Note: This article was originally written in December 2018 for Nightmare on Film Street. However, they recently deleted a bunch of older content by former writers, and I decided this was an article worth saving and re-publishing. I hope you enjoy it.
The mysteries that lie beyond our world have intrigued humankind since the very beginning. We see this fascination with outer space permeate nearly every level of human society, including, of course, film and music. But how does one capture and quantify that which is so overwhelmingly infused with the unknown? In 1959, Rod Serling (The Twilight Zone) perhaps said it best when stating:
"It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination".
Perhaps one of the most beautiful aspects of a never-ending universe is this limitless potential for possibilities. Over time, we've seen countless sonic depictions of outer space in film and television. All of which exhibit the fascinating and magical capacity for human inventiveness. Let’s talk about some of the many ways creative individuals have translated the wonders of outer space into sonic realities.
When it comes to science fiction, many will immediately associate the world of electronic music. If looked at practically, this makes perfect sense. There's an inherent separation in the medium of space that lies between it and most humans.Â
One of the first major examples of electronic sounds in film came in 1951's The Day the Earth Stood Still. Scored by Bernard Herrmann, the film utilizes traditional instrumentation along with the theremin. Created in 1920 by Russian physicist Léon Theremin, this intriguing technology contributed an important piece to the film's overall effectiveness. At times, the theremin is utilized as a mere sound effect. At others, a contributing member of the orchestral score. The vibrating, eerie nature inseparable from the instrument itself adds a level of mystique perfectly suited to the alien visitors.
A few years later, Fred M. Wilcox's Forbidden Planet came. One of the first totally off-Earth sci-fi films, MGM wanted a new and inventive film score to accompany this unprecedented endeavor. This is where the husband and wife team, Louis and Bebe Barron, come into play. After receiving a tape recorder as a wedding present, the duo began experimenting with its capabilities and eventually created their own circuit technology. This fascination with sound manipulation quickly made a name for the couple in the world of avant-garde music. Â
For Forbidden Planet, the Barron's created a staggering amount of sounds, pulses, oscillations, waves, bleeps and bloops all on homemade technology. This reverberating batch of new and inventive sounds was as unprecedented and unexplored as the mysterious planet it represented. The lines between score and sound design became particularly blurred, creating a whole new approach to sound design and editing in film. In fact, when Forbidden Planet's sound was nominated for an Academy Award, the Academy didn't know where to put it. Rather than nominating the Barron's in the Film Score category, the nomination fell to the head of the sound department and the Special Effects category. Needless to say, a lawsuit occurred, and proper credit has been restored to the Barron's since then.
As the world of sci-fi cinema expanded, the challenges of social acceptance and ingenuity we see in the Barron's score for Forbidden Planet became rather common. Many developments in 'space sound' would come out of pure experimentation and imagination. Perhaps the best example of this idea can be seen in the work of the original Star Wars sound designer Ben Burtt. While the world of Star Wars and its sounds are second nature to audiences today, those sounds had to originate somewhere.
Imagine if you will, pre-1977, what would a lightsaber sound like? How would a droid like R2-D2Â connect with audiences? These were the questions and challenges laid before Burtt's creative feet. To create the infamous buzzing of a lightsaber, Burtt combined sustained hum recordings from a film projector and an everyday television. Then, playing the unified tone back through a speaker, Burtt mirrored the fight choreography while waving a microphone in front of the speaker. This combination of pieces gave the lightsabers their iconic tone as well as the all-important feeling of movement and proximity.
Now, when it came to R2-D2, things were a smidge more complicated. For this, Burtt required the help of a semi-modular analog subtractive audio synthesizer known as the ARP 2600. Lucky for Burtt, he knew a man who had access to one of these fairly new pieces of synth technology: Francis Ford Coppola. By utilizing the ARP 2600's seemingly endless combinations of patches, effects and filters, Burtt was able to mic and manipulate his own vocalizations thus creating Artoo's conversational style. While R2-D2 is unquestionably mechanical, this subtle human element in his dialogue helped create one of the most endearing characters in all of science fiction.
This idea behind R2-D2 brings up another common approach to 'space sound': augmented reality. The more we learn about space and the more we see it represented in film and television, the more it becomes seemingly familiar. While it will never be viewed the same as our Earthly realm, there are points of congruity. Here is where we see composers utilize a compositional technique known as ‘extended techniques.’ Basically, this means using a traditional instrument in a non-traditional way. Scratching the strings on a violin. Clicking the keys of a clarinet. Hitting the internal strings on a piano, etc.Â
In Alien, we see this technique implemented immediately during the opening title sequence. While familiar instruments utilize the 'extended technique,' these more melodic sounds are underscored by a low, foreboding synthetic hum. It's a slightly familiar sound but also difficult to pinpoint. This ambiguity in sound was no accident. To achieve this sound, Jerry Goldsmith took a totally normal wind sound and combined it with a static, atonal noise. Then, this augmented 50/50 combo sound was run through a synthetic filter to modify and manipulate the sound further. Similar to the Barron's approach decades earlier, Goldsmith's opening piece functions as both score and sound design in a frightfully effective manner.
While synthetic electronic sounds are certainly a common approach to creating 'space sounds,' it is certainly not the only approach. An excellent example of a different interpretation comes from Christopher Nolan's 2014 sci-fi masterpiece, Interstellar. Rather than focusing on the abstract unknown that permeates space, Interstellar focuses on the humanity and heart of mankind. Yes, the backdrop and mechanics of outer space are central to the film, but the emotional focus is certainly centered around the human characters. In order to achieve this goal, Nolan called upon the talents of the incomparable Hans Zimmer (Inception).
When it came to choosing instrumentation for the Interstellar score, Zimmer and Nolan chose to feature a massive church organ located at Temple Church in London. In a 2014 interview, Nolan explains this choice, stating, "The organ, the architectural cathedrals, they represent mankind's attempt to portray the mystical or the metaphysical...what's beyond us and beyond the realm of the every day." Connotations of religion are clearly evident, but it's not a far stretch to apply this association to space and its infinite wonders. The resonance, emotion and full-bodied sound that's innate in the organ itself adds a shocking amount of weight, beauty and magic to Interstellar and the astral world it portrays. Despite the obvious grounded nature of the instrumentation, Zimmer creates a sonic, cosmic space unparalleled in its sheer emotional vastness.
As time continues to march on, space has begun to talk back to us, revealing its own unique soundscape. Surprisingly, early innovators in the world of science fiction and sound design were not all that far off. Scores like Gil Mellé's iconic, all-electronic score for 1971's The Andromeda Strain strikingly resemble sounds that NASA has revealed to the public. If interested, I highly recommend finding those on the internet and checking them out. Super creepy and super cool.Â
Over the years, we've seen the world of science fiction films expand and shift in nearly every way imaginable. Despite our ever-increasing knowledge of what lies within the murky darkness, the universe still holds a never-ending capacity for possibility. This beautiful potential for ingenuity and imagination has already given us so many incredible sonic interpretations it's hard to believe we're really only just beginning. As outer space continues to remain the 'final frontier,' sonic explorers will undoubtedly continue their eternal quest towards translating the cosmic mystique. And I, for one, can't wait to hear what's next.