Lon Chaney as 'Phroso the Magician' and companion in 'West of Zanzibar' (1928).
Coming up: one final long weekend of Halloween-themed silent film screenings.
Highlights include accompanying a 35mm print of 'West of Zanzibar' (1928), the lurid Chaney/Browning thriller, on Saturday, Oct. 31, and no less than three screenings of Hitchcock's 'The Lodger' (1927).
But the spooky fun starts tonight with 'The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari' (1920) at Wellesley College, just outside Boston. Screening is at 6:30 p.m. at Collins Cinema in the Davis Museum Complex.
Admission is free; the film is part of retrospective on film-making of Weimar-era Germany. 'Cabinet' is a good choice this close to Halloween—the proto-Tim Burton set design alone is worth seeing this film, which probably seems more creepy today than it did when first released.
The twisted visual landscape of 'Caligari.'
One of the challenges of 'Caligari' is that the film has several instances of the title character ringing a sizable (and seemingly very loud) hand bell to attract attention from passersby in a carnival midway.
So for an accompanist, the question becomes: "Should I try to match the obvious on-screen action by ringing a real bell right there during the screening?"
In the case of Caligari, I do actually ring a bell. Specifically, it's a large clangy brass bell that once belonged to my grandmother. It makes quite a racket, and the cues in Caligari are easy to match, so I go for it.
Likewise in the case of the Keaton short 'The Haunted House,' where the ghost traffic is so heavy, Buster ends up playing traffic cop to control a busy hallway. To do this, he uses a whistle to signal stop and go, and blowing an actual whistle (while keeping the music going) helps punch up the gag, I think.
But if I'm unsure of where the cues might be, or if a sound effect might distract from the on-screen moment, I hold off on matching what are often literally the "bells and whistles."
Why? Because if you're even just a little bit off, it breaks the spell that a successful silent movie screening creates. Or if it's a key dramatic moment, you don't want to rob it of any significance by doing something unexpected in the accompaniment.
Anyway, it's my only screening of 'Caligari' this Halloween season, so come to Wellesley College tonight if you're hankering for a Halloween helping of German Expressionism.
Ivor Novello dressed to kill (really?) in Hitchcock's 'The Lodger.'
Then follows three screenings of Alfred Hitchcock's 'The Lodger' (1927), the title I've focused on for this Halloween cycle, having played for it twice already this month.
Let's see. The schedule looks like this:
• Thursday, Oct. 29, 2015, 7 p.m.: 'The Lodger'; Putnam Arts Lecture Hall, Keene State College, Keene, N.H. There's usually an admission charge for these screenings but I just checked and apparently this one is free and open to the public.
• Friday, Oct. 30, 2015, 7 p.m.: 'The Lodger'; Red River Theatres, 11 South Main St., Concord, N.H.; (603) 224-4600; http://www.redrivertheatres.org/. Great small non-profit venue that specializes in offbeat and independent films that otherwise wouldn't get shown in this part of the world. Admission $10 per person.
• Saturday, Oct. 31, 2015, 8 p.m.: 'The Lodger'; Leavitt Theatre, 259 Main St. Route 1, Ogunquit, Maine; (207) 646-3123; http://www.leavittheatre.com. The season-ending show in a vintage seaside resort one-screen theater that opened in 1923 and has barely changed since. Admission $10 per person.
That's a whole lot of Lodgers. But I think I have some good material in the style of Bernard Herrmann that helps bring out the "Hitchcock" qualities of the film, which can be found throughout this early feature from the director.
For more specifics about each screening, check the "Upcoming Silent Film Screenings" link at upper right.
But there's one more: 'West of Zanzibar' (1928), also on Saturday, Oct. 31.
A screening of the Chaney/Browning silent MGM thriller will open a 12-hour Halloween marathon of feature films, all shown in 35mm, at the Somerville Theatre, 55 Davis Square, Somerville, Mass. The marathon is on Halloween Day and runs from noon to midnight.
From what I understand, the 35mm print of 'Zanzibar' is exceptionally well struck and in great shape. Also, it's very difficult to source 35mm prints of any of the MGM/Chaney/Browning pictures, so this is an extremely rare chance to see 'Zanzibar' in its native film format, projected on the enormous screen of the Somerville Theater's vintage 1914 main house.
It's quite a privilege to do live music for a film as bizarre as 'Zanzibar,' with Chaney playing a magician paralyzed from the waist down and bent on revenge against the man who crippled him and stole his beloved—a 20-year quest that leads to a showdown in the remote jungles of Africa. Classic Tod Browning madness, with no less than Lionel Barrymore in a key role.
Lurid, twisted, dark—and perfect for Halloween.
The marathon program begins at noon with 'West of Zanzibar'; other titles (all in 35mm) include 'Dracula' (1931), 'The Monster That Challenged the World' (1957); 'Seconds' (1966); 'Aliens' (1986); and 'The Lost Boys' (1987). Admission is one price for the whole 12-hour program, with tickets $30 per person.
I urge any classic film buffs in the Boston or New England area to consider making a pilgrimage to the Somerville to experience 'West of Zanzibar' on the big screen in 35mm, as well as the other marathon titles, all under the watchful eye and legendarily exacting standards of head projectionist David Kornfeld. It's an event not to be missed.
And then comes November, which brings silent film gigs in California and Virginia, among other places. More on that after Halloween!
One other thought: I'm always eager for new ways to attract audiences to silent cinema. So the other day, a friend suggested promoting the Chaney film as an inspirational tale for the disabled.
Being differently abled didn't prevent him from realizing his dreams of revenge!
Er—still thinking about that one.
Showing posts with label Wellesley College. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wellesley College. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Adventures in silent film accompaniment:
snowbanks, orgies, and missing sustain pedals
Coming off a busy stretch of accompaniment leading up to the Kansas Silent Film Festival later this week. Here's a few snapshots from the life of a silent film accompanist based in northern New England.

• Today's screening of 'Bardelys the Magnificent' (1926) at the Wilton (N.H.) Town Hall Theatre went well, except the side entrance that I use to load my equipment in and out was blocked by a large snowbank that had been pushed up against the building, covering the stairs and partially blocking the door. The perils of performing in mid-winter New Hampshire! Seriously, it looked like that scene in 'The Gold Rush' where Chaplin shovels a huge pile snow from one business to another.
A stiff wind and temps in the 20s didn't make things any more pleasant. Fortunately, I wore my sensible winter shoes, so it didn't matter that much when my feet plunged down to mid-thigh while struggling to muscle in my synthesizer. It takes three trips for me to carry everything in, and each time the stiff wind banged shut the outside door, forcing me to go all the way around to the theater's main entrance. Ah, the glamour of the movies!
About 40 people were on hand for my first attempt at 'Bardelys.' I can tell when I'm overscheduled because I start to show up at screenings with nothing really prepared. That, alas, was the case with Bardelys, which offers a lot of potential for music, but I just wasn't in the zone through most of the film. I lucked out with one good melody that came to me on the way in, and that carried most of the picture. A harpsichord setting I used seemed to stomp on any on-screen subtleties, and about two-thirds of the way through I switched over to my fallback orchestral setting.
The music all seemed pretty sloppy to my taste, and I was concerned that audience reaction seemed to die down quite a bit after John Gilbert met Eleanor Boardman. So, near the end, I was pleasantly surprised (and a bit relieved) when the room erupted in cheers during Gilbert's exuberant escape from the gallows. Even theater owner Dennis Markaverich said afterwards he "laughed my ass off" at Gilbert grabbing a curtain and using it as a parachute, something Douglas Fairbanks hadn't thought to do just yet.

• A much more satisfying screening took place on Valentine's Day (Thursday, Feb. 14), when we screened Harold Lloyd's 'Girl Shy' (1924) in 35mm at the Somerville Theatre in Somerville, Mass. About 100 people turned out for this show, which had Lloyd's short 'Never Weaken' (1921) as an opener. I knew we had them when, in 'Never Weaken,' they laughed uproariously at Lloyd consulting the dictionary to make sure his suicide note is spelled correctly. (It is a very funny scene.) Lloyd's subsequent antics on the steel skeleton of a skyscraper under construction produced shrieks and gasps just as he intended.
For the music, I used just a traditional organ setting for the short, in part to make the full orchestral settings for the feature seem that much more grand by comparison. For 'Never Weaken,' a jaunty tune I've used here and there proved all I needed to carry all the action up until the suicide sequence, which I punched up by turning serious (minor key, repeated notes) and then going silent to underscore his thinking and reactions, which made room for the laughs. And for the skyscraper sequence, I reverted back to the jaunty tune for the rooftop jazz band that gives Harold a rude awakening, but then kept it low for much of his mid-air antics, again to make sure the audience could hear itself react.
It all came together wonderfully, I thought, especially with me plugged into the Somerville's house sound system. I switched to the full orchestra for 'Girl Shy,' but muffed the beginning because it just came up so fast. But it came together nicely, with scene after scene falling into place. A few rough spots happened in the train sequence and when Jobyna Ralston's car breaks down, but by then the film had them and it didn't matter so much.
Things really got fun when Harold returns to the publisher and all the female office staff go crazy over him. What laughter! For underscoring, I just used the main rhythm and melody from the Habanara of Bizet's Carmen, which lent just the right touch of mockery to the scene, I thought. And the reaction was again strong when Harold receives an envelope in the mail that he thinks is a rejection letter, but which we know contains a check. As Harold motions to rip it, people behind me shouted "NO! DON'T DO IT!" When he actually did rip it, he was accompanied not by music, but by groans of anguish that filled the theater.
At this point, the energy never let up. Next thing you know, Harold and his uncle are piecing together the check. $3,000! Hooray! Then Harold looks at the newspaper and sees his sweetheart is getting married that day. Oh no! Then the man's "other wife" wanders in, sees the wedding announcement, and exclaims, "Someone should stop it for the girl's sake!" Guess who that someone is? Hooray again, as Harold dashes from the tailor shop, this time vowing to make it to the church on time.
I just can't describe the excitement in the theater by this time. It had built up to a point where I think it actually worked against some of Harold's gags early on in the chase, because we want him to be making progress. Example: the guy teaching his girl to drive, which causes frustration for Harold as they repeatedly stop and start and go in circles. The audience stopped laughing during this, and I think it's because everyone wanted him to just get going. It's the same reason Keaton cut the "underwater traffic cop" gag from 'The Navigator'—by that part of the story, the audience couldn't tolerate comedy just for comedy's sake, because the gal is in danger.
Harold quickly recovered, and so did the audience. And by the time he was whipping a horse-drawn wagon through downtown, everyone was totally into it. Scoring this was a ball—I was able to keep things relatively light for most of the time, which allowed audience members to hear each other and really helped the overall reaction, I think. For the last few minutes, people were spontaneously shouting at Harold to 'HURRY UP!' It just doesn't get any better than that, folks.
One challenge of 'Girl Shy' is the intercutting between Harold's mad dash and the placid pre-wedding scenes at the church. These happen at various intervals, and I did my best to "feel" them coming and change the music on the fly. (There's one particularly tough place where Harold is on a motorcycle and has gone through a grocery store, and we swap back and forth several times quite rapidly.) But once Harold is on the horse-drawn wagon, the cuts come so frequently that it wouldn't make sense to change the music, so instead I just kept pounding away, working my way up the keyboard with repeated notes in the left hand and Harold's driving melody in the bass. I think it makes for really effective cinema.
I'm pleased to say that after 'Girl Shy' finished, I got a bona fide standing ovation, and in Boston, too! It was totally thrilled and rewarding and gratifying, and I very much appreciated all the folks who came up afterwards to get my card, ask questions, and offer congratulations. One woman even asked if I would consider being part of a burlesque show! (To play music in, not dance.)
Afterwards, I dashed off a note to a friend that made me realize some things about the experience of doing live music like that. Get a load of this:
• Lots of other things. Our local television station, WMUR-TV Channel 9, is doing a piece on me for their half-hour feature program "New Hampshire Chronicle." This required me to spend four hours in the Wilton Town Hall Theatre on Tuesday, Feb. 12 to be interviewed, and for them to get scenes of me in action. I think they shot enough footage so that even Eric von Stroheim would be satisfied! But seriously, I'm looking forward to the segment, which I'm told will air sometime near the end of the month. We'll see how I feel after I said it. We'll see if what veteran CBS News reporter George Herman said about me is true: that I have "a good head for television."

• On Monday, Feb. 11, I had the pleasure of doing 'Metropolis' (1927) for students in a film history course at Southern New Hampshire University taught by my friend and colleague Bill Millios. This took place in a computer lab (all the school's theater-type classrooms were booked) but something about it clicked and it turned into one of the most satsifying scores I've produced in awhile. The students stayed with it from start to finish; one of them said in a note to Bill:

• I had a ball doing music for 'Aelita, Queen of Mars' (1924) at Wellesley College, which was still digging itself out from under the Blizzard of 2013 at the time of our screening on Sunday, Feb. 10. What a crazy film! I would have to say that the last 20 minutes rank as some of the most bizarre filmmaking of the entire silent film era. Best intertitle: "Follow our example, comrades! Form the Federal Socialist Republic of Mars!"
One interesting thing at that screening was that a film print of the newly restored 'A Trip to the Moon' had not arrived due to the storm, so we showed an earlier restoration on the Flicker Alley DVD with recorded music, and then a 16mm print from Blackhawk (missing the full ending) with me doing live music. Never had to accompany the same film after recorded music, but there's a first time for everything, I guess.

• And then prior to that, I did Rudolph Valentino in 'The Eagle' at the Flying Monkey in Plymouth, N.H., and Gilbert and Garbo in 'Love' at the Manchester (N.H.) City Library, which was more than enough for Valentine's Day. Next year I think I'll counterprogram with a film like Keaton's 'Spite Marriage' (1929). And before that, there was a Keaton program for which the wife and I drove 300 miles to New York state and back. All that in February, and it's only the 17th. Sheesh!

• Today's screening of 'Bardelys the Magnificent' (1926) at the Wilton (N.H.) Town Hall Theatre went well, except the side entrance that I use to load my equipment in and out was blocked by a large snowbank that had been pushed up against the building, covering the stairs and partially blocking the door. The perils of performing in mid-winter New Hampshire! Seriously, it looked like that scene in 'The Gold Rush' where Chaplin shovels a huge pile snow from one business to another.
A stiff wind and temps in the 20s didn't make things any more pleasant. Fortunately, I wore my sensible winter shoes, so it didn't matter that much when my feet plunged down to mid-thigh while struggling to muscle in my synthesizer. It takes three trips for me to carry everything in, and each time the stiff wind banged shut the outside door, forcing me to go all the way around to the theater's main entrance. Ah, the glamour of the movies!
About 40 people were on hand for my first attempt at 'Bardelys.' I can tell when I'm overscheduled because I start to show up at screenings with nothing really prepared. That, alas, was the case with Bardelys, which offers a lot of potential for music, but I just wasn't in the zone through most of the film. I lucked out with one good melody that came to me on the way in, and that carried most of the picture. A harpsichord setting I used seemed to stomp on any on-screen subtleties, and about two-thirds of the way through I switched over to my fallback orchestral setting.
The music all seemed pretty sloppy to my taste, and I was concerned that audience reaction seemed to die down quite a bit after John Gilbert met Eleanor Boardman. So, near the end, I was pleasantly surprised (and a bit relieved) when the room erupted in cheers during Gilbert's exuberant escape from the gallows. Even theater owner Dennis Markaverich said afterwards he "laughed my ass off" at Gilbert grabbing a curtain and using it as a parachute, something Douglas Fairbanks hadn't thought to do just yet.

• A much more satisfying screening took place on Valentine's Day (Thursday, Feb. 14), when we screened Harold Lloyd's 'Girl Shy' (1924) in 35mm at the Somerville Theatre in Somerville, Mass. About 100 people turned out for this show, which had Lloyd's short 'Never Weaken' (1921) as an opener. I knew we had them when, in 'Never Weaken,' they laughed uproariously at Lloyd consulting the dictionary to make sure his suicide note is spelled correctly. (It is a very funny scene.) Lloyd's subsequent antics on the steel skeleton of a skyscraper under construction produced shrieks and gasps just as he intended.
For the music, I used just a traditional organ setting for the short, in part to make the full orchestral settings for the feature seem that much more grand by comparison. For 'Never Weaken,' a jaunty tune I've used here and there proved all I needed to carry all the action up until the suicide sequence, which I punched up by turning serious (minor key, repeated notes) and then going silent to underscore his thinking and reactions, which made room for the laughs. And for the skyscraper sequence, I reverted back to the jaunty tune for the rooftop jazz band that gives Harold a rude awakening, but then kept it low for much of his mid-air antics, again to make sure the audience could hear itself react.
It all came together wonderfully, I thought, especially with me plugged into the Somerville's house sound system. I switched to the full orchestra for 'Girl Shy,' but muffed the beginning because it just came up so fast. But it came together nicely, with scene after scene falling into place. A few rough spots happened in the train sequence and when Jobyna Ralston's car breaks down, but by then the film had them and it didn't matter so much.
Things really got fun when Harold returns to the publisher and all the female office staff go crazy over him. What laughter! For underscoring, I just used the main rhythm and melody from the Habanara of Bizet's Carmen, which lent just the right touch of mockery to the scene, I thought. And the reaction was again strong when Harold receives an envelope in the mail that he thinks is a rejection letter, but which we know contains a check. As Harold motions to rip it, people behind me shouted "NO! DON'T DO IT!" When he actually did rip it, he was accompanied not by music, but by groans of anguish that filled the theater.
At this point, the energy never let up. Next thing you know, Harold and his uncle are piecing together the check. $3,000! Hooray! Then Harold looks at the newspaper and sees his sweetheart is getting married that day. Oh no! Then the man's "other wife" wanders in, sees the wedding announcement, and exclaims, "Someone should stop it for the girl's sake!" Guess who that someone is? Hooray again, as Harold dashes from the tailor shop, this time vowing to make it to the church on time.
I just can't describe the excitement in the theater by this time. It had built up to a point where I think it actually worked against some of Harold's gags early on in the chase, because we want him to be making progress. Example: the guy teaching his girl to drive, which causes frustration for Harold as they repeatedly stop and start and go in circles. The audience stopped laughing during this, and I think it's because everyone wanted him to just get going. It's the same reason Keaton cut the "underwater traffic cop" gag from 'The Navigator'—by that part of the story, the audience couldn't tolerate comedy just for comedy's sake, because the gal is in danger.
Harold quickly recovered, and so did the audience. And by the time he was whipping a horse-drawn wagon through downtown, everyone was totally into it. Scoring this was a ball—I was able to keep things relatively light for most of the time, which allowed audience members to hear each other and really helped the overall reaction, I think. For the last few minutes, people were spontaneously shouting at Harold to 'HURRY UP!' It just doesn't get any better than that, folks.
One challenge of 'Girl Shy' is the intercutting between Harold's mad dash and the placid pre-wedding scenes at the church. These happen at various intervals, and I did my best to "feel" them coming and change the music on the fly. (There's one particularly tough place where Harold is on a motorcycle and has gone through a grocery store, and we swap back and forth several times quite rapidly.) But once Harold is on the horse-drawn wagon, the cuts come so frequently that it wouldn't make sense to change the music, so instead I just kept pounding away, working my way up the keyboard with repeated notes in the left hand and Harold's driving melody in the bass. I think it makes for really effective cinema.
I'm pleased to say that after 'Girl Shy' finished, I got a bona fide standing ovation, and in Boston, too! It was totally thrilled and rewarding and gratifying, and I very much appreciated all the folks who came up afterwards to get my card, ask questions, and offer congratulations. One woman even asked if I would consider being part of a burlesque show! (To play music in, not dance.)
Afterwards, I dashed off a note to a friend that made me realize some things about the experience of doing live music like that. Get a load of this:
Wow, about last night. Wish you could have somehow been there. Things really fell into place, with a large audience that really reacted to the experience, and the music seemed to flow out of me so naturally and easily.The only wrong note in the melody was that shortly after the start of 'Girl Shy,' I kicked my sustain pedal into the Somerville's cavernous orchestra pit. I was still attached to the synthesizer, but I had not way to retrieve it, other than ceasing to play and then hoisting it up. I decided I could do without it, and I did, but that's the first time it ever got away from me like that.
So to me, it was like this great communal orgy in which everyone kept their clothes on (as far as I know), but was in the dark and filled with intense physical releases such as laughing and shrieking.
At 'The End,' I finished with a bang as the lights came up, and then got a prolonged standing ovation! Wow, who doesn't want to receive a standing O after such an intimate experience? :)
Afterwards, I had a lot of people come up to say hi, including one woman who asked if I wanted to be in a burlesque show! She meant it in terms of playing music, but you can imagine what this whole conversation did to my already sexed-up imagination.
• Lots of other things. Our local television station, WMUR-TV Channel 9, is doing a piece on me for their half-hour feature program "New Hampshire Chronicle." This required me to spend four hours in the Wilton Town Hall Theatre on Tuesday, Feb. 12 to be interviewed, and for them to get scenes of me in action. I think they shot enough footage so that even Eric von Stroheim would be satisfied! But seriously, I'm looking forward to the segment, which I'm told will air sometime near the end of the month. We'll see how I feel after I said it. We'll see if what veteran CBS News reporter George Herman said about me is true: that I have "a good head for television."

• On Monday, Feb. 11, I had the pleasure of doing 'Metropolis' (1927) for students in a film history course at Southern New Hampshire University taught by my friend and colleague Bill Millios. This took place in a computer lab (all the school's theater-type classrooms were booked) but something about it clicked and it turned into one of the most satsifying scores I've produced in awhile. The students stayed with it from start to finish; one of them said in a note to Bill:
"And thank you for inviting Jeff Rapsis to come in and play live music for "Metropolis"; I've been interested in learning about the history of silent films, but this was the first time I've ever seen a feature-length silent film and I was completely blown away!Wow, I'll have to tell Bill to give that gal an A.
I think I was more wrapped up in "Metropolis" than I have ever been with any movie I've seen before; I think the live music really pulled me into the movie and helped draw me into the film's world. Thanks again!"

• I had a ball doing music for 'Aelita, Queen of Mars' (1924) at Wellesley College, which was still digging itself out from under the Blizzard of 2013 at the time of our screening on Sunday, Feb. 10. What a crazy film! I would have to say that the last 20 minutes rank as some of the most bizarre filmmaking of the entire silent film era. Best intertitle: "Follow our example, comrades! Form the Federal Socialist Republic of Mars!"
One interesting thing at that screening was that a film print of the newly restored 'A Trip to the Moon' had not arrived due to the storm, so we showed an earlier restoration on the Flicker Alley DVD with recorded music, and then a 16mm print from Blackhawk (missing the full ending) with me doing live music. Never had to accompany the same film after recorded music, but there's a first time for everything, I guess.

• And then prior to that, I did Rudolph Valentino in 'The Eagle' at the Flying Monkey in Plymouth, N.H., and Gilbert and Garbo in 'Love' at the Manchester (N.H.) City Library, which was more than enough for Valentine's Day. Next year I think I'll counterprogram with a film like Keaton's 'Spite Marriage' (1929). And before that, there was a Keaton program for which the wife and I drove 300 miles to New York state and back. All that in February, and it's only the 17th. Sheesh!
Sunday, January 13, 2013
My Mid-Winter Big City Tour:
A quartet of silent films in Beantown
In my part of the world, the big city is BOSTON. It's about an hour south of here by car, unless you're driving there during the morning rush, in which case you should budget three hours. (No kidding! Just look at the bus schedules.)
As I've tried to build my proficiency at creating live music for silent films, I've become more eager to get gigs down in Boston, otherwise known to us as Beantown or, more grandly, "the HUB of the UNIVERSE."
Whatever you call it, around here it's the big time—New England's world-class city, a center of finance, culture, education, research, medicine, technology, and hopelessly obsessed sports fans. (And starting last year, non-stop flights to Tokyo on the new 787, when the plane isn't catching fire.)
I've had a few gigs in Boston. But for some reason, recently the stars came together to bring me no less than four screenings in four separate venues in the coming month. A quartet of silent film diversity! And though it wasn't planned this way, I'm thinking of it as my "Mid-Winter Big City Tour," with silent films filling up that dead space in the calendar between MLK Day and Valentines Day.
Truth by told, even if this had actually been planned, it would seem pretty random. But still, I was impressed enough by the synchronicity of the bookings (they just happened!) to send out a press release today to the Boston media that reads like this:
Bessie Love is menaced by a prehistoric creature in 'The Lost World' (1925), a silent film to be screened with live music by Jeff Rapsis on Friday, Jan. 18 at the Westin Boston Waterfront as part of the 2013 Arisia Science Fiction and Fantasy Convention.
SUNDAY, JAN. 13, 2013 / FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact Jeff Rapsis • (603) 236-9237 • jeffrapsis@gmail.com
On the big (and silent) screen: Dinosaurs, Satan, Mars, and Romance
In mid-winter Boston area tour, silent film musical accompanist to bring four rarely seen movies to life
BOSTON—When silent film musician Jeff Rapsis sits down to accompany a feature film, there's a reason he brings no sheet music.
That's because Rapsis improvises complete movie scores from scratch, making up the music on the spot as the film runs. As a result, he's never sure how the music will go until the movie is run in real time with an audience.
"It's a high wire act, but I find that improvising music live adds a special kind of energy and immediacy to a silent film," Rapsis said. "It helps bridge the gap between a film that's eight or nine decades old and today's audiences."
In the coming weeks, Rapsis will take his brand of improvisational silent film scoring to four separate Boston area venues for screenings of a quartet of classics from cinema's silent era. The films include Hollywood's first "dinosaur" feature, an adaptation of the 'Faust' legend from director F.W. Murnau, a Russian science fiction film involving a rebellion on Mars, and a rollicking romantic comedy from Harold Lloyd to be screened on Valentine's Day in 35mm.
"They're four very different movies," Rapsis said. "But having them all available for viewing in the next month is a rare chance for Boston-area film fans to experience the breadth and range of early cinema as it was intended: on the big screen, with live music, and with an audience."
The screenings will take place in four locations as diverse as the films themselves:
• On Friday, Jan. 18 at 10 p.m., Rapsis will accompany the original 1925 silent film version of 'The Lost World,' Arthur Conan Doyle's story of a land where prehistoric animals still roam. The screening is a highlight of the film program at this year's Arisia Science Fiction and Fantasy Convention, which runs from Friday, Jan. 18 to Monday, Jan. 21 at the Westin Boston Waterfront.
'The Lost World' will be shown in 16mm in the Weston's Harborside Ballroom 3, which will function as the convention's cinema. The screening is open to registered Arisia attendees; more information can be found at www.arisia.org.
Emil Jannings stars as Mephisto in 'Faust' (1926), a silent feature directed by F.W. Murnau to be shown with live music by Jeff Rapsis on Wednesday, Jan. 23 as part of the 'Dead of Winter: Satan on Screen' series at the Brattle Cinema, 40 Brattle St., Cambridge, Mass.
• On Wednesday, Jan. 23 at 7 p.m., Rapsis will accompany F.W. Murnau's 'Faust' (1926) at the Brattle Cinema, 40 Brattle St., Cambridge, Mass. 'Faust,' an ambitious and visually stunning adaptation of the Faust legend, stars Emil Jannings and was the last film that Murnau directed in Germany before moving to Hollywood in 1927.
'Faust,' part of the Brattle's ongoing "Dead of Winter: Satan on Screen" series, will be paired with a screening of 'Witchcraft Through the Ages,' to be shown at 5:15 p.m. and repeated at 9:30 p.m. 'Faust' will be screened from a remastered digital transfer. Admission for the double feature is $12 general admission. For more information, call the Brattle at (617) 876-6837 or visit www.brattlefilm.org.
• On Sunday, Feb. 10 at 3 p.m., Rapsis will accompany 'Aelita, Queen of Mars' (1924), a Russian science fiction film as part of the 'Cinephile Sunday' series at Wellesley College in Wellesley, Mass. 'Aelita,' directed by Soviet filmmaker Yakov Protazanov, is notable for it constructivist sets; its design influenced pictures ranging from 'Metropolis' (1927) to the Flash Gordon serials.
The program also includes the short French film 'A Trip to the Moon' (1902) by pioneer moviemaker George Méliès. The screenings will take place in Collins Cinema, located in the Davis Museum complex of Wellesley College, 106 Central St., Wellesley, Mass. The program is free and open to the public.
Harold Lloyd takes matters into his onw hands in 'Girl Shy' (1924), a silent romantic comedy to be screened in 35mm with live music by Jeff Rapsis on Valentine's Day, Thursday, Feb. 14 at 7:30 p.m. at the Somerville Theatre, 55 Davis Square, Somerville, Mass.
• On Thursday, Feb. 14 at 7:30 p.m., Rapsis will accompany 'Girl Shy' (1924), Harold Lloyd's effervescent romantic comedy, in the main theater of the Somerville Theatre, 55 Davis Square, Somerville, Mass. 'Girl Shy,' one of Lloyd's most popular features, will be screened with Lloyd's 'Never Weaken' (1921), a short comedy. Both films will be shown in 35mm. General admission is $15 per person. For more info, call the Somerville at (617) 625-5700 or visit www.somervilletheatreonline.com.
In accompanying films, Rapsis tries to subvert the stereotype of silent movie music as "rinky-tink" melodies played on an out-of-tune piano. Instead, he uses a digital synthesizer to recreate the texture of a full orchestra, and aims to create music that sounds like what today's audiences expect to hear when they attend a movie.
"I don't limit myself to authentic music of the silent film era," Rapsis said. "Today, we've all grown up hearing movie music by composers such as Bernard Hermann, John Williams and so many others. In bringing a silent film to life for modern audiences, I try to use the full vocabulary of scoring that's developed over time. I think this helps today's audiences really connect with a silent film, instead of regarding it as a museum piece or a mere curiosity of bygone days."
Rapsis, a resident of Bedford, N.H., performs at about 80 screenings each year, mostly around his home base in Northern New England but also at events such as the Kansas Silent Film Festival (February 2013), the Cinefest Vintage Film Festival in Syracuse, N.Y. (March 2013), and the Carnegie Center for the Performing Arts in Covington, Ky. (May 2013).
A lifelong silent film buff, Rapsis believes that the true value of Hollywood's early films can only be appreciated if they're screened as originally intended: on the big screen, with live music, and with an audience present.
"These factors were baked into the films by the people who conceived and created them," Rapsis said. "They weren't designed to be watched alone or on a home entertainment center. They were intended to be communal experiences. The bigger the audience, the better."
Rapsis said his accompaniment experiences have convinced him of how essential all these elements are to silent film.
"And I've seen it happen again and again—a film that seems only mildly interesting when viewed alone just leaps to life on the big screen, with live music and an audience," he said. "Somehow the comedy seems funnier, the drama seems more dramatic, and the action scenes seem more exciting. It was really all part of the experience, which is quite different from what today's movies offer."
Each of the four films being screened in the Boston area —'The Lost World' (1925), 'Faust' (1926), 'Aelita, Queen of Mars' (1924) and 'Girl Shy' (1924) — are proven crowd-pleasers when they're shown they way they were intended, Rapsis said.
"There's still a lot of excitement and power in these early films, if they're shown under the right conditions," Rapsis said. "And it's worth doing because the films are entertaining and in many cases ripe for rediscovery. Also, they provide a sense of why people first fell in love with the movies. Also, with the passage of time, they've become a window to the recent past of a few generations ago — a way to see how much we've changed, and how much we haven't."
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