The Right Planets, and Stuff

Back from last night's "Off the Cuff" program at the Strathmore, wherein Baltimore Symphony Orchestra conductor Marin Alsop was joined by astrophysicist Mario Livio (her good buddy, she delighted to inform us!) to reflect on Gustav Holst's masterpiece, The Planets. The chat and slideshow went on about 20 minutes, followed by the BSO's thrilling execution of the work. The program repeats tonight at the Meyerhoff in Baltimore.

Marin Alsop. Credit: Grant Leighton, via WGBH

Mario Livio. Courtesy of MarioLivio.com

This was my first experience with the "Off the Cuff" program, which is designed to educate audiences a bit before immersing them into the music. It speaks to the interdisciplinarians among us, the liberal-arts majors who like to know everything about everything. Marin took us on a tour of the musical and mythical stories that Holst told through his seven planetary movements; Mario tutored us on the physical matters of planetary fact, including that one of the planets (Neptune, "the Mystic") was discovered purely through mathematics.

The performance was followed by a question and answer period, but we didn't stay for that. I did have a great question all prepared, but it turned out that the performance itself answered my question:

Why was the grandest, most awesomely stirring movement, "Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity," stuck in the fourth position and not used as the ending of the suite? The very natural impulse of anyone experiencing this music (especially performed live in person by real human musicians) is to burst into loud, prolonged joyful cheers. Instead, Holst ends the suite with faint murmurings from the farthest rock from our Sun, "Neptune, the Mystic." The suite thus quietly fades out in the echoes of a celestial chorus (in this instance, the Women of the Baltimore Choral Arts Society).

Mario Livio contributed high-def images of our dramatis planetae, projected on a screen above the orchestra during the program. These included a caption shown toward the end of the "Neptune" movement reminding us that our own messenger to the cosmos, Voyager 1, has left our solar neighborhood. It carries our humanity with it into the unknown. Its next "stop," the nearest star system, is 10,000 years away.

Now the music makes sense: We are left with our innate wonder, awe, and imagination. Holst is a genius.

Prescient, too, Mario reminded the audience. Pluto was discovered some four years before Holst died, and he was asked if he would like to add a Pluto movement to the suite. He refused, and Pluto was later demoted anyway.

Another interesting point that Marin made about Holst's work was how evocative it was to later movie music makers like John Williams. She had her orchestra pull comparative samples from the opening of "Mars, the Bringer of War" and from the soundtrack of the original Star Wars. 

And of course, anyone who knows me knows my favorite movie in life is The Right Stuff, which captured my imagination aurally through the Academy Award winning soundtrack composed by Bill Conti. So here's my story:

About thirty years ago, my favorite movie in life became The Right Stuff, largely because of the glorious and inspiring music in the soundtrack. (Of course, Sam Shepard as Chuck Yeager was sexy as hell, so that didn't hurt, either.)

Sam Shepard, Barbara Hershey in The Right Stuff. Courtesy of PhilipKaufman.com

After the movie ran an abbreviated course in theaters, largely considered a failure (whether the movie killed John Glenn's presidential hopes or Glenn's politics killed audience interest in the movie can be debated by others), I went on a mission to find the soundtrack. It won an Oscar, demmit! It should be out there for me to buy!! No dice. I heard or read somewhere that Bill Conti was not satisfied with the score. Color me mystified.

Then one night, while falling asleep with the radio still tuned to my favorite classical music station, I sat bolt upright in bed when the theme from The Right Stuff started playing! OMG, Conti's soundtrack on classical music radio!

The rousing finish of the movement came and, yes, I probably did jump up and burst into a loud, prolonged, joyful cheer. That's what Bringers of Jollity do to you. The announcer then informed me that I'd been listening to a selection from Holst's The Planets.

Now, I always smile when, in the opening credits of Casablanca, Max Steiner's composer credential is accompanied by a quick theme from "La Marseillaise" in the soundtrack. We know Max Steiner is a movie musical genius, but he did not compose the French national anthem. Nor did Bill Conti compose any of the Holst themes--Jupiter, Venus, Mars--that were so seamlessly integrated into his Right Stuff score (rumor has it that this was not Conti's decision, but the producers'--probably explaining his dissatisfaction). 

Several years later, I did come across a symphonic rendition of themes from The Right Stuff paired with music from Conti's work for the TV miniseries North and South. I do recommend this 1990 disc. But I now learn that, just this year, a limited edition CD was released without the N/S tether, but with an exceptionally odd and disconcerting addition--a dance mix of the "Right Stuff" theme (see track 12). A single? Seriously? They were releasing this to radio? Pardon my WTF moment here.

Now back to Holst. You may notice that I didn't include a link to a recording of The Planets. This is where I pitch the live human musical experience as the only way it all makes sense. If you want to listen to it on your own, find some nice pictures of real live planets to look at. Enjoy, with awe and wonder, what your fellow humans create with their awe and wonder.

Courtesy of NASA.

Love, hosaa
awed, wondering

eta (Nov. 10): I couldn't resist - I purchased the digital album of Conti's The Right Stuff. It has more tracks than the version with North and South. I'm listening now. It's interesting how little there is on Conti's version of the score that is recognizable to someone who has seen the movie well over 25 times (probably closer to 50). This is like a "director's cut" of a movie--it's the artist's original conception.

Even the "Tango" cut on this was replaced in the movie. I didn't remember where it was used until I watched the movie again. It's in the last scene at the clinic where the astronaut prospects are undergoing medical tests. Tough Navy aviator Alan Shepard has just had some balloon inserted in his bladder and needs to get to the john before it is released and makes a mess. Very funny scene, because he's at the mercy of nursing aide Gonzales, whom Shepard had offended with his Jose Jimenez imitations.

Anyway, I think it would be fun to montage the scenes from the movie with Conti's music. (What, another non-Clay, non-futurist video project??? Can I have more hours, Madame Clock?) ~h

etaa - The "single" is still bizarre. I guess Conti thought they needed something to sell the album to MTV in 1983. Without liner notes, though, it's hard to tell.