The Mantlepiece Stories - The John Williams Note
THE MANTLEPIECE STORIES
5. THE JOHN WILLIAMS NOTE
The small, hand-written note is carefully encased in a clear plasticframe to protect it from the ravages of time. And it is kept visible because at this point in the journey, I have a tendency to forget where I place precious notes, so it’s just more fun to keep them close at hand, and focus in on them every once in a while. The note is written in the artist’s script, in ink on a small, personalized note card, dated 1-16-18.
It is special because ordinarily, the respected and so brilliant John Williams and I don’t engage in a personal correspondence. I have had the privilege of working with him a number of times on the scoring stages of Hollywood, where in his long-time collaborative relationship with Steven Spielberg, he has written many film scores that involved vocals. I’ve had the privilege of assembling choirs for him to fit the needs of each particular production – “AMISTAD”was the first, and that came about because I had recently worked with composer Hans Zimmer on the film “POWER OF ONE”, and the subject of that film was the conflict around apartheid in South Africa, so it had involved extensive and very authentic-sounding African music. Sandy De Crescent, John’s musician contractor who had also been Hans Zimmer’s contractor, thought that I might be the right person to help with John’s music in “AMISTAD”, as it also was to involve African music, albeit with a slightly more classical and American approach.
John had previously used Jeanine Wagner, the daughter of Roger Wagner, the great L.A. Master Chorale director in Los Angeles. I had also worked with Jeanine on a Williams score or two as a singer, and on other projects where we had just sung together, and I was concerned that this would be a huge disappointment to her. John was so sensitive about that, and explained that he would understand if I just felt uncomfortable replacing her because of our friendship. As the conversations developed, and I reached out to Jeanine to talk with her about it, it turned out that the recording schedule for the film score conflicted with a concert tour that she was already committed to do with her choir, the Wagner Ensemble, in Japan. So though I was not able to include her to sing in the choir, the timing seemed to be okay for me to accept this wonderful opportunity.
We used a Children’s Choir of about 48 voices, augmented with a few adult sopranos and altos to help the kids with their vocal parts. And there was an adult choir of the same size. It was an extremely emotional project, painful even for some of the choir singers to view the scenes of the slave ship and the abuse of the Africans in the process of their story. Even though in the end, justice triumphed and they were allowed to return to their homeland, I think the subject matter made it a difficult film for audiences, and it did not receive the recognition broadly that most of Spielberg’s films have received.
Prior to the choir sessions, John had wanted to find just the right voice to sing a particular solo cue. I met with him in his offices, and we viewed the scene on the legendary old classic piece of equipment John still used, a moviola, which is what had been used for film editing. The scene in question was of one young woman, heavily wrapped in chains, who was perched on the railing of the slave ship that was carrying her and the load of so many others that were bound for sale into slavery once they reached America. The young woman was pregnant, and the painful emotions that showed on the expressive face of the actress indicated that she was determined not to complete this unhappy journey. She leans back over the side of the ship and in a slow motion shot, falls slowly into the turbulent sea, pulled beneath the waves by the heavy chains.
The vocal for this shot had to be authentic, in terms of the ethnic quality of a voice, but it needed to have somewhat of a classical sound or at least that level of skill, as John had written a passionate, emotional and vocally challenging cue for the underscore of the scene. I gathered demos from the singers in the Los Angeles area who I thought might be possible considerations, but nothing seemed quite right. I also at that time had to be in New York City for Trustee meetings of my union’s Health & Retirement funds, so while I was there I thought, why not audition some of the young students at Julliard? Those who participated were thrilled for the opportunity, and I think it was a good part of their curriculum there to have that experience even though the results had to have been disappointing to them. John still did not hear what he felt was just right. Upon my return, a friend told me that a new director had just taken over the San Francisco Opera, and that there might be some young vocalist there to submit. So I contacted him, and was referred to a lovely young Soprano, Pamela Dillard, who at the time was touring in concert. I contacted her by phone in Birmingham, Alabama. And somehow, I knew just from speaking with her on the phone that this was the right voice. She submitted a demo tape, John listened, and it was clear we had finally reached the end of our search. He was so pleased with her sound that he wrote two more additional vocal cues for her to perform as solos within the score.
I continued working with John as a Vocal Contractor on several projects that followed, after that first project in 1997; “THE PATRIOT”, “I.A. ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE”, “MINORITY REPORT”, “MUNICH”, and “INDIANA JONES AND THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL” and more recently on “STAR WARS:THE FORCE AWAKENS” movies, where John used a very low, growly all-men’s choir. John also continued to use when appropriate, the L.A. Master Chorale for the full, rich, classical scores he has written.
We also did during that period of time, a smaller children and women’s voices session for a trailer for one of the “HARRY POTTER” series of films. We could do that as part of the advertising for the film, even though the score itself, for financial reasons, was being done in London.
John is one of the most, if not the most respected composer and human being in the music business. And he has earned that not just because of his brilliance as a composer, but because of his sensitivity and kindness to the musicians and performers with whom he works.
On several projects, when solo “step-outs” were required from an ensemble and we needed to have two children audition for the cue in front of all the choir, he would always direct me to put them both on a “step-out” contract to pay them for what they sang, and that “we would decide later…” which one got the part and whose performance would actually be used in the film. He didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by announcing whose vocal would be used, particularly sensitive about that with the kids. The musicians who work with him he also treats with the greatest of respect and warmth.
There was a situation that happened several decades earlier, with another wonderful composer I had the privilege of working with, and who actually gave me my first opportunity to write lyrics for film music. It recently served as another connection to dear John Williams, and his kindness.
The composer was Dominic Frontiere, and he had won several Emmy and Golden Globe awards, had scored films and numerous TV series shows, and was for a period of time the head of music at Paramount Pictures. I first wrote with Dom in 1971 the lyrics for the main title for “ON ANY SUNDAY”, a kind of pseudo-documentary about motorcycling that featured Steve McQueen, and has since become a cult icon among the biking community through the years. It also became somewhat of a tribute to Steve McQueen, who departed the Hollywood scene much too early in his life.
I had worked with Dom as a singer on earlier projects, and continued writing lyrics with him on several others, among which was “HAMMERSMITH IS OUT”, a little-known film starring Elisabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, but was not widely shown. (I know this little story is supposed to be about the treasured note from John that sits on my mantle, but bear with me for a bit longer, and soon you will understand why all this other information is coming into play.)
Dominic had married his third wife Georgia Frontiere, formerly Georgia Rosenbloom, widow of Carroll Rosenbloom, owner of the L.A. Rams, in July of 1980. Surprisingly to many, Georgia had become the owner of the L.A. Rams when her former husband died, as she had been left the greatest percentage of ownership of the team. She was the first woman to take control of a league franchise, and early on in her position had upset many by firing Rosenbloom’s son, who had been designated as Manager of the team. Carroll Rosenbloom’s somewhat mysterious death in 1979 was by drowning, in the Atlantic Ocean while swimming near his Florida home.
In 1986, following a long period of investigations and drama, Dominic was charged with having “scalped” some charity tickets to the 1980 Super Bowl. Those of us who knew and loved Dom were convinced that he ended up “taking the rap” for his then wife, Georgia, who claimed she had given him the tickets to be “given away”. She herself was never charged with any crime. Dominic had refused to testify against her, had pled not guilty to income tax evasion charges against his 1980 taxes, but many felt he had been punished for not cooperating by providing evidence against Georgia. This also to many of us seemed a bit odd, given that he and Georgia had only married in that same year, 1980, following the death of her previous husband and suddenly he was thrust into the involvement with some Super Bowl tickets. (There’s also some question about the cause of Carroll Rosenbloom’s mysterious drowning, but we won’t wander off into that cloud here. Lots of crazy stuff goes on around professional sports, as well as in the Hollywood celebrity world.)
But Hollywood does not necessarily always stand behind its own. When Dom was released, after serving nine months in prison, the result of the conviction of charges against him, most all of Hollywood had turned its back on him. Phone calls were not returned, opportunities were not offered as abundantly. Dom continued to work in music, and do other projects in the ensuing years, but he felt cut off from his Hollywood community.
He eventually married Robin Frontiere, a wonderful, very bright young woman, graduate of Sarah Lawrence, who had been among other things, a script reader for newly submitted material for then head of the studio, Sheri Lansing. Dominic and Robin established a lovely home outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico. They have four amazingly brilliant children, all of whom Dom was so very proud, and I was grateful to stay in touch through the years and be able to continue our friendship. It was with great sadness that I received the news from Robin in a phone call from her in the Fall of 2017, that Dom’s earlier diagnosis of lung cancer, which we all thought had been handled and was under control, had advanced severely, and that it was only a matter of weeks. The family was devastated, and I had hoped to make another visit to Santa Fe. I was very touched when soon after that initial call, I heard from Robin that the kids had decided I should be the person to speak at Dominic’s memorial service there.
Robin had been fiercely defensive and supportive of Dom, and still held resentments toward the community of his fellow composers and studio executives who had sort of abandoned him, following the unfortunate Rams charity tickets situation. I asked her at one point if it would be all right for me to let a few of his old friends or colleagues in Los Angeles know of his illness, the ones I felt had truly cared about him, so they could get in touch with him. But she asked me not to do so, which I respected, because she felt they had made their decisions about the value of their friendship with him, and she was resistant, understandably, to acknowledge in any way Hollywood and the painful past experiences.
However, she shared with me that John Williams had been in touch with Dominic through the years, and had recently called, expressed concern, and emotional support. I don’t know what projects Dominic and John might have worked on together or what the basis of their friendship was. But it touched me so, to know that John, a man of such renown, and with such a busy schedule himself, had remained in touch with the family and had expressed that kindness to Dom, and to his loved ones.
This is when I wrote John Williams a note. I didn’t know if he would ever receive it, but I wrote and explained my history with Dominic, the lyric writing and the continuing friendship through the years with his young family. And I told him how moving it had been for me to learn that he had been in contact, stayed in contact…that it was not surprising in any way, because I knew what a kind and gracious man he had always been, but that this particular kindness touched me. And I knew how much it had meant to Dom’s family.
A few days later, I received the note that now sits on my Mantle Piece, from John Williams. I hope it’s not inappropriate to share his words here, and I remind you that we were not socially connected, or friends in any other way than through our times in the studios, and our occasional path-crossing at music events over the years. That is what makes this note so incredible, that he would have taken the time to write and send it.
In his artistically dashed-off script, are the words; “Dearest Sally— Thank you for the sweetest possible note! You are an Angel— Embraces—John.”
Now, how could I possibly put that note anyplace other than where I could see it, and have it make me smile, every single day? So it lives there, among the other inspirations for the Mantle Piece stories. Bless you, dear sir.