Lost Issue: Quincy Jones Press Conference - Part Three of Three
Saturday 15 March 1997, Palace Hotel, Gstaad, Switzerland, by Robert Hoshowsky
Recap from previous lost issue:
Celebrating his 64th birthday at this year's Cinemusic, the International
Music and Film Festival, Quincy Jones shows no signs of slowing down. The
recipient of this year's Cinemusic Award, Jones is one of the hardest-working
people in show business -- and one of the busiest: his schedule prevented
him from granting individual interviews.
The following is a transcript of a press conference that took place
at the Palace Hotel in Gstaad on March 15, 1997. Where possible, reporters
have been identified.
Q: [Swiss Film Music Society] You just said that you had replaced
the music of somebody from The Getaway. Did that happen to you,
too, that your music was replaced?
A (Quincy Jones): Thank God, no! That's the composers nightmare.
There's a silly notion that the composer is totally led by the director.
Down which avenue you go musically, well, there's many choices. It's like
fabrics on a suit. I've always thought that they should have one session
after they have a rough cut and let the composer come in and just do impressions,
his impressions of ostinatos and themes and motifs and so on, you see.
So when they spot, they have their own music to put in there, rather than
say "What music?" He might be thinking about South Pacific, or something
his kid's playing, you know, Nine Inch Nails. You can't tell. What they're
hearing and what you're hearing... it's a very rough game. I saw it happen
with Hitchcock and Bernie Herrmann on Torn Curtain. I used to go
to all Bernie Herrmann sessions, and see how he would work with Hitchcock,
and how he treated music. Hitchcock had said to him, "I want a very contemporary
score," and Bernie, who would very often do this, would go "Bah! Contemporary
music." He didn't want to know about it. So he ordered the same 80-piece
orchestra, and 10 minutes into the session, Hitchcock's sitting there in
a black suit and a black tie, and called Bobby Hellforo, who was the contractor,
and said, "Cancel the session." And immediately he sent for John Addison.
And that's the problem, you know, and that's happened to a lot of composers.
They get led down the wrong road by the director, and the director doesn't
understand: any composer can always write 50 different kinds of scores
for a picture, but they always call somebody "else" if they throw it out.
So that was always a nightmare, I would say. If I had to work that hard
and somebody else did it, it would freak me out.
Q: [RH] I was wondering how you go about discovering new talent.
Do people send you demos?
A: Talent? Like singers or something?
Q: [RH] New singers, new musicians.
A: Demos, I've found, and I've been in the business I guess 50
years, I have never found one unsolicited demo that I've used, not one.
It usually comes from someone, a professional songwriter, a producer or
whatever. Like Ross Titleman sent me a demo of a song in 1980 called "Just
Once." And the song was great, and I said, "But who is that singer, though?"
And the singer was a piano player with The Coasters, and Ray Charles with
James Ingram. And that's the kind of soft vaccine, the kind of results
that happens with records. If they're sent to you by professionals, it
usually songwriters or professional musicians. But most of the stuff we
get off the street, I've never found one yet. Not one.
Q: [Swiss Film Music Society] Mr. Jones, did Listen Up
[a 1990 documentary on Jones] open up a new point of view on your life
for you, personally?
A: That was a catharsis. I didn't have anything to do with that
film. Steve Ross' wife was the producer, and I really didn't have anything
to do with it, except it was on my life. Yeah. I guess the most significant
moment was going back to Chicago after being away 50 years, hoping that
our original house was torn down, and that there was a supermarket there
or something. Not a chance: it was "exactly" like it was when we lived
there 50 years ago. The same paint when my father painted there, and that
was very early. And also the little girl that played next door -- Lucy,
you remember her? -- she was the first lady I heard play stride piano when
she was 12 years old, and I got out of the car, and Courtney orchestrated
this very well; she didn't say a word, she just had the cameras rolling
and let me discover this house that I hadn't seen in a long time. It felt
so big when I left it -- when you're little, everything's big -- and Lucy
was there in her wheelchair, 62 years old, and that took me out. And I
went upstairs and all of the memories came back. A lot of things that I
had blanked out of my mind, about my mother and everything else and all.
She would say something, and it all came back. And she described how when
we left she ran after the car, when we left for the last time...it was
very cathartic [long pause].
Q: [unknown] You came a long way, and I was wondering... you
were the first big authority for black people in the music industry. Now,
Martin Luther King, he changed the world by marching. Are you changing
it through music?
A: I'd like to hope to do a little bit, you know. But we did
some marching too, with Dr. King [laughs]. A "lot" of marching with Dr.
King.
Q: [unknown] And you're continuing it --
A: Right. Well, I think music's very powerful. I was really just
overwhelmed by the results of "We Are the World." The consciousness of
young people was starting to blur in with a lot of Yuppies, with their
quiche and Volvos, barbecue pits and "I need mine," and everything else,
and I think that one helped kids to think of somebody else outside of themselves.
Q: [unknown] And last night, when you blew out your [64th birthday]
candles... is it a secret wish?
A: That's a secret! [laughs]
Q: [RH] Last night was your first and only live performance of
the year. Why?
A: Yes. Well, number one, it's difficult to find the time. We've
got a lot of things going -- movies, television, all kinds of things --
and it takes a lot of work to put together a show, as Claude Nobs will
tell you. We need several key solo performers, and we need to rehearse,
and all this, a lot of demanding music. It's a time situation?
Q: [unknown] And what made you decide on this particular performance?
A: Well, my friends talked to me about it six months ago, they
called me a long time ago, you know, Leslie Bricusse and Ginny Mancini.
Henry Mancini was one of my closest friends, and it was kind of in his
honor, really. Henry was the first one to receive one, no?
Q: [unknown] No, he died just before.
A: I'm sorry. Somehow I just associate it with Henry, probably
because of Leslie and Ginny. They talked to me about it a long time; in
fact, they talked to me about it when we were doing the Oscars. I should
say, producing the Oscars.
Q: [unknown] And what was that experience like, producing the
Oscars?
A: It was like having a picnic at the end of a runway [laughs].
I conducted the Oscars in 1971 and had been on the board of governors for
a while, so I kind of was close to what it would feel like as a conductor,
but nothing can prepare you for the obstacles you run into trying to produce
the show. Because number one, nobody gets paid, and that's always difficult,
you know, when you have all of these names, and the names shift every five
minutes, and they hear about somebody doing something else, and "Well,
I don't want to do that, if so-and-so is doing that, then I want to do
Best Picture," you know, and it's just amazing. Up front, I had a little
talk with myself. We had done Clinton's inauguration, which was another
affair to try to get your hands around, because it's so big and long and
there are so many logistics, you need so many experienced people, hundreds
of experienced people. With the Oscars, I just decided that you can the
route with fear or with love. It's that simple. If you take fear, they
will keep every promise that you expect that is fear, 'cause they will
shake you to your knees. There are publicists and agents and everybody
just calling and banging you all the time; even people that you've known
a long, long time really get their nose out of joint, you know, if they
perceive that you not use them, or you've got them in the wrong category,
whatever it is. It's amazing how the ego controls desire, but you've just
got to deal with it, in a very polite and gentle way.
But it all finally came together. I think the biggest challenge is trying
to find where you can put your fingerprints in a show that has so many
given elements. Those awards "will" be given out, and there are songs and
so forth, so you have to find where you can fit it. Everybody says the
Oscars are awful, awful, awful, and what can you do to make it a little
bit better? So it's a challenge?
Q: [Swiss Film Music Society] And the group Stomp?
A: Stomp is almost like a family, you know. Stomp had just recorded
with me on Juke Joint, on the record Stomp, because the Brothers Johnson
record we did was the record that inspired their name, and we met and we
had a very strong affinity for each other work-wise and as people too,
and so we have a three-picture deal with them to do movies, because they're
very talented filmmakers. There's nobody like Stomp, and we're doing a
feature film right now called "Vacuums". I love their work. It's a silly
story set in 1909 when they started to invent the vacuum cleaner; they
come up with the most off the wall ideas. And the guy that own the vacuum
cleaner company has two twin sons that hate each other, and it's the passage
of time, so by the time you get to the 50s and 60s the father dies, and
they both inherit the money and everything else, so they split up the money,
and one takes one factory and the other takes the money and builds right
next door the exact same factory. I can't tell you any more than that,
but it's hilarious, and the silliest premise that anybody could ever have
for a movie, but it works with them, and they use their trademark dances
and rhythm all the way through it, and it fits like a glove, it progresses
the story. They're the best.
Q: [unknown] When does it come out?
A: I don't know. We're still working with script, and we have
to shoot and everything. They're very talented, though.
Q: [JB] How do you juggle all the responsibilities you now have?
You're doing records, you're doing films, you're doing television -- how
do you manage? When you come into the office in the morning, do you have
a bin here for records, and a bin for movies--
A: I have a list, I have just one list, like a top guide list
to remind me what I'm doing. But you know, after awhile I find it's all
the same thing. You start with a blank page. There's only two things, and
that's the song, or there's a story. That's what starts it all off. If
you're doing film, obviously it's gonna be a story. If you're doing a musical,
you need a story and some songs. I'm gonna work on a movie Spielberg's
doing, we've been talking about it for 15 years. But you have to get those
to elements together first, the story and the songs. If it's television,
that's a melody; really, you need a premise that has conflict and interest
and can run for five, six years. I like it. I think that change is as good
as a rest, it really is. All of it is challenging. Even the convergent
technology's very challenging, and we're into that very heavily, with all
the Spectrum stuff, microwave technology, a lot of stuff comin' down the
road, man!
Q: [Swiss Film Music Society] What do you think about internet?
A: It will be of use. I mean, it's used already. I don't think
the world can even comprehend how it's going to change civilization. When
all of the things come together... we've seen most of what's to come, with
the telephone companies. All the Baby Bells, all those powerful companies
that will enter into content and a different platform of carrier. When
they get intofiber optic and switching systems and video file services
and so forth, it'll certainly be another universe. The coaxial cable that
goes "both" ways? It's scary. It's Big Brother. Cause 'if it goes in, it
goes out too. We found that out when we were recording with Gloria Estefan
in Miami. I'm the godfather to her baby, and I said, "That sounds like
Emily Marie," and she said, "Yes, and I think she's hungry," so I said,
"Take ten and feed her," she's still breast-feeding. Boy, it was just like
you were there! [laughs] I mean, the sound is so perfect, and on and on.
The guy that invented THX for Lucas is now working on surround sound for
CD-ROM. The rate of growth is unbelievable as we move toward the 21st century.
And somehow, it's kind of scary. Q: [unknown] Quincy, your thoughts on
the use of music in films. I noticed in the screening this week of the
Mia Farrow/Dustin Hoffman film John and Mary, a very sparing use
of music... do you ever see the possibility of a wall to wall jazz score
in a film? What guides you there?
A: Well, you start off with the director. You have to support
the director's vision. And some know what they're doing, and some... I
was lucky to come up with Sydney Lumet, who has a good sense about scoring.
And it goes back to the studio system, when each studio had house orchestras,
like 55 piece orchestras. When I went to Universal, they had a house orchestra,
and a producer would come in and be looking around at the orchestra, and
if he'd see ten guys who weren't playing, he'd say, "I want my money's
worth. I want all the musicians to play "all" the time, "all" the way through
the movie." They felt that they were getting gypped if it wasn't a wall
to wall score.
Q: [unknown] Was that ever a problem on films you worked on?
A: No, no, fortunately. Well, one was, one western I did, but
it was a pretty bad film. And usually they think that music's gonna save
it at the last minute, when the dialogue's messed up, and the drama doesn't
work, and the characters aren't defined -- they think music's gonna save
it. Doesn't work like that. I mean, music helps a film immensely, but you
can't save a film.
Q: [unknown] You were saying that there's a song, and there's
a story...
A: That's the basics.
Q: [unknown] That's the basics. Now, I watched you last night
on stage, and saw Mr. Thielemans' playing harmonica "to" you, he was teasing
you, and I saw how much pleasure that gave you. Now, in film music, is
there that kind of teasing? I guess that's more in jazz--
A: No, we do that in everything, on all our records. That's the
feeling of the session. Toots has done maybe seven movies with me...The
Getaway, The Wiz, Walk Don't Run, many films. We're the same wherever
we go, out of control [laughs]. 'Cause it's about feeling, and understanding.
I love the way he plays, and I love to write music around him, behind him
of for him that presses his buttons.
Q: [unknown] And he presses your buttons--
A: That's what I'm saying. We press each other's buttons. That's
the greatest relationship in the world, you know. Turn each other on.
Q: [Belgium] Do you ever want to direct a movie?
A: Do I want to direct? Well, I think "everybody" does! [laughs].
But I think I'm realistic. A lot of directors... Hal Ashby was so generous...
up until the day he died, he was trying to get me to direct a film.
New Jack City was really kind of developed for me to direct, because
he was trying to knock-down all the theories directors have by showing
the correlation between movie directing and producing records. A record
producer is like a director and a producer of a film. You don't have to
ask anybody about the budget. You have to deal with performances from artists.
You have to cast it. You need a DP, engineers. There's a lot of similarities.
One day, maybe.
Q: [JB] Quincy, out of all the film and television scores that
you've written, which would you say you're the most proud of?
A: I'd say The Pawnbroker and In Cold Blood. I
really had a chance and time to get into the essence of the film, and I
felt like the score was a character in the film; it played an important
role in the film. There are moments where that happens. And I think some
parts of In the Heat of the Night... Sometimes there's that magic
moment where sound and image gets together that really takes you out, it
gets very emotional.
Immediately after the press conference, I had the opportunity to talk
to Quincy for a brief moment at the reception desk of the Palace Hotel.
What do you ask someone like Quincy Jones in a few seconds? The first thing
that came to mind was the impression he gave in the documentary Listen
Up: The Lives of Quincy Jones, which was screened the day before the
press conference. In the 1970s, Quincy suffered a ruptured aneurysm on
the right side of his brain. A few weeks later, he underwent a similar
operation to prevent an aneurysm on the left side. There was a 90 per cent
chance he could have become blind or paralysed as a result, but was remarkably
spared. And although these operations have scarred Quincy's body, they
have left his soul intact.
RH: I saw the documentary yesterday, and thought it was great.
I was wondering...how spiritual were you before your operations?
Quincy: I was pretty spiritual, but this takes you all the way
(laughs).
RH: I was very impressed by your comments. I thought it was a
very nice thing to say.
Quincy: Well, it's a big revelation.
Me: Thanks.
Quincy: Thank you.
Robert Hoshowsky would like to thank Swissair and the office of Switzerland
Tourism in Toronto for their generous assistance.
MailBag@filmscoremonthly.com
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