Over two decades of MaMI conferences, we have followed a vision of the keynote address as an opportunity—perhaps even a responsibility—to seek out innovative scholars and those industry practitioners whose perspectives might broaden a once fledgling yet bubbling field.1 Well, the discipline has become magnificently broad and rich since our initial 2001 MaMI keynote, which featured the pioneering film music scholar, Claudia Gorbman2—who by the way, is with us yet again this year.We have presented an eclectic range of practitioners, from composers Howard Shore3 and Carter Burwell4 to supervising sound editor and designer Skip Lievsay5 to Audio Branding Logo creator Joel Beckerman.6 As researchers, we have often absorbed their perspectives in our publications and teaching. And on occasion, we've seen palpable results—for instance in Ian Sapiro's7 2016 book Scoring the Score: The Role of the Orchestrator in the Contemporary Film Industry, published soon after Hollywood orchestrator Pat Russ's8 MaMI keynote address.With today's keynote, Kat9 and I hope to nourish and inspire interest from the creative process, industrial practice, and perspective of the film editor—in particular, that of the celebrated picture editor Paul Hirsch. His work is integral to some of the most seen, heard, and heralded films of the past half-century, including George Lucas's Star Wars (1977), for which he was bestowed an Academy Award.Paul's keynote is unique: it is in the form of a bespoke audiovisual presentation—a forty-minute film, if you will, which he created and, of course, edited expressly for MaMI 2022. You are, indeed, in for a treat, which will be followed by an extended Q&A session with Paul Hirsch.To that end, please post questions for Paul, either as they occur to you during the video, or throughout the Q&A period. OK—let's now roll the tape.What does music contribute to a film? [Hirsch plays clips and theme music from Mission: Impossible (1996),10Superman (1978),11 James Bond (Goldfinger, 1964),12Star Wars: Episode IV (1977).]13 Hi. It's an honor to be chosen as the keynote speaker for this year's NYU conference on Music and the Moving Image. The themes I've just been playing send a thrill of pleasure through me every time I hear them. They are iconic, instantly identifiable, and like calling cards for some of history's most indelibly memorable films.In 1911 in Paris, an early film theorist named Ricciotto Canudo was the first to recognize cinema as an art. Initially regarded as a novelty, a fairground, or penny arcade attraction, Canudo described it as being one of the Seven Arts.He divided arts into two categories. One group, in his view, dealt with the rhythms of space. These are the plastic arts: architecture, sculpture, and painting. The word plastic derived from the Greek, meaning moldable or shapeable. These arts use actual physical materials. Paintings and sculpture represent moments in time, but render them immobile and, therefore, perhaps eternal—at least that's what the artist hopes for.What did Canudo mean by rhythm in still objects? In architecture, the columns of the Parthenon come to mind, or the flying buttresses of Gothic cathedrals. There are countless examples. In painting, we can see rhythm in the hands and faces of Caravaggio's14Deposition of Christ15 or in Botticelli's16Primavera.17 The second group, which Canudo dubbed the rhythms of time, included music, poetry, and dance. These obviously do not use physical materials. He then declared that cinema was the Seventh Art.Film draws on all the arts. It has roots in painting and photography. It draws on architecture and music, and, of course, it adds the theatrical arts as well: costuming, set design, and acting. In addition, and crucially, it adds yet another art: film editing, or montage. This is the only aspect of filmmaking which is native to the new medium.All art forms are comprised of details, but the way we experience the details varies from medium to medium. If you approach a painting in a museum or gallery, you first see the entirety of the work. It's only as you get closer to it that you start to notice the details of which it is comprised. We can study a painting for hours if we wish, or just glance at it. With sculpture, we need to walk around the statue in order to fully comprehend it. The same is true to a greater degree in architecture. It's only after exploring both the interior and the exterior of the building that we can form a mental picture of its design. In each of these [examples], the artist doesn't control the order in which the viewer takes in the details.In literature, however, the writer carefully controls the order in which details are revealed to the reader. They hold back bits of information to create tension or mystery, but they can't control the pace. A reader might read a book all in one sitting or they may read it a chapter at a time over several weeks.A composer likewise controls the order but also introduces, crucially, the tempo at which the details come to the listener. In this way, [music] is very similar to film. Both control the order and the pace at which the details are presented.That's where I come in. The film editor functions at times like the conductor in an orchestra or the drummer in a band. We can, within limits, set a tempo. There's an old saying in editing that I can make her talk sooner, but I can't make her talk faster.This is no longer entirely true, but even without speeding up the action, we have a certain amount of latitude to change the tempo from perhaps an adagio to an andante, and this can greatly affect the audience's enjoyment of a film.This connection to music, my true first love, was my way of understanding how to approach editing. I first became aware of the critical importance of film music as a young film editor while watching a TV broadcast of Hitchcock's18Psycho (1960).Janet Leigh19 has stolen money from her boss and run away. She drives all night and falls asleep by the side of the road. In the morning, a passing patrol officer stops, concerned about her, and wakes her up. She is overcome with feelings of guilt, and she manages to get him to let her go. As she drives away, the music begins, and it's an incredibly tense scene.As an experiment, I reached up and I turned down the sound. The tension went out of the scene. I turned the sound back up, and there was that incredible tension again. I realized that it was all in the music. This was a revelation to me.Bernard Herrmann20 once said to me that music is the emotional connection between the audience and the events up on the screen.Film music has antecedents from way before film was ever invented. It was called incidental music and accompanied stage productions. There was also ballet music, which supported the dancers. Film music has sometimes been described as ballet music for preexisting choreography. This choreography has been established in the editing of the film, by the editor and director.john williams and star wars: episode iv – a new hope (1977) I know that all composers would like to see each film for the first time without any temp music, so that they could judge for themselves where the music should go and what it should express. But this simply isn't possible. Keep in mind that some directors may know nothing about music, but they may have very strong instincts about how the music should function in a particular scene. They may not have the vocabulary to express what they want, so think of temp music as a way of communicating. The director wants music that accomplishes a particular goal, and they and the editor may have made some perfectly valid discoveries.I'm now going to [discuss] some examples of how one of the great geniuses in film scoring, John Williams,21 dealt with temp music. In 1976, I was hired during the editing of Star Wars, now known as Episode IV – A New Hope (1977). I was the last of four editors hired on the picture, and a lot of music had already been chosen for the film before I even started. There were bits of The Planets (1918)22 by Gustav Holst23 as well as “Dance of the Adolescents” from The Rite of Spring24 (1913) by Igor Stravinsky.25 George Lucas26 asked me if I knew anything about classical music, since he had already made the decision to use symphonic music in the score. I said I did, as a result of my having studied music at the LaGuardia High School of Music & Art in New York.27The editing of A New Hope has been exhaustively examined. Some of you may be aware that we eliminated some early scenes [that were set] on the surface of Tatooine.28 [In the finished film,] our very first view of the planet is when C-3PO and R2-D229 land in the desert (00:8:52:16). I thought the music should reflect the mystery and eeriness of the place. One particular piece, from Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring, came immediately to mind. This is what we used and showed to John. [Hirsch plays the scene, underscored by a selection from Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring.] John recognized that it was very effective, and he wasn't bothered by staying close to the temp. This is what he wrote. [Hirsch plays the same scene, now with Williams's score.] You can hear how he respected the intention but improved on it when the temp music went a little bit off course.Here's another example. This is the scene in which R2-D2 is captured by the Jawas30 (00:12:01:12). The costumes had a North African feel about them and suggested to me another cue from The Rite of Spring. This is what we showed John. [Hirsch plays the scene, underscored by a selection from Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring.] Now here's the scene with what John wrote. [Hirsch plays the same scene, now with Williams's score.] Again, the influence is clear. John improved on it in the reveal of the sand crawler, in the way the muted trumpets complement the sound of the Jawas’ voices, and in the descending musical figure as the big vacuum comes down.Let's move on to the cantina sequence (00:44:43:17). The scene cried out for music, but obviously it wouldn't be scored music, so I had to consider what we could use as source music. I wanted to use something that would emphasize the utter oddness of the place. I thought, “What would be an appropriate accompaniment for a galactic watering hole?” [Hirsch plays the cantina scene, underscored by Benny Goodman,31 “Avalon” (1937).]32 George [Lucas] loved the idea. Hearing Benny Goodman inspired him to shoot a member of the band playing a clarinet-like instrument. This is the version that John saw and wrote to. [Hirsch plays the same scene, now with Williams's score.]We've seen how John was unafraid to write music that was close to the temp. Now here's an example of where he deviated a bit. This is from the scene in which the Millennium Falcon is being pulled into the Death Star by the tractor beam (01:04:16:22). We had tracked the scene with Max Steiner's33 “Approach to Skull Island”34 from King Kong (1933).35 It had the necessary mystery and tension. I've had to drop out the dialogue so you can hear the music. [Hirsch plays the scene from Star Wars, underscored by Steiner's score from King Kong (01:17:52).] John improved on it. He retained the requisite tension, but he added a new element. [Hirsch plays the same scene, now with Williams's score.] He played the power and might of the Empire. The cue could have served as underscore for a Roman general returning triumphant from a military campaign. [The scene continues with the trumpet fanfare.] This was a brilliant addition that elevated the stakes, because it underlined the disparity in the forces, making us feel the enormity of what our heroes were up against.the influence of bernard herrmann It was 1976. Bernard Herrmann, with whom I had done two pictures and who had become a friend, had died a year earlier. I had been listening to his music a lot, and there was a cue from Psycho that I thought would be perfectly appropriate for this moment: something that would darken the scene and play easily under dialogue (00:56:08:13). Its opening three notes are a recurring motif in Psycho: F–E♭–D. I thought it would be appropriate for the peril that our heroes in Star Wars are in at that moment. This is what we showed to John. [Hirsch plays the scene in which the characters are hiding in the secret compartment of the Millennium Falcon, underscored by a musical selection from Psycho.] John had also been a friend of Benny's and, of course, recognized the cue. He decided to quote it as an homage, and this is what he wrote. [Hirsch plays the same scene, now with Williams's score (01:07:02:03).]The medal ceremony, at the end of the film, was cut to Dvorak's36New World Symphony (1893).37 [Hirsch plays the scene with the Dvorak selection (01:58:21:05).] When we presented it to John, George was especially keen on preserving the change in energy at the end of the cue, a piu mosso. He stressed to John how important that was to him. Again, John effectively endorsed the choice of the temp and delivered what George had asked for to great effect. [Hirsch plays the same scene, now with Williams's score.]Let's move on now from Star Wars to another film I had just completed, Carrie (1976), directed by Brian De Palma.38 Among many memorable moments in the film is the jump scare at the end of the picture (01:34:31:06). This depended heavily on score to deliver the jump. Once again, I turned to the master, Bernard (Benny) Herrmann. The scariest music I could think of was the score from Sisters (1972).39 I set up the moment by playing Tomaso Albinoni's40Adagio for Strings and Organ [Adagio in G Minor;41 composed by Remo Giazotto,42 1945]. The scene was shot with subtle, odd elements. In some shots, Amy [Irving,43 playing Sue Snell] was actually walking backward, and we reversed the film. We don't make a big deal of it, but a keen-eyed observer might notice a car driving in reverse in the background. Certain angles seem to be daytime shots and others have a nighttime sky. At the first movement of Carrie's hand shooting up out of the grave, I cut to the cue from Sisters. Because Benny had used metallic percussion instruments, we made sure to ask Pino Donnagio,44 the composer for Carrie, to begin the cue with an anvil strike or something similar. [Hirsch plays the same scene, now with Donnagio's score.]In 1983, I cut a musical film, Footloose,45 directed by Herbert Ross.46 [Hirsch plays the opening credit sequence of Footloose.] It was about a small town that had banned dancing, and how a new boy in town works to reverse that ban. So, of course, there were going to be a lot of dance numbers. The screenplay was by Dean Pitchford,47 who had won an Oscar for writing the lyrics to the song “Fame” (1980).48 Dean was planning to cowrite every song in the picture with various musicians. By the time shooting began, he hadn't had time to do this with more than a couple of composers.In this scene, Kevin Bacon49 teaches Chris Penn50 how to dance. There was a song that Dean had completed during preproduction called “Somebody's Eyes.”51 Although it had been intended for a different scene in the picture, Herbert decided to use it for the dance lesson (00:59:39:14). The lesson was to take place over several days or weeks, showing gradual improvement until Chris gets really good. To dramatize the time passing, the various sections of the song were filmed at different locations. Herbert shot it over several weeks, using “Somebody's Eyes” as playback. This meant we were locked into the song's tempo. When I finished the first cut of the scene, I felt it didn't work. The lyrics now made no sense. In addition, I just didn't like the song. It was kind of “sing-song-y,” and it had no juice.I convinced Herbert to replace the song, and we went to Dean, who agreed. We asked the music editors for some suggestions of songs that had the same click or tempo because of the dancing. Among them, we found this: Michael Jackson,52 “Don't Stop.”53 It was the same tempo, but it felt quicker. It had life. So we went to Dean and the composer, and we asked for a song that had the same feel. They delivered. [Hirsch plays the same scene, now underscored by “Let's Hear it for the Boy,”54 Tom Snow55 and Dean Pitchford, sung by Deniece Williams.]56 Dean rewrote the lyrics so they now made sense, and the song, the last one written and recorded—at the eleventh hour—became one of the two biggest hits from the movie.At that point in my career, I started working with John Hughes,57 going back and forth between him and Herbert. In Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986),58 we needed music for the introduction of the Ferrari (00:25:59:10). We almost used Italian opera. [Hirsch plays the scene with a selection from Verdi's59La traviata.]60 But we opted for this. [Hirsch plays the same scene, underscored with Yello,61 “Oh Yeah” (1985).]62When I finished Ferris, I went immediately back to work with Herbert on a picture called The Secret of My Success (1987). Herbert had once said to me, “You only get one opportunity to see your movie for the first time.” So he liked me to show him the whole cut, all at once, at the end of principal photography, with music. The picture contained a number of montages, all of which needed to be set to music, but none of which had been shot to music. It was up to me to find temp tracks for the presentation to Herbert. I had picked a song to use in Ferris, but John, who had originally loved it, got tired of it and had me replace it. I had hoped to use it for when Ferris picks up Sloane from high school and they and Cameron escape to Chicago for their day off (00:30:57:20). [Hirsch plays the scene, underscored by Katrina and the Waves,63 “Walking on Sunshine” (1983).]64 John loved it at first but ultimately decided on a different song. [Hirsch plays the same scene, now underscored by The Flowerpot Men, “Beat City.”]65 Well, I still liked “Walking on Sunshine,” so I tried it again in The Secret of My Success, in the scene where a lowly shipping-room boy, played by Michael J. Fox,66 assumes an alter ego as a junior executive (00:44:43:05). This time, it stuck. [Hirsch plays the scene from The Secret of My Success, underscored by “Walking on Sunshine.”]Here's a scene in which Brantley (Fox) is driving his uncle's wife, Vera [Margaret Whitton],67 home in a limo (01:01:45:12). He knows who she is, but she doesn't know who he is because they've never met. [Hirsch plays the scene from The Secret of My Success, underscored by “Oh Yeah.”] She takes a sudden shine to him, which makes him extremely uncomfortable. A montage such as this requires music. And for the scene to work, it has to be just right. The scene was meant to be comically suggestive—even lewd, perhaps. The music had to reflect the sexual innuendo of the images. Fortunately, thanks to John Hughes, I had the perfect solution. When they arrive at Vera's home, she suggests they go for a dip in the pool (01:07:08:09). This is another way that music can add to the comedy of a scene. [Hirsch plays the pool scene from The Secret of My Success underscored by John Williams's Jaws68 main theme.] Similarly, here's a scene from Ferris Bueller's Day Off (00:54:34:08). The shot cries out for a specific cue. [Hirsch plays the “flying Ferrari” shot, underscored by John Williams's Star Wars main theme.]This kind of brings us full circle. The movie business is undergoing tremendous changes along with everything else in our lives. There has been a movement away from traditional film scoring. I've been told that the days of themes and melodies are over. Music is often used now as a kind of sound effect, like a background tone or a pulse. And there have always been people who argue that the use of music in film is illegitimate, that it tells audiences how they're supposed to feel.I couldn't disagree more. Everything in a film is there for a reason: the lighting, the locations, the performances are all designed to elicit a specific emotional response from the audience. Music is a perfectly valid tool.It supplements what is happening on screen and is crucial in creating moments that live forever. A musical theme can evoke in a few seconds the memory of a two-hour emotional experience. Movie themes have become part of our national culture. College marching bands play “Darth Vader's Theme”69 at halftime at football games every fall. What does a pulse contribute to our national life? What would James Bond be without that electric guitar, or Mission: Impossible without that 5/4 theme? What would Hitchcock be without Benny or Star Wars without John Williams?