REVIEW: House of Sand and Fog

I truly think that in the age of big-bang-blowemaway action scoring, something has been lost from the power of intimacy in music. One of the factors that draws me repeatedly to James Horner’s work is the level of character based intimacy that he shows in his scores. He always gets into the nitty-gritty of feeling and emotion, and adds a third dimension to characters--a dimension that the music implies but never explicitly states. I almost see this form of scoring to be more aggressive than throwing upon layer upon layer of drums, pounding synths, choppy strings, and accented brass blurts at a volume that makes a person wish for the days when their kids banged pots and pans.

Okay, so I’m venturing into melodrama, but you get the point. There’s something that intimate music does to you that is like wrapping yourself up in a warm blanket and cuddling up in it. There’s a factor of contentment, joy, and comfort. Without a doubt, House of Sand and Fog is one of Horner’s most intimate scores for what is a truly intimate film. The film, a personal favorite, is certainly no walk in the park. The same can be said for Horner’s score if you are not in the right mood for it.

I need to get this out of the way as a prerequisite to the review. House of Sand and Fog is a score I can listen to only when the conditions are right. The temperature must be chilly--not cold, but chilly. It must be nighttime, dead quiet, pitch black, and I must lay in bed with a blanket on me, my eyes closed, and have no distractions what-so-ever. If even one of these conditions is off, the score instantly becomes bland and boring and I have to quit listening. If all these conditions are met, then this score comes alive as a vibrant, emotional, incredibly moving work that is sure to affect your mood. It is a feeling I cannot describe--House of Sand and Fog, pure and simple, is a very moving work.

Before I go on, I just want to say that House of Sand and Fog affects me emotionally in a way I have a very hard time describing the score and how I feel about it, so please forgive my rambling and vagueness if you come across it.
Horner orchestrated House of Sand and Fog himself, not really a surprise considering this is the type of project he likes to envelope himself in. This project was an extra challenge for Horner, as reports online suggested that director Vadim Perelman didn’t want the typical Horner score, and wanted something far more restrained. This is exactly how Horner approached the project. He restrained his writing and his orchestra, but in that restraint, created pure beauty.

As he would do with Flightplan two years down the line, Horner strips the orchestra of the brass section, yielding an orchestra dominated by strings, percussion, piano, and keyboarding. But unlike Flightplan, House of Sand and Fog is centered around the strings and, even more so, the piano. Most of the cues on the album are either solo piano pieces or pieces where the strings, wistful violins and violas that are complimented by the cello and bass and exotic sounding percussion, are joined by the piano playing over them, creating what I can only describe as a windy breezy.

I’m not sure how better to describe the atmosphere of House of Sand and Fog as anything other than breezy. And I don’t mean breezy in the sense of laid back and casual. I mean it in the sense that it has the same quiet, peaceful effect as listening to a fall day’s breeze. Most of the string notes written for this score are long, held notes--whole, two or three wholes tied. They tend to cascade up and down the musical scale, sometimes emulating the waves of the sea where the cascades range from higher to lower notes with the stand-out instrumental group (violins or violas) playing harmonically to the higher and lower ends of their music range (ex. “The Waves of the Caspian Sea”) or to the center of their range and lower (ex. “Behrani's Thoughts - Long Ago,” “Old Photos, New Memories). Sometimes this is not a quick process. Sometimes the cascade will take minutes to complete a full wave. Sometimes it will happen in seconds. Horner varies the speed and variety of the string cascades to create the atmosphere of wistfulness, longing, upset, and grief. Sometimes these cascades are transferred to a synthesized female voice, as in “Kathy’s Night,” to absolutely stunning and breathtaking effect. The main theme of the score--if you can really call it that--is based on a subset of the string cascading heard in “The Waves of the Caspian Sea.” I hesitate to call it a theme since it more blends with the intimacy, texture, and subtlety of the score rather than standing out as something that is developed enough and appears enough that it is a true thematic presence. I personally see it more as a recurring musical emotion rather than a theme, but then again, that’s one of the major components to a theme, so it is up to you to decide.

One of, if not the most important components to this score, especially during the center portion of this score, is the piano. Horner writes simple piano parts that are to be played over the strings. I don’t want to call them melodies, because occasionally they are singular chords (aside from his trademark “thrum,” which is used here to great benefit as well) that are brought together to compliment the string cascades. The piano is quite soft and never is used to overpower the strings, but to compliment them. The simplicity of the piano parts gives them a tenderness and softness that I’m not quite sure Horner had written up to that point, and really no so much after, either (maybe here and there during The Forgotten and The New World). Occasionally the piano is brought together to play a slight, fragile melody that goes something like, “bah bum, bah bum bah BAH bum,” or “bum, BAM bum, bum” for lack of better phrasing, that almost feels like he’s using the piano to simulate the the rhythm of flowing tears. I have no idea if this is what was his intent, but it sure gives me that feeling. Its a warm, inviting melody, appearing most prominently in the gorgeous piano solo “Two People,” (of which there is another later on) and further around the score (I looked at my iPod during “The Dreams of Kings”). Again, I see these as a recurring musical emotion rather than a theme.

Of course, Horner is no slouch when it comes to detail. The score is peppered with exotic percussion and synthesizers. House of Sand and Fog is augmented, aside with Horner’s stylistic tolling bells, with various chimes and strange drum hits used in quick hits to emote a feeling of forboding, but also to give an Arab flavor to the score (certainly not overbearing or grindingly ethnic, and they blend perfectly in with the strings and piano). A lot of the synthesizer sounds in Horner’s post House of Sand and Fog scores debuted here, though with many more variations. There are strange sounds, but rather than interfere, they are used either in quick hits (in a variant of the “plucked steel drums” as I call them) or in long, wistful sounds, unlike Horner’s usual sounds. Some of his usual sounds, such as the “steam kettle” as I hear it called, are put to the forefront to add to and amplify the breezy feeling of the orchestra.

As I said earlier, I have to be in just the right mood to get these feelings from House of Sand and Fog. If I am even the slightest bit off, the long, held notes override my ability to enjoy the cascades and instead I hear go nowhere nothingness and the score becomes excruciatingly boring (I know this would be 100% the case if I listened to the score any earlier than 10pm). I have had times where I shut the score off in disgust, I won’t lie about it. But as I did the other night, when I listened to this score after All The King’s Men, I fell into the peace and the emotion his score has buried within it and was moved as the music enveloped me, and the breezy wistfulness took me with it.

I’m sure there are those reading that think I’m certifiably crazy after reading this review, but that is exactly how I hear the music. My point to discussing my listening conditions it that I’d bet there will be those who become bored to death on their first listen. In the restraint and seeming simplicity of this score, that’s easy to do. But this score isn’t quite that simple, and it takes a lot of searching and close listening to appreciate the finer moments. This is not a score to listen to while typing an e-mail or writing a report. It is not a score that is remotely possible to be enjoyed while doing anything that takes your mind from it. It is a cerebral, engulfing score, and if you treat it like that, I bet you’ll find that you’ll take a lot more from this score than you knew was there. And I bet you will be moved.

**** out of 5.