Before cinema
The question of synchronizing music to images goes beyond the comparison between so-called pure music and imitative music, also referred to as program music by musicologists. Pure music is understood as music that expresses nothing but itself, while imitative music is intended to convey a theme or argument to which the listener can relate.
This debate is not new. Plato already referenced it, and this issue has sparked numerous controversies throughout the history of music. However, what distinguishes musical illustration is that it is not a matter of determining whether we are dealing with pure or imitative music. What truly matters is the sensation experienced by the viewer when the combination of music and image produces a feeling that neither element could evoke on its own.
For example, Schubert’s Trio No. 2 Opus 100 (pure music), used in the film Barry Lyndon, becomes, by virtue of its juxtaposition with the image, a narrative element that will be remembered by many viewers as the music of Barry Lyndon. In this sense, the image interacts with the meaning of the music for a portion of the audience, particularly those who first encounter the musical work in the film. The examples of using pure music, symphonies, or sonatas in cinema are countless. In many cases, we can say that the image “vampirizes” the music, giving it a meaning it did not originally have.
Another striking example is György Ligeti’s Atmospheres in 2001: A Space Odyssey, which, in our opinion, paved the way for Drone Music. In production music terminology, “drone” has long been a key term referring to sustained chords or notes, also known as soundscapes.
The act of associating music with images predates the invention of cinema. It is possible that the symphonic poem, a musical genre for orchestra based on a literary, philosophical, pictorial, or descriptive theme, and a branch of so-called program music, is one of the earliest expressions of musical illustration. Isn’t the purpose of the symphonic poem to evoke a mental image, an imaginary scene? Even before the symphonic poem, incidental music, or music intended to underscore the drama in a play, opera, and later musicals, was another probable origin of the musical archetypes that shaped our musical imagination in relation to images.
See: Incidental music – Wikipedia
The idea of a relationship between music and images is also very present in the work of Claude Debussy, whose so-called impressionist music reveals, if only by its titles, a desire to musically transcribe sensations and images. “Reflections in the Water,” “Bells Through the Leaves,” and “Golden Fish” are examples from the series Images I and II.
See: Musique impressionniste – Wikipedia
However, it is cinema that most clearly highlighted the need to hear music simultaneously with the projection of images to evoke emotion, enhance the feeling, or emphasize the understanding of situations. Some have claimed that the primary function of music was to cover the noise of the projector. This is doubtful. How could an audience unfamiliar with cinematic conventions have understood a scenario or the emerging cinematic language without the fundamental contribution of music? Let’s not forget that this audience had already attended theatrical performances, especially melodramas, where music was an essential element of the narrative.
The experiment of replacing the music of a film scene with another that expresses the opposite is revealing of the deep role of music and the meaning it can bring in relation to images and dialogue.
Most of us remember the music that accompanied silent films: ragtime, or “torn time,” a popular American music style of the late 19th and early 20th centuries characterized by the use of syncopation. Initially a parlor music genre, often for piano, the use of ragtime in silent cinema coincided with the birth of what would become the 7th art but was still merely a fairground attraction. However, silent films also borrowed from the classical repertoire, and film accompanist pianists used themed collections adapted to predetermined situations like fights, chases, love scenes, etc., or for specific characters: the villain, the lover, etc. Along with improvisation, these thematic collections are among the earliest forms of musical illustration since, although not recorded, the music existed beforehand and was not composed specifically for the film.
Thus, in the early 20th century, composers began to write the very first music specifically designed for film illustration. As early as 1909, Thomas Edison Films published “Suggestions for Music,” and in 1913, Sam Fox Moving Picture Music published scores for the same purpose, both for soloists and orchestras. In 1912, Camille Saint-Saëns composed a score for “The Assassination of the Duke of Guise,” the first music written specifically for cinema. For more details on the development of production music in the United States, see the article “The History of Production Music” as well as the research of Paul Mandell, from which many of the insights here are drawn.
The History of Production Music
In France, in the early 20th century, the SACD (Société des Auteurs Compositeurs Dramatiques), founded in 1777 by Beaumarchais and the world’s first authors’ society, refused membership to film composers, not recognizing them as creators worthy of joining its ranks. On the other hand, the SACEM, founded in 1851, accepted them. This anecdote perfectly illustrates the reluctance, even lack of foresight, that institutions can sometimes show when new forms of creation emerge.