4 July 2005
Based On A True Story
In discussing the overall concept for the Brothers In Arms: Road To Hill 30 score, the project audio producer, David McGarry, and I agreed that it would be best to leave the action of the game un-scored for the purpose of maintaining the realism that was so important to the design of the game. After all, the real heroes of Normandy didn’t have any kind of soundtrack to accompany them through the battlefield - except, of course, for the sounds of the rifle and tank rounds that were whizzing over their heads, the massive explosions of mortar and bomber attacks, and the blood-curdling screams of their wounded and dying comrades. In all actuality, I’m not sure everybody involved in the production of the game was totally sold on taking this “un-scored action” approach at first. But I think even those who were most hesitant about such a bold design concept became true believers at the Gearbox 5th anniversary/BIA announcement party (that was held in April of 2003) where the entire audience was literally blown away by the incredible realism and chilling effect of David’s genius sound-design.
So it was decided that I would set about designing a score - set for full orchestra, for the cinematic interludes that are used to really tell the story of Sgt. Matt Baker and his men.
Conception, Composition And Orchestration
David’s concept for the score involved twelve pieces of linear music - each piece being approx. 3 ½ to 4 minutes in length - all with a “beginning-middle-and-end” shape that would allow the programmers at Gearbox to create story-telling scenes that would really carry the player into the drama of Sgt. Matt Baker’s experience.
The pre-production notes were brief - they were no more than a few sentences fragments and/or somewhat ambiguous strings of adjectives describing the emotional effect and visual textures that were to comprise the narrative sequences. At the time I began working on the score, the story-telling portions of the game were still in pre-production themselves and so I had no visual template on which to base the feel, shape, or pacing of each piece. While there was some possibility of utter disaster as I began scoring these scenes that I could not watch, and was working without any precise verbal instruction regarding the desired timing or orchestrational design of each piece, at the same time I was very excited to have such creative flexibility and freedom from pre-set imagery. In fact, David has told me that the pieces I wrote ultimately served as inspiration for the visual content that was still in the early stages of production by the time the recording sessions were over.
When I received David’s notes for the twelve different pieces he wanted for the project only 3 months remained before the recording sessions were scheduled to begin in Prague. The first month seemed to go by very quickly for me - I spent most of my time listening to and studying the scores of my favorite composers: Ravel, Rimsky-Korsakov, Debussy, Dutilleux… David and I talked a lot about John Williams’ score for Saving Private Ryan, as that movie, in combination with the HBO series, Band Of Brothers, had served as important inspiration for the design concept for Brothers In Arms. Yet I felt I had to look elsewhere for inspiration when it came time to score the more emotionally and psychologically fractured and disturbing scenes which David had in mind. In describing his concept for several of the pieces, David, himself, had resorted to entirely visual language without any sort of reference to pre-existing musical works. Ultimately, I think much of the success of the musical aspect of Brothers In Arms can be attributed to the fact that David and I could agree almost immediately on a musical interpretation of such phrases as, “high-contrast,” “color saturation,” and “the player is the mouse.”
In looking for a starting-point for the several pieces which were to be more sound-design via symphony orchestra than any brand of romantic program music, I enjoyed deep identification with certain passages from several works by Dutilleux. But I had no access to the scores and had never received any formal training in the design or use of such advanced orchestration techniques as were used in the essential components of those pieces. This being the case, it soon became apparent that I could not rely on any techniques that I had learned in school or on the understanding I had gained of the styles of famous composers. Ultimately, my creative process boiled down to many late nights, sitting at the keyboard in a sort of sleep-deprived/caffeine-buzzed semi-trance, meditating on the images that David had tried to paint in his description of each “mood.” Happily, I was able to allow the verbally constructed images of the pre-production notes to resonate in my ears at the level of pure emotion. Keeping the more technical/analytical part of my brain out of the way, I found I could simply allow my fingers to show me the music that was coming out of my heart.
One aspect of this process that I found difficult to adapt to as a composer and orchestrator was that I spent half of the time working without a net, so to speak. I did not enjoy the advantage of knowing that I had seen this or that voicing in some famous score - there were many cases in which I wanted to transition from one texture to another and could not find in my library any recording that could provide an example of how to make the transition successfully. Over the last six or seven weeks of the process (when eleven of the twelve pieces were written), I frequently had to stop work and walk away from some collection of experimental voicings and melodic doodles that seemed completely ineffective and/or totally wrong. Yet, returning to work the next day, I would play back what I had done the night before to find that by allowing my fingers to play over the keyboard without any undue interference from the part of my brain that is concerned with “right” and “wrong” compositional and orchestrational technique, I had found a more direct connection between the music and the emotions that I had experienced in reaction to David’s conceptual abstractions, as proven by the fact that nearly every first-attempt met with David’s hearty approval.
For ten of the twelve pieces, I worked in Sibelius, and used Steinberg’s Nuendo - with samples from the Miroslav, Advanced Orchestra, and London Symphony Percussion libraries - to make live-sounding examples of each piece for David to examine. However, I chose to improvise “Mood I” directly into Nuendo, one instrument at a time, returning later to transcribe the piece into Sibelius. And the title theme and was composed and orchestrated from beginning to end directly into Nuendo.
In fact, the theme was written under emergency circumstances. I had traveled to Dallas to meet the Gearbox team - I had only spoken with David up to that point - and to learn more about the project I would be contributing to. While there, I discovered that Gearbox had hired a separate company to produce a trailer for the game to be shown at that year’s E3 conference. The final version of the trailer was due for completion in less than ten days’ time from that evening. As this was the first I had ever heard of Gearbox’s intention to prepare a trailer for E3, I did not even have a draft version of the title theme, and the company that was making the trailer had chosen to use some canned music. It was important to me that the first impression future gamers would get of the musical aspect of the game would come from the same music they would hear while playing it. So, upon returning to New York City two days later, I put everything else aside (including sleep) and banged out the title track in less than 48 hours. Making the whole process more challenging was the fact that upon returning to NY, my computer had blown a processor AND a motherboard, so I had to work in my friend’s studio, a relatively unfamiliar place, without the benefit of my own templates or sample libraries. As it turned out, only the principal motive from the track I had sequenced was used on the trailer, but as it is the first phrase to sound as the trailer starts I cannot feel too disappointed. Fortunately that phrase did contain a central motif of the theme.
As the title track had been composed in such short order, without the advantage of having already designed any leitmotifs or essential thematic elements, I was somewhat apprehensive about being able to construct eleven other pieces that would relate organically with the main theme. However, through the use of a few key motifs from the title, I feel I was able to maintain a thematic cohesiveness throughout the score without unnecessarily limiting the amount of textural and emotional variety that I wished to bring to the score as a whole.
The Recording
Working with the FILMharmonic Orchestra was an utter pleasure. The lynchpin of that group is Petr Pycha. He was responsible for bringing in the best players, a tremendous conductor/technical producer team, ensuring that David and I were comfortable with each and every aspect of both the production and of our stay in Prague. The venue for the recordings, the Rudolphinium, was a truly inspiring phenomenon. I had a hard time convincing myself that any music I had written could possibly be worthy of such an incredible performance setting.
The internationally renowned recording engineer John Timperly, captured the most effective surround-sound recording I’ve ever heard. During playback at the editing sessions, David and I took turns listening from the acoustic sweet-spot and agreed that the effect was exactly that of being transported right back to the very best seats in the Rudolphinium. I hope that all those who play Brothers In Arms have the opportunity to enjoy the soundtrack and David’s incredible sound-design in its full, 5.1-surround glory.
During the sessions, I enjoyed very easy and fluid communication with the conductor and technical producer/score reader. For the most part these gifted musicians understood my concept and intention perfectly, just from looking at the score, and there were only a few instances in which I felt compelled to take the time to explain more precisely what I wanted to get out of a certain passage. Hearing the live version of the music as I had put it on the page, there were a handful of spots where quick changes were necessary to achieve the effect I had in mind. For example, I wanted to have the bass trombone double a line that was originally in the tuba part, only. Also, there were one or two cases where I wanted to change a certain line from “a2” to “solo” or vice versa. In all such cases, the conductor and technical producer and the players themselves were extremely accommodating. Over the four-day, eight-session process, there were several instances when myself or the technical producer would make a suggestion about some aspect of the score or the performance. Most of these suggestions were right on the money and really contributed to the effectiveness of the music. And, in the rare event that I would disagree with something they had to offer, there was never any difficulty or argument. At all times it was very clear that their number-one priority was facilitating the realization of the music I heard in my own head.
Conclusion
For me, the whole process was both exciting and educational. As I had never worked with a professional orchestra, it was a real thrill to hear the music brought to life in that way. After two months of listening to hastily constructed sequences, the effect of the live orchestra was truly breathtaking. All aspects of the recording process were top-notch and I would passionately recommend the FILMharmonic Orchestra to anyone needing to record their orchestral music for any type of project. I would especially like to credit the conductor, Adam Klemens; score reader/technical producer, Milan Puklicky, and recording technician, Cenda Kotzmann.
Stephen Harwood Jr.
Composer/orchestrator
www.okironmusic.com
https://web.archive.org/web/20080226010912/http://music4games.net/Features_Display.aspx?id=75