The 15 disc-set
Morricone - The Complete Edition (*) gives a pretty good idea of the unique width and depth of Morricone’s genius. It goes from vulgar kitch — and I use that description in the most positive and even deeply admiring sense — through bizarre electro-acoustic sonic experiments, lightweight pop ditties, lush symphonic romanticism, neo-baroque (undoubtedly as strong, if not stronger, a musical muscle in Morricone’s body of work as any 20th century musical conquest), adventurous avant-garde, … to the wonderful lyricism that Morricone is best known for. Quite amazing.
(*) With genius of a morriconean size, no edition, no matter how large, can ever claim to be complete of course, but apart from that, the title of this collection is as well-chosen as it could be.
So yes, most amazing. But not surprising, I find. I always felt that embracing musical banalities, clichés and vulgar kitch, within an otherwise often sophisticated and richly varied musical universe, is a sign of supreme greatness. Nino Rota does that too. As did Stravinsky. And Zappa. (The two greatest examples, as far as I’m concerned.) And Ellington. And Mingus. All of these people used clichés, banalities and trivialties as totally valid bricks, among far more complex material, to build their musical edifices with. And, importantly, they don’t do it ironically, the way smaller musical minds would do it, but they adopt, absorp and work with such material with genuine interest, love and care.
The reason I say that it is, in my opinion, a sign of supreme greatness, is because I really do believe that it takes an exceptional musical mind to recognize the power and beauty of banality and cliché, use them well, and be able to weave them into one's musical language sincerely, confidently and convincingly.
Lesser composers can’t go there because, when they do, they get invariably stuck in the quicksand of sentimentality, or they deliver forced and dishonest pastiche, or bland, facile and formulaic eager-to-please-ness.
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