“Psycho” in the Cathedral, Part One

A Note from Steve: Hello, all. This post started off as a simple account of a concert I attended a few years back at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC, but it kept growing and growing until it threatened to overwhelm me and started thinking it was in charge! In fact, one night I awoke around 3 AM, and it was standing over my bed, its i’s in bold and its italic hands around my throat.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” I cried. 

“Oh, uh, nothing, nothing!” it replied, rapidly pulling its hands away as they returned to normal font. “Have a good night!” And it slouched out of the room in its Times New Roman size 11 shoes.

Chagrined, I realized I was going to have to act promptly and brutally to re-establish my authority. So the next morning while it was sitting cross-legged on the floor eating all the marshmallows from the Lucky Charms box and watching Bluey, I snuck up behind it, my red editor’s pencil poised, and chopped it into three humbler, more manageable pieces.

Here is Part One; Parts Two and Three will follow in the weeks to come. And if it gives you any trouble, tell me! I know how to handle it!

Steve

Bernard Herrmann Triptych and US stamp in his honor.

Psycho in the Cathedral

Part One

I remember the moment I fell under the spell of composer Bernard Herrmann.

It was sometime in the 1990s, and I was a member of a cassette-tape music club. I knew something of Herrmann’s work because I was a Hitchcock fan and thus had heard Herrmann’s scores for several of Hitch’s films.

I ordered and received a cassette of what now is considered a classic recording: Charles Gerhardt and the National Philharmonic Orchestra’s Citizen Kane (The Classic Film Scores of Bernard Herrmann). I hadn’t looked closely at the tracks when I ordered it, and I was disappointed when I did so after receiving the tape.

I had thought it was the entire score to Citizen Kane, but, no, it was excerpts—from Kane and from Herrmann’s scores for four other films, none of which I’d heard of: On Dangerous Ground, Beneath the 12-Mile Reef, Hangover Square, and White Witch Doctor. I put it in the tape player with low expectations.

This is the only type of serpent 

you will ever see me hold.

From the first crashing note of “The Death Hunt,”[i] I was enthralled.[ii] The orchestra raced along at breakneck speed, fortissimo, presto—powerful and suspenseful. Then the players moved on through the other titles, and there was so much variety in the works, I could hardly believe they were written by one man. Especially effective was Herrmann’s occasional use of an “obsolete” instrument that dates back perhaps as far as the 1500s, the serpent. Its bizarre, low timbre made the music especially gripping and eerie.

When the cassette’s last note—a rousing sforzando to finish off the wild ride that was White Witch Doctor— died away, I sat there in silence for a few seconds, mouth agape, and then said, “Wow! . . . Wow!” It was truly a life-changing moment.

From that point I was absolutely hooked on the works of Bernard Herrmann—or “Benny,” as I call him now, since he feels like an old friend.

From Citizen Kane to Taxi Driver

Bernard Herrmann was born in June 1911, and he died on Christmas Eve, 1975, at age sixty-four. [iii] He wrote his first film score—Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane—when he was about thirty, and the recording of his last score—Taxi Driver—was finished on December 23, 1975—just a few hours before his death.

In those thirty-odd years he wrote scores for some of Hollywood’s greatest classics:

·         The Devil and Daniel Webster, 1941 (Academy Award Winner, Best Score)[iv]

·         Jane Eyre, 1943

·         The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, 1947

·         The Day the Earth Stood Still, 1951

·         The Trouble with Harry, 1955

·         The Man Who Knew Too Much, 1956

·         The Wrong Man, 1956

·         Williamsburg: The Story of a Patriot, 1956[v]

·         Vertigo, 1958

·         North by Northwest, 1959

·         Journey to the Center of the Earth, 1959

·         Psycho, 1960

·         The Three Worlds of Gulliver, 1960

·         Cape Fear, 1961

·         The Birds, 1963[vi]

·       Fahrenheit 451, 1966

By the time Psycho came along, Herrmann and Hitch had worked together on five films, and Hitch completely trusted Herrmann’s judgment. When it came to the music for the first “slasher film,” Hitch had only one piece of instruction: “Do what you like, but only one thing I ask of you: please write nothing for the murder in the shower. That must be without music” (Smith, A Heart at Fire’s Center, 237).

As he watched the film in Hitch’s absence, Herrmann felt that the shower scene fell flat, so he went ahead and wrote the famous “shriek! shriek! shriek!” cue that has become synonymous with horror ever since.[vii] Later, Hitch and Herrmann got together to watch an early cut of the film that included Herrmann’s score. The shower scene was without music, as Hitch had mandated. Both agreed the scene didn’t work very well. Herrman later explained:

“I said, ‘I really do have something composed for it, and now that you’ve seen it your way, let’s try mine.’ We played him my version with the music. He said, ‘Of course, that’s the one we’ll use.’ I said, ‘But you requested that we not add any music.’ ‘Improper suggestion, my boy, improper suggestion,’ he said.” (Smith, 240)

The National Cathedral in Washington, DC.

Herrmann Renaissance

There was a renaissance of interest in Herrmann’s works—whether written for concert hall, radio, TV, or cinema—in the late 1990s/early 2000s. By now almost everything he ever wrote has been recorded and is available to anyone who is interested—and willing to do some digging.

Along with that renaissance came an increase in live concerts that featured Benny’s music, and I eagerly looked at the details of each one, but all were too far away for me to attend.

Until the spring of 2019.

That’s when I found out there was going to be an all-Herrmann concert on June 1 at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC. Why, I could drive that distance myself! I purchased a ticket for $65 and made my plans.

Early on Friday, May 30, I started out for Randallstown, Maryland, where my daughter-in-law’s parents live, to spend the night before the concert with them. Randallstown is roughly 90 minutes from DC, and Eric and Louise said they were glad to have me come.

I don’t remember why, but the drive from my home to theirs took much more time than the nine hours I had expected. I think I kept having to pull over to sleep. Anyway, I stayed in touch with Eric and Louise throughout the day, informing them as my arrival time slipped later and later. It was embarrassing, because I knew Louise had prepared a big meal for me. Finally, when I said, “It looks like I won’t be there till after 9,” she said, “Well, maybe we’ll go ahead and eat without you.”

“Oh, yes, please! You guys have been holding the meal and waiting for me? Please go ahead and eat! I’m so sorry!” I felt terrible for presuming on their kindness.

Suffice it to say it was a rough trip getting there alone, and by the time I arrived, my stomach was upset, and I was exhausted—so I never ate a bite of Louise’s meal! What a rotten houseguest I was!

Stay tuned for Part Two, in which I meet Bernard Herrmann’s daughters!

Photos and text copyright 2024, Steven Nyle Skaggs

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[i] Herrmann always insisted on doing his own orchestrations. Other film composers sketch out ideas but have others do the “grunt work” of writing out the complex orchestral score. For a terrific visual showing the complexity of a full orchestral score, enjoy “The Death Hunt” here. The powerful music alongside the complex visuals combine for a stunning experience.

[ii] The metallic crashing sound used throughout this cue was made by a percussionist whacking a brake drum with a hammer. Yes, a Volkswagen brake drum. That was the sound Herrmann wanted!

[iii] Music for the Movies: Bernard Herrmann is an excellent documentary on Herrmann’s life and music, and his definitive biography is A Heart at Fire’s Center by Steven C. Smith.

[iv] Thus Herrmann won the Academy Award for what was only his second film score.

[v] Williamsburg: The Story of a Patriot has been shown multiple times every day at Colonial Williamsburg since 1957. Well over 30 million people have seen it, and it is officially the longest-running film in history. Herrmann wrote the score pro bono because of his enthusiasm for the project.

[vi] The Birds has no written music score. Herrmann supervised the recording of the birds’ cries and flapping wings, which were produced electronically on a trautonium.

[vii] You can even hear it in Finding Nemo the first time fish-killer Darla Sherman shows up!