Jerry Goldsmith in Seville
The 7 of November of 1998 will not be a day that will be easily forgotten, at least for whom write this; in spite of the fact that the 4th of the same month Jerry Goldsmith offered a concert of music by Bernard Herrmann, to which unfortunately I could not attend, three days afterwards the Master offered a splendid sample of his own production. The Theatre of the Maestranza of Seville was
Goldsmith salutes to the numerous audience
practically full, and the feast began punctually at nine o'clock with the potent Fanfare for the 70th Academy Awards (1998); immediately after, the Real Symphonic Orchestra of Seville performed one of the most awaited pieces of the night, the foreseeable suite of Star Trek: Insurrection (1998). Days, even months before of the concert, even though there was no trace of the plot of the ninth part of the saga of the Enterprise, already were speculated in certain fan circuits what direction was going to take Goldsmith to compose his main theme; it seemed more than evident to suppose that he would be tried, again, a lyric theme given the precedent of Star Trek: First Contact (1996) that continued the standard begun in Rudy (1993): a grandiose theme, presented by the solo of a flute or an oboe, recaptured by the strings and then carried all over the orchestra in a tremendous crescendo to a tutti terminated by the kettledrums. In fact the principal theme of Star Trek: Insurrection is a lyric one, but different in form and in orchestration; without becoming so beautiful (at least in a first hearing) to the theme of Powder (1995), here Goldsmith goes more intimate conceding the melodic force to the flute and to the harp, an evident trademark but resigning in part to the bored plan before exposed. The suite continued the formal structure of the End Credits of all his previous works in the series: the fanfare of Alexander Courage would introduce the mythical march composed by Goldsmith for the first movie, mixing subtly the end of the triomphal march with the new theme, presented here in Seville in a world premiere. The people exploded in plaudits. But yet had not begun the night: The orchestra performed at the millimeter the suite of Mulan (1998), such and as appears in the disk, and the percussion was beginning to give a very good impression in spite of its simple assignment in this piece. Then it comes the best of the concert, the suite of Planet of the Apes (1968), constituted by the cues The Search Continues, The Clothes Snatchers and, of course, The Hunt; precisely the most difficult piece to perform was the better one solved, with a percussion deigns of the original, simply memorable. Goldsmith's orchestration was preserved practically intact, with the hunt horns and other effects substituted by small arrangements for horns and adjustments in the percussion. To palliate the stupor of the less dealt in the gender nothing better than the Small Creatures Suite, that were composed of a lucky arrangement of the principal march of Small Soldiers (1998) and the suite of Gremlins (1984). With The Edge (1997) concluded the first part of the concert.
My recently signed disk

The Second Part began with the suite of First Knight (1995), and I hold that the American composer would have to have introduced in the same some unpublished passage that included the magnificent theme of Lancelot, that it does not appear in the disk but that in the movie makes it in three or four occasions; again an splendid interpretation on which emphasized the metals. Also in a world premiere, Goldsmith presented a magnificent concert suite of L.A. Confidential (1997), and simply memorable were the twelve minutes of the "Prologue" of The Agony and the Ecstasy (1965), that counted on some excellent interpretation levels of the principal violin, harp, horns, cello and flute. Goldsmith allowed then to salute when the public was capsized in plaudits at the end of the performance. Then it came a suite of The Ghost and the Darkness (1996), short but intense, and to end, the cherry of the cake: the famous General Suite put on stand half of the Theatre. The success was seen compensated with the encores, first the principal theme of Air Force One (1997) that the audience answered with a clamorous applause, and then with a suite of The Shadow (1994); after that the people was crazy, and left fired toward the access door with the objective of obtaining an autograph. But Goldsmith returned again, and organized a voting to see what the people wanted to hear again: some were requesting Gremlins, but to Goldsmith was not seeming in the mood for it, and when he proposed The Ghost and the Darkness a lot of hands were raised. The response to the new encore was unanimous: applause, yells, flashes,... someone gave him a branch of roses and a sevillian hat: Goldsmith put it on and the people applauded with renewed forces. They were affectionate moments.
I cannot describe the edginess of the people that were crowded after the double leaf doors to obtain the appraised autograph; nearly all they were from Seville, but there was people from Madrid, Barcelona or Valencia. Some were carrying Basic Instinct (1992), other Masada (1981): I never had sweated so much as then, and almost I remain outside. Finally I could enter with other five persons (Goldsmith only was signing a CD, or what would be, by person and was not permitted to make photographs), and to see my copy in CD of Under Fire (1983) signed, on which it said "For David, Jerry Goldsmith". I cannot, by less, that to attempt to convince me that it actually happens, that it was not a dream, that I was before, probably, the best cinematographic composer of all the times. D.R.C.


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