Continuing my series on the elements of compelling entertainment--Plot, Character, Diction, Music, Theme, and Spectacle--I will cover Music. Last post, I wrote about Diction, the language of art. Diction’s job is to convey the shades of meaning, to impart understanding. In addition, Music is a part of an artist’s voice, but Music’s job is a hint different. It too carries meaning, but it’s a meaning beyond understanding. For instance, when we hear a sad song, we usually know it is sad even if we don’t know the words, and even when we don’t know why it is sad. Pairing strong words with the right music has birthed some of history’s most iconic art. Unlike Diction, It’s ok for Music--from time-to-time--to draw attention to itself. Poetry focuses largely on the Music element. And, movies are filled with great music montages. In fact, Amadeus places the music in position of a character.
Ultimately, all art has Music, and Music in not solely notes, chords, instruments and singing (although it surely includes these). Music is the tempo, the tone, the flow, and the pacing of a piece of art. So, how does Music impart meaning? How does an artist create effective Music for their work? That’s hard to explain. Take the beats of a song. If I were to tap on a single note, over and over again, I could call it a song. It would have tempo, tone, flow and pacing. It just wouldn’t be interesting. And, it’s not likely to carry meaning. Conversely, if I went to a piano, and violently slammed my hands against keys at will, the work would not be compelling--while it would certainly get attention--it would hold no meaning. If we compare a work to a good song, we can see how well it incorporates Music.
One element of a great song is its tempo. How fast are the beats? The tempo of a book is determined by sentence length, word choice, paragraph length, and chapter length. Short sentences and punchy words often convey more action or tension. Sentence fragments (perhaps not proper) scream, “Look at this!” Conversely, sweeping sentences, paragraph and chapters, with added phrases and clauses allow for rest, introspection. With movies, creators can add instrumentation and vocals to scenes in order to create mood evoking rhythms. In addition, other choices establish rhythm. The number of cuts within a given scene creates certain beats, i.e. back and forth shots as two characters are talking. Or the speed of a zoom. Fast zoom indicates urgency. Slow zoom suggests building tension. The struggle artists have finding the right rhythm is balancing familiarity with surprise. We should feel as if the beats belong together, yet not always know fully where they’re going. Variety is key, but the right variety is crucial. If a novel was written in nothing but eight syllable sentences, it would be boring. Same for a movie shot using only two static camera angles (though there are exceptions).
The next element of a great song is tone. You know, minor keys versus major keys. Where Diction is a matter of choosing word based on there meaning, Music focuses on choosing words based on the way the sound. Herein lies the struggle I often have, certain words I’d like to use often more accurately say what I want them to say, whereas a their counterparts sound more in line with the mood I’m going for (when in doubt, I usually side with Diction). With establishing tone, a gob fancy English words can help: alliteration, assonance, cacophony, euphony, onomatopoeia, etc. Besides adding physical music, movies can create tone through lighting, color, and film angles.
Flow is another important element in great Music. How well do the notes and chords transition? If there is a jarring shift, does it have a purpose? Books and movies also have a flow (whether good or bad). How well do words transition? How about sentences? Paragraph? Shots? Scenes? Tempo and tone changes? As I write these posts, I often find myself erasing and rewriting transition phrases (which all carry their own tones), trying to master flow. In college, I used therefore, moreover, consequently, etc. Now, I just go with the colloquial (yes, it’s not a colloquial word) and, but, yet, so, etc. I mean, figuring out how to transition is tough, but it’s an important factor for creating flow. Yet flow itself need variety. A straight line is a boring line. Is the flow a winding road, or and Indy car race track? And then, there are parentheticals--explanatory statement inserted into a passage--that play around with flow. Some people hate them. They say parentheticals disrupt flow. Others love them, saying they break up the monotony and add levity. Anyone who’s read anything of mine, should be able to gather where I stand on parentheticals (look here for more clues).
Last last element of great music is it’s pacing. If a song simply bounces back and forth between the same two riffs, it will get tiresome quite quickly. Music needs to build toward some sort of goal and emotional climax. Is there a crescendo or diminuendo? Within a scene or an entire work, the pacing should be constructed in such a manner as to point to its purpose. To intensify when needed. Rest where needed. When tempo, tone, and flow harmonize around unified goal, a work reaches its full Music potential. These are the movies we’d say are well paced. I’ll throw out an example of a movie that has compelling Music. The 1989 Batman. In fact, Tim Burton did such a great job with that movie’s Music, people often forget how ridiculous the plot is (Yes, it had great characters). From the very opening credits, the movie strikes these incredible beats. The lighting and set design carries a unique, dark, Gothic tone. This tone is really Burton’s voice. And, Musically speaking (not necessarily in its plot structure) the scene transitions flow so beautifully. The overall movie is so perfectly paced. I didn’t really care that much that most of the plot points didn’t make a lick of sense.
So…. Here's where I'm supposed to write a great concluding transition… Next post, Theme.
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