As part of , Professor Ilya Poletaev has something special in store for film buffs and music lovers alike! He will draw on his mastery of the piano, harpsichord, and organ to improvise a musical score to the classic silent film Der mĂĽde Tod (1921). Details about the event:
- Date and time: September 30, 2023 @ 7:30 p.m.
- Location: Pollack Hall, Strathcona Music Building, 555 Sherbrooke Street O.
- Price: Free Admission! No tickets required!
In the early days of cinema, film producers often relied on local pianists or orchestras to improvise film scores live, in the theatre, resulting in a unique experience for everyone in attendance. On September 30, audiences can participate in this cinematic and musical tradition.
In this Q&A, Professor Poletaev tells us about the unique challenge of improvising a film score, how music students can begin exploring the world of improvisation, and how a film from the early 20th century continues to resonate today.
At this year’s Journées de la culture, you’ll be improvising a score to the film Der müde Tod (1921) – a task that might seem daunting to the uninitiated. What attracts you to this musical challenge?
You know, for 99% of our performing lives, as classical musicians, we are playing (with a lot of pleasure, obviously) music that was written by others. And I always was a little bit uncomfortable having only this kind of third-person relationship with the process of making music and with one's instruments. For me, improvisation is a chance to find my own voice on the instrument, and to use my imagination in ways that I cannot do in the same way as when I'm playing repertoire written by someone else.
And what I found is that the visual element of film is a wonderful stimulant for the imagination. It’s a marvellous thing to be able to use music and yourself as a conduit to communicate and to promote the emotions and the message that are projected on the big screen.
What do you look for in a film you’re planning to score, and how do you prepare for this kind of performance?
What I find really attractive in any film is, first of all, a good story – a story that touches one on an emotional level, and a visual language which is rich and stimulating in ways that cannot be easily translated into words. So, for that reason, I'm very much attracted to silent film, where the visual imagery is everything, and particularly to the work of German Expressionist directors, such as Fritz Lang, W. Murnau. and others, where the visual element and the striking inventiveness that they bring to the screen are really fantastic. In terms of preparation, I want to understand the structure of the film, the way it is put together, its pacing, the relationship between characters, and of course everything about its visual style. You have to know the film extremely thoroughly in order to accompany it meaningfully, instead of providing a generic musical background, or playing random stuff that sort of “fits”. The music must make clear the emotional arc of the film, its energies, and even subtext!
You’re known for your talents on the harpsichord, organ, and piano, often switching between them mid-performance – but they each have distinct timbres and feels. How do you approach each instrument and adapt your playing accordingly?
Well, I've been playing the harpsichord since age 15, and fortepiano and chamber organ from about the same age. So, for me, it now feels quite natural to simply have different techniques and different ways of treating each instrument. Each one needs its own interpretive and technical language. There is very little that is translated from the piano to the harpsichord and vice versa, except the fact that you use your hands and fingers to play. At this point, for me, it's not a difficult thing to do. But I'm always aware that I'm speaking a different instrumental dialect, and must respect its qualities and boundaries.
As a professional musician and a long-time professor at Schulich, what is it about music and teaching that keeps you inspired and motivated?
What keeps me inspired and motivated is, first of all, contact with young, talented musicians who come here, and the opportunity and privilege to help them discover themselves, to help them discover music, and to help them find their place in this world – which is becoming very, very difficult for anybody who does classical music. And obviously, the fact that I can share with them the music that I love, what I admire about it; to give them the skills, confidence, and opportunity to find their own voice and to expand their horizons, hopefully, in ways that perhaps wouldn't have happened if they were not here.
What advice do you have for students hoping to become better improvisers?
Well, the first thing I would say is not to be afraid. A lot of people, when they hear the word “improvise,” they freeze. And I think that's really unfortunate. I think anybody who has musical talent has some ability to improvise. Some people are more adept at it, some are more modest in their abilities. But I think that it's something that can be developed and must absolutely be encouraged and nurtured.
I think that having the experience of improvising can be very liberating. It puts you in a different relationship with your instrument, with the printed page, and with the very act of playing in ways that somebody who never had improvised will not easily replicate. And it is important to remember that throughout most of Western music's history, there was a very strong improvisational component to the act of performance. Furthermore, in the majority of traditional musical cultures around the world, improvisation is actually the fundamental thing that is done, not reading from a score things that were written a long time ago.
How did you discover silent film and what films do you consider and essential viewing for any film lover?
Silent film is not something that I grew up with, but I became extremely fond of it thanks to my acquaintance and friendship with the esteemed Quebec musician Gabriel Thibaudeau, who is a renowned composer and film pianist. Through him, I discovered this world. Thanks to him, I was also fortunate in 2019 to have taken part in what is undoubtedly the world’s greatest silent film festival, Le Giornate del Cinema Muto in Pordenone, Italy, where I met and heard many other wonderful musicians who specialize in this difficult art!
I feel that the foundation of the visual language of everything that we see today, in the media, any kind of visual expression in film can be traced back to these first 30-odd years of early cinema, from 1895 to 1927, when synchronized sound appeared. This was also a time of tremendous social and cultural change, ferment, and upheaval. The art of film in those 30 years made astronomical leaps, from films that today seem quaint and perhaps rather simplistic, to complex and enduring masterworks of art.
I would say that in every school of cinema – French, German, Italian, Danish, American, Russian, Japanese - there are key silent films that made history, and it's hard to choose one or two. Anybody who enters this world also enters a world of culture that, though it seems far away, is actually just around the corner. It's only about one hundred years back, just barely within reach of a single human lifespan. So, if we want to understand our complex present, looking into this repertory of early film can help us understand a lot about what we are seeing today, both in contemporary culture, and in our chaotic reality.
And what music would you consider “essential listening” for a music fan, across any genre?
It's a very difficult question, because these days the idea of a canon is being shoved out the door. I don't agree with that. But at the same time, it's very hard to point to one or two things and say, “Well, this is absolutely essential to the exclusion of other music.” The works of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, Schumann, Debussy, Monteverdi, and many, many others remain essential to my musical wellbeing. And I hope that through my performances and teaching, I would pass on my appreciation for this music, and I certainly hope that listeners do not run away from what is considered canonical. Because even though it's canonical, it's still very, very beautiful.
What else can you tell us about the film you’ll be accompanying on September 30?
It's a 1921 film by Fritz Lang. In German, it's called Der müde Tod, “The Tired Death.” And in English, it was given the title Destiny, although originally the title was Behind the Wall. And it's a fable set in various places around the globe and various historical periods. A young betrothed couple on their way to be wed meets a stranger, and the stranger is Death. Death abducts the groom, and the distraught bride is looking for her beloved, and eventually finds her way into the realm of Death and asks for her beloved to be returned.
And without going into too much detail, Death takes pity on her and sets her a number of challenges, which then she faces across history in the Middle East, in Imperial China, and in medieval Venice. I will not give away the ending, of course – but the film shows some eternal themes of love and courage and struggle against the background of very different landscapes, some of which are rendered with real historical accuracy. And some of which, of course, are more fantastical, and are not really meant to be representations of the specific cultures they evoke, but they're not done with condescension, or with any kind of inherent superiority or racist intent. It's simply a way of telling a story in 1921, and a fable, at that, not a realistic story.
One might ask, why did I choose to present a film about death? It seems like a grim topic, to be sure. I find that today, at our particular historical juncture, we live in a very, very difficult period, in some way comparable to the turmoil which was enveloping the world just after the First World War. It was a time of economic unrest, of political unrest, of uncertainty, of challenges that were very hard to overcome. And this film, dark as it may be – although it has quite wonderful comical moments in some places – I think it has a message of a certain kind of fortitude, a strength that endures despite all difficulties and hardships. I think it's healthy for everyone to think about death. Although on Sept 30 it will look on to us from a safe distance of a silver screen, it’s still cathartic to meet it face to face, so to speak, and to see how human beings can resist its fateful stare.
