 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
Posted: |
Sep 27, 2015 - 5:47 PM
|
|
|
|
By: |
filmusicnow
(Member)
|
Frank Sinatra sure got around with composers. Did he know Jerry too?
see http://freeclyde.com/people/family/carrie_goldsmith2.html
Both my parents loved to tell stories about their-oh-so brief sojourn with Frank Sinatra. They went out to dinner with Sinatra a couple of times, and Dad did three pictures with Sinatra: The Detective, Von Ryan’s Express, and a television movie called Contract on Cherry Street.
“Sinatra had music approval on all of his films,” Dad said, “and he was terribly musical.”
My father made this understatement to end all understatements without realizing it. When it came to the finer technicalities of music mechanics, Dad was a Black and White literalist: people without formal training were illiterate—they weren’t musicians. Frank Sinatra could be musical, according to my father’s unwritten evaluative code, but the century’s most iconoclastic songster was no musician.
In 1964, we had just moved back to Los Angeles from Catalina Island and were staying at a hotel in Westwood while the construction on our new house in Encino was completed. Dad had gone to a Monday Night Concert at UCLA, and when he returned after the concert, he found Mom dancing around, trying to contain her excitement in the quiet of sleeping children and shared hotel walls.
“Frank Sinatra’s trying to get a hold of you!” she whispered loudly. “He’s called three times!”
Dad called Sinatra back.
“So, your wife tells me you’ve been at a concert," Sinatra said.
“Yes,” Dad replied.
“Were you giving the concert, or attending?” Sinatra asked, which at the time was a fairly uninformed question; my father was a studio composer, he didn’t concertize. “Attending,” Dad replied.
“Oh,” Sinatra said. “What are you doing in February?”
“Nothing,” Dad said.
“Then you’d better see me,” Sinatra said. “At Fox. I’m shooting there on Stage 14, 3:00 tomorrow.”
Dad went to Fox the next day, and when he walked on the set, he was surrounded by men in German military garb—a slightly disconcerting feeling for a Jewish boy from the Crenshaw district. Dad looked around and finally heard his name called out. He turned, and a man in a German uniform introduced himself as Frank Sinatra. The famous singer and Academy Award winning actor recognized my dad before Dad recognized him.
Isn't it unique that since Goldsmith and Elmer Bernstein scored three films starring Sinatra, that all three of them were one time Oscar winners (but should've been nominated for more). And do you think it was Sinatra who told Jerry to come up with those Tommy Dorseyesque trombone solos in the main title for "Contract On Cherry Street"?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Frank Sinatra sure got around with composers. Did he know Jerry too?
see http://freeclyde.com/people/family/carrie_goldsmith2.html
Both my parents loved to tell stories about their-oh-so brief sojourn with Frank Sinatra. They went out to dinner with Sinatra a couple of times, and Dad did three pictures with Sinatra: The Detective, Von Ryan’s Express, and a television movie called Contract on Cherry Street.
“Sinatra had music approval on all of his films,” Dad said, “and he was terribly musical.”
My father made this understatement to end all understatements without realizing it. When it came to the finer technicalities of music mechanics, Dad was a Black and White literalist: people without formal training were illiterate—they weren’t musicians. Frank Sinatra could be musical, according to my father’s unwritten evaluative code, but the century’s most iconoclastic songster was no musician.
In 1964, we had just moved back to Los Angeles from Catalina Island and were staying at a hotel in Westwood while the construction on our new house in Encino was completed. Dad had gone to a Monday Night Concert at UCLA, and when he returned after the concert, he found Mom dancing around, trying to contain her excitement in the quiet of sleeping children and shared hotel walls.
“Frank Sinatra’s trying to get a hold of you!” she whispered loudly. “He’s called three times!”
Dad called Sinatra back.
“So, your wife tells me you’ve been at a concert," Sinatra said.
“Yes,” Dad replied.
“Were you giving the concert, or attending?” Sinatra asked, which at the time was a fairly uninformed question; my father was a studio composer, he didn’t concertize. “Attending,” Dad replied.
“Oh,” Sinatra said. “What are you doing in February?”
“Nothing,” Dad said.
“Then you’d better see me,” Sinatra said. “At Fox. I’m shooting there on Stage 14, 3:00 tomorrow.”
Dad went to Fox the next day, and when he walked on the set, he was surrounded by men in German military garb—a slightly disconcerting feeling for a Jewish boy from the Crenshaw district. Dad looked around and finally heard his name called out. He turned, and a man in a German uniform introduced himself as Frank Sinatra. The famous singer and Academy Award winning actor recognized my dad before Dad recognized him.
Isn't it unique that since Goldsmith and Elmer Bernstein scored three films starring Sinatra, that all three of them were one time Oscar winners (but should've been nominated for more). And do you think it was Sinatra who told Jerry to come up with those Tommy Dorseyesque trombone solos in the main title for "Contract On Cherry Street"?
Elmer Bernstein scored FOUR films starring Frank Sinatra, if you include CAST A GIANT SHADOW (1966).
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Frank Sinatra sure got around with composers. Did he know Jerry too?
see http://freeclyde.com/people/family/carrie_goldsmith2.html
Both my parents loved to tell stories about their-oh-so brief sojourn with Frank Sinatra. They went out to dinner with Sinatra a couple of times, and Dad did three pictures with Sinatra: The Detective, Von Ryan’s Express, and a television movie called Contract on Cherry Street.
“Sinatra had music approval on all of his films,” Dad said, “and he was terribly musical.”
My father made this understatement to end all understatements without realizing it. When it came to the finer technicalities of music mechanics, Dad was a Black and White literalist: people without formal training were illiterate—they weren’t musicians. Frank Sinatra could be musical, according to my father’s unwritten evaluative code, but the century’s most iconoclastic songster was no musician.
In 1964, we had just moved back to Los Angeles from Catalina Island and were staying at a hotel in Westwood while the construction on our new house in Encino was completed. Dad had gone to a Monday Night Concert at UCLA, and when he returned after the concert, he found Mom dancing around, trying to contain her excitement in the quiet of sleeping children and shared hotel walls.
“Frank Sinatra’s trying to get a hold of you!” she whispered loudly. “He’s called three times!”
Dad called Sinatra back.
“So, your wife tells me you’ve been at a concert," Sinatra said.
“Yes,” Dad replied.
“Were you giving the concert, or attending?” Sinatra asked, which at the time was a fairly uninformed question; my father was a studio composer, he didn’t concertize. “Attending,” Dad replied.
“Oh,” Sinatra said. “What are you doing in February?”
“Nothing,” Dad said.
“Then you’d better see me,” Sinatra said. “At Fox. I’m shooting there on Stage 14, 3:00 tomorrow.”
Dad went to Fox the next day, and when he walked on the set, he was surrounded by men in German military garb—a slightly disconcerting feeling for a Jewish boy from the Crenshaw district. Dad looked around and finally heard his name called out. He turned, and a man in a German uniform introduced himself as Frank Sinatra. The famous singer and Academy Award winning actor recognized my dad before Dad recognized him.
Isn't it unique that since Goldsmith and Elmer Bernstein scored three films starring Sinatra, that all three of them were one time Oscar winners (but should've been nominated for more). And do you think it was Sinatra who told Jerry to come up with those Tommy Dorseyesque trombone solos in the main title for "Contract On Cherry Street"?
Elmer Bernstein scored FOUR films starring Frank Sinatra, if you include CAST A GIANT SHADOW (1966).
And Goldsmith's orchestrator Arthur Morton even worked with Nelson Riddle on the score for "Robin And The Seven Hoods".
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
