To accompany a few dozen string members of an orchestra, Newman
employs a piano, electric guitar, repeater, glass guitar, pick jam, copper box, pedal
steel guitar, granulated cello, stick fiddle, cavaquinho, saz, high metal, shiver
tables, struck bowls, pang glocken, ewi, clarinet, and double bass for
White
Oleander's score... not at all unusual for the composer during this period. The
result of their performances is surprisingly dull, producing an ambience that very
well could have sufficed had it utilized synthetic, sampled versions of the same
collection of instruments. Despite all of Newman's attempts to shape these items into
a distinctly new sound, he has created a score for
White Oleander that is even
more minimalistic than anything he had yet produced, reducing his music even further
from the realm of normal musical structures. Instead, listeners hear an artistic form
of sound design, music that functions as one massive sound effect and containing no
coherent theme, no memorable style, no small motif, and no defining factor that
elevates this score to any level of musical comprehension. From listening to this
music, you would get the impression that every character is contemplating suicide on
the screen at every moment, with a drab, dramatic cloud of dreamy atmosphere floating
aimlessly from start to end. The word "dreamy" is key here, because with this score
Newman had finally hit a point in his career where his music could be sold as a
sleep-inducing sound effect tool, much like the kinds of albums with recordings of
ocean waves and seagulls that repeat all night long and help you drift off to sleep
quickly and quietly. Put
White Oleander right on the shelves next to such
nature products. It isn't offensive in any way; in fact, Newman's own piano solos
have a very soothing quality to their slow progressions. Unlike
In the
Bedroom, it has no aggravating cues. And if you require an album to replace your
stolen bottle of sleeping pills, then this short score (on repeat) will serve the
same purpose. But as a film score,
White Oleander offers nothing to the field
of existing material by Newman or anyone else. Without any semblance of an individual
personality, the level of interest that this music maintains is absolutely zero. Its
album presentation offers you 30+ minutes of nothingness, and mainstream viewers of
the movie should be aware that Sheryl Crow's song "Safe and Sound" (heard over the
end credits) is not on this product. You might wish that it were, if only to wake you
from your slumber.
** @Amazon.com: CD or
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