This post is for the Buster Keaton Blogathon run from the Silent-ology blog.
I accompany silent movies. Four times a year, I accompany one for a live audience at the Plaistow, NH Library. In addition, I post public domain silent films with my accompaniment on YouTube. In just a few days I’ll accompany One Week as part of the library’s 25th anniversary in its present building. In July I’ll be accompanying The General at the library. In 2023 I accompanied Steamboat Bill, Jr.
My accompaniment is improvised. I devise some themes in advance and occasionally throw in an existing piece of music, but the way the music plays out will be almost completely different if I do it twice. Each movie requires its own style. For The Flying Ace, a 1920s film with an all-black cast, I went for a jazz style. For Peter Pan, most of the music was dreamlike, except for the action scenes.
Even among the classic silent comedians, I take different approaches to their movies. Chaplin’s Tramp lives in a world of his own, while Keaton’s characters generally grapple with real-world structions and succeed through perseverance. The music needs to reflect the kind of story.
Compare City Lights and Steamboat Bill, Jr.: Both are stories of a character’s progression, but Chaplin’s Tramp is always in a world of his own, while Keaton’s character strongly engages with the challenges of life. Each needs different kind of music. Let’s look at my accompaniment for One Week as an example. This was originally a livestreamed performance, and it starts with a discussion of how I accompany movies.
The opening scene features wedding bells, and I suggest their sound in the music. The overall mood is light and cheerful but with driving force. You’ll hear the first hint of a motif which I use all through the film. When Hank appears with a scowl, I provide some typical (even stereotypical) “villain” music.
I ramp up the energy for the part where Keaton gets into the wedding car, becomes annoyed with Hank as the driver, and tries to change cars while they’re both in motion. In both comedy and its musical accompaniment, timing is critical. The slapstick bit with the cop calls for some sharp accents to match the action. Some of the falls from the second story get loud glissandi. When I prepare for a silent film, I watch it a lot of times so I can get those accents in just the right place.
Keaton and his bride arrive at the lot where they’ve been promised a new home as a gift, only to discover that it’s in kit form. The motif which I hinted at earlier take the fore here. As they work on assembling the house, the music keeps its steady drive, with variations in mood to suit each moment. And, oh, yes, Hank is back with his music. (He ranges from annoying friend to villain.) The house starts to take a shape that’s all wrong, and the music gets correspondingly off-kilter.
For the piano delivery scene, I use a little actual classical music, from Beethoven’s “Hammerklavier” Sonata. It’s not a literal quotation, but rather fits in part of the sonata with my improvisation.
In due course we come to the housewarming party, where I provide music with a fast ragtime feeling. I introduce the storm with a suggestion of raindrops, then let it break out in full force with devices which I’ll admit are a bit clichéd. Originality isn’t the point of silent film accompaniment; setting the mood is, and familiar techniques work. When the whole house starts spinning around, what can I do but turn the music into a playful merry-go-round tune?
At the end, fate has the worst blow of all in store for Keaton and his bride, and I anticipate it slightly in the music. They walk away, intending to keep going somehow, and the music goes from minor to major with grim determination to wrap it up.
This determination is a key to his characters. No matter what happens — even a house falling over him — he stands his ground and won’t retreat. Chaplin’s characters are oblivious to what’s happening, and somehow that lets them survive or even win. We can also compare him to Harold Lloyd’s characters, who are more aggressive, more eager to pursue goals aggressively. Quick, what’s the first image that comes to your mind for each of these actors? With Keaton, it’s probably the house front collapsing over him. With Lloyd, it has to be the scene where he climbs a building. There are more choices for Chaplin; I’d go with the one where he eats a shoe in the Arctic. The music has to fit the characters and what they’re doing.
Keaton’s The General fits what I’ve just said about his characters. When the eponymous locomotive (one of his two great loves) is taken by Union soldiers to cut Confederate supply lines, he’s determined to get it back, and this time he succeeds. The problem is that the film is presented from a pro-Confederate viewpoint. It’s not Birth of a Nation, but we can’t ignore that Johnny Gray is helping a proto-nation grounded in slavery.
Accompaniment of this movie often uses Civil War songs from both sides. I’m inclined to avoid Confederate tunes such as “Dixie” and make sparing use of Union ones. But use of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” at some key points could remind the audience which side they should cheer. For the rest, I can provide generic military music where it’s appropriate. In the final scene, where Johnny is frantically saluting all the Confederate soldiers while trying to get in a tender moment with his fiancee, it won’t be out of place to make it sound a bit silly.
Each movie has its own musical needs. That’s what makes accompanying them fun.