Tom Service Laments Hollywood's Reduction of Classical Music to Emotional Wallpaper
In a new weekly column delving into the world of classical music, critic Tom Service voices a poignant lament over Hollywood's tendency to turn profound pieces into what he describes as "slop" through relentless overuse. This critique comes alongside news of Philip Glass withdrawing his symphony from the Kennedy Center, highlighting the political undercurrents in the arts.
The Trivialisation of Classical Music in Public Spaces
Service recalls a telling incident from 2008, when Transport for London attempted to curb antisocial behaviour by piping classical music into stations in south London's crime hotspots. He reflects that this moment crystallised a troubling trend: classical music has become synonymous with relaxation rather than genuine emotional depth. Once an entire genre is branded as mere background noise, it risks alienating listeners who might dismiss it as irrelevant or elitist.
The playlist featured the finale of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony—a piece Service describes as "obsessive and wild," full of "harmonic grind and rhythmic assault." This radical, Dionysian music, originally crafted to push orchestras and audiences to their limits in the early 19th century, was reduced to calming, inoffensive aural wallpaper. Fast forward to today, and Service argues we have descended further into an era where mood and vibes dominate, with AI music generators churning out bland, arpeggio-laden slop under the "classical" label.
Hollywood's Role in Commodifying Classical Music
Service points the finger at cinema and television for starting this commodification, where classical music serves as a readymade signifier of pseudo-emotions—feelings manipulated into audiences regardless of their authenticity. In the wake of recent Oscar nominations, he highlights the repetitive use of Max Richter's track On the Nature of Daylight, most notably in the film Hamnet. Despite Richter's Oscar-nominated score for the film, the final scene reverts to this overused piece for maximum emotional impact.
Richter's composition, originally part of a 2003 anti-Iraq war protest album, is praised for its emptiness—lacking obvious expression, protest, or complexity. This very blankness allows it to be filled with whatever grand storytelling filmmakers desire, making it a go-to cliché for moments of serious contemplation or intensity. However, Service warns that such pieces have half-lives; Richter's track is nearing exhaustion, where its chords trigger predictable emotional responses rather than genuine artistry.
Cautionary Tales and the Path Forward
Service cites other examples of classical music worn thin by overuse:
- Barber's Adagio, once a soul-stirring accompaniment in Platoon, now a hackneyed symbol of melancholy.
- Debussy's Girl With the Flaxen Hair, reduced to a director's lazy choice from a classical compilation.
- Mozart's Lacrimosa from his Requiem, so overused in gothic contexts that it's nearly unlistenable outside concert halls.
He argues that as cinema trivialises classical music, public spaces like tube stations follow suit, sliding down the escalators of taste. To save the genre, Service suggests directors commission more original compositions instead of relying on lazy needle-drops. He champions Jerskin Fendrix's score for Bugonia as an Oscar-worthy example free from clichés.
Philip Glass's Political Stand and the Reality of Art
In a related development, Philip Glass has withdrawn the world premiere of his new symphony from the Kennedy Center, citing a conflict with the institution's values. Glass stated that his Symphony No. 15, a portrait of Abraham Lincoln, clashes with the Center's current stance. The Center's response—that "we have no place for politics in the arts"—is dismissed by Service as absurd, emphasising that art is inherently political.
Service concludes that Glass's cancellation speaks volumes, reminding us that classical music, like all art, is intertwined with power structures and funding sources. He ends by recommending Vladimir Jurowski's recording of Mahler's Ninth Symphony with the London Philharmonic, celebrating its forensic chaos and empathy as a counterpoint to Hollywood's oversimplifications.
