Music, Shadows on the Screen and Politics (I)

Music, Shadows on the Screen and Politics (I)

Films produced in Romania throughout the 20th century were, without a doubt, a faithful mirror of the country’s various historical moments, socio-political contexts, and ideological shifts. The effects of totalitarianism – especially those of the communist regime – did not spare cinematic art, which remained under constant threat of censorship. A recent challenge taken up by Romanian musicologists has been to investigate the role music played in domestic films, from the 1940s up until 1989[1]. In this context, the conference Film Music, Moving Images and Politics, organized by Professor Nicolae Gheorghiță at the National University of Music Bucharest between November 16-18, 2023, provided an excellent framework for debate and for comparing the situation of Romanian film music with a range of cases from international cinema. The current issue of Musicology Today, along with the next one, will reflect some of the topics discussed at this event.

In his study, Kevin Bartig traces the international visibility, in the second half of the 20th century, of Sergei Prokofiev’s music composed between 1942 and 1946 for Sergei Eisenstein’s historical film Ivan the Terrible, through two reworkings of the score: the oratorio arranged in 1961 by Abram Stasevich, and the ballet created in 1975 through the collaboration between composer Mikhail Chulaki and dancer-choreographer Yuri Grigorovich. Focusing primarily on the reactions of Western critics during the Cold War, the author observes the presence of various ideological lenses through which Prokofiev’s music was received, concluding that “the category of musical ‘propaganda’ in critical discourse was one that was continually negotiated”.

The construction of a national imaginary through music is the theme explored by Harry White, as he analyzes how Ireland has been represented in film music from the second half of the 20th century onward. Focusing on British, American, and Irish cinematic productions after 1950, White examines a range of aspects and implications regarding the integration of traditional music into the fabric of cinema: from the depiction of sonic images of Ireland, to the conjugation of traditional music with European art music in the imagining of the nation, and finally to the suggestion, in films from the late 20th- and early 21st centuries, of an expanded semantic role for this music.

Another case of national imaginary is investigated by Valentina Sandu-Dediu, starting from two historical Romanian films from the 1960s, Dacii (1967) and Columna (1968), which focus on formation of the Romanian people through the Roman conquest of the native Dacians. In the following two decades, the communist regime promoted the direction of a massive nationalist rewriting of Romanian history, a trend clearly visible in a third film about the Dacians, Burebista (1980). The author analyzes how the music composed by Theodor Grigoriu evokes the Dacian imaginary across the three films: in a modernist style in the first two – both international super-productions made during Romania’s brief period of openness to the West – and in a much more accessible approach, aligned with the tastes of the authorities, in the third – a purely Romanian propaganda blockbuster.

The longing for a Western lifestyle – including for “foreign” music – is reflected in several Romanian films from the communist period, though it is most often counterbalanced by elements of intense nationalism, in line with the demands of censorship. In the two films I have chosen to analyze in my paper, I aim to identify the role played by Richard Oschanitzky’s music in shaping these two irreconcilable worlds. While the action of Parașutiștii (1972) takes place in the present, in the early 1970s, Un comisar acuză (1974), set during the bloody year of the Legionary government, 1940, represents an example of largely falsified history.

The immediate continuation of this historical moment is reflected in Nicolae Gheorghiță’s study, which examines the music of a 1941 war propaganda film. Titled Romania in the Fight against Bolshevism, or Our Holy War, the film was produced in the context of Romania’s entry into the World War II under General Ion Antonescu’s leadership, on the side of the Axis powers, with the goal of reclaiming Romanian territories occupied by the Soviet Union in 1940. The author brings to the forefront the music composed for this film by Paul Constantinescu – a talented and highly appreciated composer, yet not untouched by controversy under the totalitarian regimes in which he lived –, emphasizing its stylistic diversity, ranging from reworkings of Romanian folk themes to bruitist soundscapes.

 

Florinela Popa

 


[1] I am referring to the project Film Music in Romania (1948-1989). Research, Digitization, Recovery (CNFIS-FDI-2023-F-0168), carried out by the National University of Music Bucharest and coordinated by Professor Nicolae Gheorghiță.

 

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