirl dilemna. I swear I'm not ignoring you!)