“The bee-loud glade” is from The Lake Isle at Innisfree by W.B. Yeats. It’s one of my favorite poems, and the first one I ever memorized. I’ve heard Yeats was inspired by the trancendental qualities of Emerson’s Walden. Perhaps most famously, it was read at JFK’s funeral, and the writing does have a strong elegiac tone.

But what I come away from the poem with is this: that through an attentiveness to what’s infront of us, we can create another world, whole and divine. Or maybe reveal is a better word – that this hidden world exists beneath all our daily trials and distractions. In any case, the solitude of the bee-loud glade is where I’m headed when I first sit down with picture and a blank stave.

My friend Genevieve Anderson, an wonderful artist and filmmaker, had this quote of Albert Camus’ pinned up over her desk:

“A person’s life purpose is nothing more than to rediscover, through the detours of art or love or passionate work, those one or two images in the presence of which their heart first opened.”

Yeats’ roadway, Camus’ detour are part of the same journey to me – listening and looking for that moment of recognition, of resonance and rediscovery, the signpost that leads back home to that cabin by the lake.

The Lake Isle at Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the mourning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

The Storm

Broken

Chixculub

Based on a story in the New Yorker by T.C. Boyle, exec produced by Wolfgang Petersen and shot in 35 mm on the Warner lot, this film was heady stuff to work on. But the best thing about Chicxulub was meeting and working with the director Malona Voigt.

Musically, she pushed for a minimalist aesthetic that could turn lush or violent in a split second. She knew what she wanted (some cues were approved on the first draft, while one cue went through over ten iterations), and she was always able to communicate her intent beautifully.

She’s also living proof that you don’t have to be aggressive or overbearing to make a great movie. Her strength comes from her thoughtfulness and her trust in the instincts of those she surrounds herself with. A great director, and great person.

Cleaning House

Rolling

Food Fight

Windows

Clipping Adam Suite

Adam’s Lullaby

A little gem by writer-director Michael Picchiottino, this bittersweet coming-of-age story features Chris Eigeman, Kevin Sorbo and Acadamy Award winner, Louise Fletcher. But first-time actor Evan Peters provides the heart of the film, a gentle and genuine warmth that took me back to my own childhood in Hawaii. The score reflects that, blending the more astringent qualities of a string quartet with guitar, ukulele, and a choir made up of 10 year olds who’d never sung before. And regarding that choir: while one might not think of that as a good thing, their sound was haunting, naive, and beautiful.

Beth and Max

Max on the Air

I’m Just Fine

Beth and Max Redux

Although the cues here might not sound like it, this film is actually a comedy, too (albeit a kinda brooding one). Lots of sly and po-mo media savvy references (the film itself is a riff on Annie Hall), but there’s a underlying loneliness and a subtle romantic streak that runs throughout. The soundtrack features a bucket load of indie-rocking source music, so director Van Flesher had me stick to the bitter-sweetest parts. One of my favorite things about the score was getting to play the melodica, featured here in the Beth & Max cues. They’re variations on a theme, less about love than the spaces around and the cracks within it .

Tharin

Night Watch

Boppin’ Redux

Open

Lydia & Adam

The Circle

God’s Beach

The score for God’s Beach was a miracle, coming at a difficult time in my life. The film itself had an arduous life (I was cautioned about taking it on due to it’s troubled past). And yet, when writer-director Abigail Carpenter showed me the picture and we talked for the first time, I knew I had to do this movie. I believe the resulting score was the only thing I was capable of creating at the time, and she gave me the space and encouragement to find it.

We played with “organic” sounds, finally settling on tuned wine glasses and pot lids struck and bowed as the basis of the score, and built from there. It remains one of my favorite works, not the least because of the amazing collaboration and direction that Abby provided.

Here’s her statement about the film:

I have always been fascinated and dedicated to telling organic and intelligent stories, stories about people, their relationships, and the eventual outcome of these interactions. In trying to describe the films that have an effect on me, I have come up with the term “slice of life” films. Films that are simple, that allow audiences to explore a piece of a character that calls to them, a story that we can all somehow connect to. I think the best films are the ones that fascinate us emotionally, that make us feel raw pleasure and pain.

God’s Beach is just that, raw pleasure and pain. The story centers around young girl’s tumultuous life growing up on a small island off the coast of Maine. It is a meditative and poignant story about loss, life-changing choices, and the moments that change you forever.

This film was one of those moments for me.

Oceanic

Against the Sea

The Catch

The Song

American Dream

Bedtime

Dreaming

The Caper

Dream Reprise

Joseph Mann’s American Dream is a sweet farce about a little girl who decides to rob a bank to save her family’s home. And while the film looks and plays like a classic single camera comedy, Joe wanted a score that was a little offbeat in terms of tone. So ukulele underpins the score along with some glockenspiel for good measure. The music is also based on a whole-tone scale motif, instead of the major scale that I might have used more conventionally.

Just a reminder that it’s not all gloom-n-doom around here.

Prelude

Coda

Red

White

Black

A documentary on the creation of a single painting by Guggenheim Fellow Judith Murray, this work was unusual in that I wrote it not to picture, but to pictures: actual paintings from Murray’s catalog. Director Mark Ledzian wanted me to stay with the heart of the work, interpret it musically, and edited around the result. So it was more like capital c Composing than scoring – not something I’m used to. A truly unique experience from an absolutely stunning source of inspiration. And to top it off, footage was shot by Mark and legendary documentarian Albert Maysles.