El coste de la insularidad y sus otras consecuencias

In this study I analyze the use of rock song as film music in Russian cinema during the Soviet period and also in the first decade immediately after it. My focus is not on the characteristics of the music itself or on how to define rock as a musical genre, but rather on tracing the path of a single idiom in the overall structure of films over three decades. It is an attempt to describe conventions in film music with special regard for

24 Interestingly, Eagle sees the film as connected with the gangster films of the 1930s.

Furthermore, he reads Brother’s gangsters as descendants of Assa’s and The Needle’s heroes who are entangled in the criminal world, yet he does not discuss this connection in terms of the music. Furthermore, what are left out of the discussion are the actual

gangster films of the perestroika period, namely, Criminals by Law (Vory v zakone, 1988).

a specific idiom, but it is also about discovering possible changes in those conventions over time.

The central theoretical focus of this study is on film music narratology as originated by Claudia Gorbman (1987) and further developed by Guido Heldt (2013). My perspective on these theories is that of a scholar coming from Russian philology, and therefore, I place film music narratology in the wider context of a formalist and structural-semiotic view of art (Èjhenbaum 1927; Šklovskij 1925 [1917]; Tyn’janov 1977 [1924] & 1977 [1927]; Tynianov 1981 [1924]; Lotman 1990

& 2005).²⁵ From this perspective, I want to address some key issues and concepts in this chapter relating to music’s placement on film. This entails discussing the overall structural principles of film as a narrative art form, music’s relation to levels of narration, and how music can affect modes of discourse and perceptions of authorial agency. At the end of this subchapter, I will describe the basic principles of my analytical method: what to look for in a close reading of the role of music as a structural element of film narratives.

Despite being a highly eclectic group of scholars, the Russian formalists in and around the 1920s succeeded in describing certain universal structural principles of literature and other art forms.²⁶ For this purpose, they created specific terminology, some of which is still used today.²⁷ The starting point for the formalist method was to

25 The references to the early formalist articles are mainly made to the online versions and therefore lack references to page numbers. In the case of Èjhenbaum 1927 references are made to section numbers I-IX. Lotman 2005 is a fairly recent re-publication of Lotman’s collected works in which I refer to two principal early studies, Struktura

hudožestvennogo teksta (“The Structure of Art-Text”), which was originally published in 1970, and Semiotika kino i problemy kinoestetiki (“The Semiotics of Cinema and

Questions of Film Aesthetics”), originally published in 1973.

26 The main formalist texts discuss literature, prose, and poetry, but the universal characteristics described in them are applicable to all art forms. The formalists wrote specific texts on film as well; nevertheless, the most useful for film analysis are actually the texts dealing with literature, see Thompson 1981: 31. For a general description of Russian formalism’s relationship to film theory, see Eagle 1981 and Christie 1998.

27 Their concepts were revived specifically in the context of Anglo-American film studies in the 1980s as neo-formalist film studies by Kristin Thompson (1981 & 1988) and David Bordwell (1985). See also Bordwell & Thompson 2008.

focus on the immanent features of the work of art itself and look at how art is constructed.

From the formalist perspective, the traditional barrier between form and content is broken down; instead, a work of art can be divided into its structure and its material (Èjhenbaum 1927: III; Šklovskij 1925 [1917]). Several different works of art can use the same material and what differentiates them is their individual structure. Certain general structural principles are shared among works of the same type or genre, but the specific workings and details of that structure are unique to that individual piece, and in that sense form becomes the primary content of art (Èjhenbaum 1927: III, V).

When it comes to narrative art forms, such as novels or films, the division between material and structure is manifested in the division between fabula and sjužet. These two concepts are perhaps the most wide-spread and the longest-lasting legacy of the formalist method.²⁸ The story that is being narrated is called the fabula, whereas sjužet refers to the way the story is manifested in the structure (Èjhenbaum 1927: IV). Basically, it is the difference between what is being told (fabula) and how it is told (sjužet): the individual sjužet of a particular film is the only thing that separates it from other films narrating the same fabula.²⁹

A work of art consists of elements that have specific functions within its structure.

Each element gains meaning through its relationship to the whole structure and through its specific function in that structure. This turns the element into a device.

For example, a song heard in a film is not just a song; its meaning depends on its placement within that particular film structure: where and how it is placed, what its function is and how it relates to all the other, musical and non-musical elements in the film. This also means that in another structure (another film for example) the same element (song) can be used in an entirely different function. This becomes

28 They are sometimes translated as story and plot; see, for example, Bordwell & Thompson 2008: 76.

29 Sjužet is often interpreted as merely the specific sequencing of the fabula in an individual film (see, for example, Heldt 2013: 50-51). This interpretation has led David Bordwell (1985: 50) to speak of three categories: fabula, sjužet, and style in film. I opt for a more simplistic categorization, which is in accordance with Tyn’janov’s perception, that is, to interpret sjužet as a concept that encompasses both the specific sequence of events and all stylistic elements.

evident when comparing, for example, the use of the song ”Singin’ in the Rain” in the film musical of the same title made in 1952 and in the film A Clockwork Orange (UK-USA, 1971).

The devices are always motivated in some way within the structure (Èjhenbaum 1927: V). For formalists, there are three types of motivation: compositional, realistic, and artistic. Neoformalist film scholar Kristin Thompson describes compositional motivation in narrative artforms to involve matters of continuity and internal logic, whereas realistic motivation appeals “to notions from the real world to justify the presence of a device” (1988: 16). Artistic motivation is something that pervades all art, yet it is often hidden behind the other motivation types: “artistic motivation can exist by itself, without the other [...] types, but they can never exist independently without it” (Thompson 1988: 19). If the motivation, especially of the first two types, is done convincingly enough, the result is that the element seems to be the essential part and just happens to perform certain functions in the structure. In fact, it often is the other way around; the element is present only because certain functions need to be performed in order for the structure to work. It is a process that, in a sense, naturalizes and even hides the structure. David Bordwell (1985: 36) has added a fourth type to the formalist categories of motivation, called transtextual motivation, which means that a device is motivated through conventions established in other, similar works of art. Thompson (1988: 17) uses the example of operas, in which the fact that characters sing instead of speak is motivated transtextually.³⁰ If the

motivation is inadequate or missing or deconstructed in some way within the art-text itself, the text reveals its own structure, drawing attention to its own nature as art.

This is called “the baring of the device” (Èjhenbaum 1927: V).

In general, the structure of an artwork is not static. It is dynamic, as it foregrounds certain elements, devices, or functions at the expense of others (Tynianov 1981 [1924]: 33).³¹ Certain art forms foreground certain elements by genre: for example, 30 Thompson (1988: 17) also points out that even in operas, the type of motivation for the singing may vary: realistically motivated arias may be included amidst the transtextually motivated ones. Thompson mentions “Voi che sapete che cosa è amor” in Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro as one example.

31 For discussion on the concept of foregrounding in relation to the concept of the dominant, see Thompson 1988: 89-91.

rhythm is a dominant feature of poetry, and as a device it deforms all other elements, which become subordinated to it. The dynamics of foregrounding can also take place within the structure of individual pieces of narrative art – for example, in a certain scene in a film, certain elements may be foregrounded at the expense of others, but in the next scene they recede to the background and other elements are pushed forward.

The overall aim of art is the deconstruction of automatized perception; in other words, art’s primary purpose is the process of “making strange” (“ostranenije”) (Šklovskij 1925 [1917]).³² This is achieved by complicating the formal elements of a given work so that perception is slowed down (Šklovskij 1925 [1917]; Èjhenbaum 1927: III). It can be said that art is a dynamic structure of unobstructed and

obstructed perception. In terms of cinema, David Bordwell (1985: 149-310) defined different modes of narration that essentially correspond to different degrees of complication and deformation of the material. Classic narration aims primarily at smooth, unobstructed perception, whereas art-cinema narration deforms the classic principles to a certain (conventional) degree, while parametric narration aims at complete deformation (Bordwell 1985: 149-310).

The Tartu-Moscow school of structural semiotics and especially Jurij Lotman (1990; 2005) from the late 1960s onward developed the formalist method further.

Lotman’s contribution expanded the notion of “text” to cover all art forms; these art-texts are defined by their boundaries and the process of their interpretation can be referred to as “reading” (2005: 62). The individual elements in the structure of the art-text acquire meaning through syntagmatic and paradigmatic relationships: that is, through parallels and contrasts with other elements within the text itself and with similar elements in other art-texts (Lotman 2005: 87-101).

On the level of both paradigmatic and syntagmatic relations, a tension can be found between two tendencies, familiarity and deformation, which Lotman calls the unmarked and the marked elements (Lotman 2005: 313-314). On the level of the paradigmatic relations, this means the tension between following convention and breaking the rules of convention, which nevertheless gains meaning only through contrast to the rule it breaks. For example, in cinema the use of color film and black 32 Thompson (1988: 10-11) translates this word as defamiliarization.

and white film creates a binary pair of contrasting elements, in which the use of one or the other in a film is an aesthetic choice that activates both elements. In

contemporary cinema a film shot entirely in black and white (marked element) necessarily enters into a discussion with the dominant use of color film (unmarked element). However, the film can include individual shots of color film within its own structure, in which case they will represent the marked element within the overall context of the black and white (unmarked).

An important aspect of the structural semiotics of the Tartu-Moscow school is the methodological perception that meaning in art-texts, at least those created within the Russian cultural sphere, is constructed in binary models (Lotman & Uspenskii 1985).

The pattern of similarities and differences is thus not only structural but also semantic. This means that, through the structure of an art-text, a pattern is created whereby certain concepts are drawn together as parallels and then contrasted with a set of seemingly oppositional concepts. Each individual art-text defines within its own boundaries its own set of binary oppositions and the logic of similarities and differences among them (syntagmatic relation). However, certain cultures, time periods, or genres may have a hegemonic way of placing certain concepts in binary opposition in a specific way (paradigmatic relation). Thus, the same models may be found in several texts, and this feature unifies the texts into a coherent group.³³

Neither the formalists nor the structural-semioticians wrote very much about the role of music as an element in the structure of film. However, the approach manifested by the film music narratologists can be seen as a logical continuation of many of the issues discussed above. For narratology, when it comes to music on film, the primary question is which level of narration the music is depicted as coming from. This means determining whether the music is non-diegetic or diegetic, a distinction that

33 See, for example, typical binary models of Russian culture in Lotman & Uspenskii 1985;

typical binary models in descriptions of the city of St. Petersburg in nineteenth century literature in Toporov 2003; the cyclical alteration of two contrasting binary models in descriptions of Russian architecture in Papernyj 2006 [1996].

has been the center of attention ever since Claudia Gorbman’s (1987) seminal work on the topic.³⁴

Non-diegetic music is music that remains outside the diegesis and is meant for the ears of the audience only; its presence in films is a matter of convention (Gorbman 1987: 1, 3). This is the music that is often regarded as proper film music.³⁵ It is typically seen as an unobtrusive element running smoothly in the background, subordinated to the visual elements and the narrative. This is how music is conventionally used in films of the classic Hollywood era, the basic principles of which were described by Gorbman (1987: 73-91). The principles outline the key functions of music in film as the following: to highlight and signify emotion, to provide narrative cueing, to create formal and rhythmic continuity, and to create overall unity through repetition and variation. The key principles are essentially in alignment with the formalist notion of hiding the device, as the primary purpose is to maintain invisibility of the audio equipment and inaudibility of the music. This means that the music is not supposed to draw attention to itself, but rather make the narrative as smooth as possible.³⁶

Diegetic music, on the other hand, is music that has a source within the diegesis, that is, the storyworld, of the film (Gorbman 1987: 22). It is music that is heard by the film characters as well as the audience. A typical way of telling the audience that

34 Earlier, the terms applied were “background music” and “source music,” yet various other names were also used, all of which have problematic implications, which Gorbman’s shift to narratology erased; on Gorbman’s role as initiator, see Buhler 2001: 40; Heldt 2013:

19, 48.

35 See Brown 1994: 22: “film music, in its ‘pure’ state, is non-diegetic.” Also for Lexmann (2006: 16) film music is “dramatic underscore music,” whereas “source music is a specific case of noise.” This is also a value judgment, which manifests itself in the fact that before Gorbman’s narratological turn all books devoted to the topic in Anglo-American film music studies mainly discussed non-diegetic music, with the exception of Source Music in Motion Pictures by Irene Kahn Atkins (1983).

36 However, this does not mean that the use of music in films of the classic Hollywood era never deviates from this norm. There are moments, just as in any set of art-texts, that work against the convention in a self-reflexive manner. Gorbman also mentions this (1987: 3) and adds a seventh principle of the classic use of non-diegetic music: “A given film score may violate any of the principles above, providing the violation is at the service of the other principles.” (1987: 73). The degree to which the music participates in creating “smoothness” can also be seen in Bordwell’s (1985: 149-310) terms as the difference between classic, art-cinema and parametric narration.

the music is diegetic is a source shot, a visual representation showing where the music is supposedly coming from. However, the music’s source need not always be visually presented; there can also be a source sound. This means some kind of aural clue informing the audience about the music’s diegetic nature: for example, the scratching of a record player’s needle or the sound of a radio buzzing. Sometimes the extramusical characteristics of the music heard can also function as source indicators:

low volume or low fidelity or some other kind of defects in the sound reproduction.

Furthermore, visual sources and sound clues are not the only indicators of music’s diegeticity. An image of people dancing or a simple question, “What is this music?”

can serve as a source indicator just as well as an image of a record spinning or an orchestra playing.

Gorbman (1987: 20-21) originally derived the concepts of non-diegetic and diegetic music from Gérard Genette’s and Etienne Souriau’s “diegesis” meaning the storyworld, the narrated space-time continuum.³⁷ Non-diegetic applies to everything that can be considered not to be a part of that story world. Non-diegetic elements in film are all of the film’s formal and stylistic elements (Bordwell & Thompson 2008:

77). Thus the distinction between diegetic and non-diegetic is more or less relevant to everything that we see and hear in film. Yet it becomes most evident in the use of music. This is because music is, if not the only element, then at least the most explicit structural element that is able to occupy and move freely between the two levels of the narrative (Gorbman 1987: 3-4, 22).

Overall, the distinction between non-diegetic and diegetic music is not unknown to Russian film musicologists. Egorova speaks of “off-frame” and “on-frame” music (1997: 19), which is slightly misleading since diegetic music does not mean that the source of the music is within the film frame the whole time.³⁸ Similarly, Korganov and Frolov distinguish between off-frame or “behind-the-frames” music

(“zakadrovaja”) and on-frame music (“vnutrikadrovaja”), but notably they use these terms interchangeably with “motivated” and “unmotivated” music (1964: 58-59, 61).

This is a useful connection with formalist theory, as these authors point to the fact

37 For a discussion of diegesis as a mental construct, see Heldt 2013: 51-55.

38 See chapter 1.1, footnote 9 about Egorova’s terminology.

that diegetic music is music that uses realistic motivation for its presence in the narrative. Yet from a formalist perspective, non-diegetic music is not unmotivated;

rather its presence is motivated through other types of motivation: the compositional, the artistic – or most likely the transtextual. If the music were completely

unmotivated, it would draw attention to the structure, whereas it does not necessarily do so – and this is where the aspect of convention comes in. The use of non-diegetic music, especially in classic Hollywood film, is conventionalized to the point of being a device that enables immersion, instead of baring itself and the structure with it.

In the end, all music in films is assumed to be non-diegetic until proven diegetic.

This is best illustrated in the “diegetic reveals” discussed by Guido Heldt (2013: 89-92), in which music assumed to be non-diegetic is suddenly revealed to the audience as diegetic music. For example, music is heard over images of nature; then the camera shifts and reveals an orchestra playing. The fact that reveals like this work demonstrates that the audience is conditioned to the primacy of non-diegetic music

This is best illustrated in the “diegetic reveals” discussed by Guido Heldt (2013: 89-92), in which music assumed to be non-diegetic is suddenly revealed to the audience as diegetic music. For example, music is heard over images of nature; then the camera shifts and reveals an orchestra playing. The fact that reveals like this work demonstrates that the audience is conditioned to the primacy of non-diegetic music