Bez Konca
Zbigniew Preisner
" the level of commitment and aesthetics shared between Preisner and Kieslowski is quite infrequent and ingenious. "Written by Joep de Bruijn - Review of the music as heard in the movie
Zbigniew Preisner started his career writing music for a cabaret in Kraków, then wrote music for a pair of documentaries and made his main feature film debut with Prognoza pogody in 1982. The debute score immediately displayed some of his trademarks, just as Bez Końca (No End, 1985) would do even more two years later, with in between two excellent scores for TV movies. but all still without the idiosyncratic recording method and recurring interplay between various musicians that meliorated in the 1990s.
Bez Końca marked the first collaboration with director Krystof Kieślowski, and from then on - neglecting Wojciech Kilar' music for the 1987 film Przypadek - Preisner would write music for all the author's works until his death.
The film displays typical Kieślowski trademarks: the various forms of spirituality, further symbolism and metaphysical content, encompassing, universal themes of melancholy, grief, death and love, and through this cinematic art form, also addresses political issues. Within reason, a majority of the content of what this film is presents, culminated in later Kieślowski films, all interlinked through its content. Another recurring theme throughout the director's career is the use of a muse, an actress so strongly presented in all aspects, and yet Kieslowski is fairly inconsistent in their use; from Julliete Binoche, Irène Jacob and Grażyna Szapołowska,who shined in Bez Końca, but arguably became the best muse of them all for Krótki film o milosci (A Short film about Love, 1988), reworked and shortened for the Dekalog series. However, while generally muses are chosen because of their (aesthetic) beauty - there are many examples throughout cinematic history - Szapołowska is both the best in terms of beauty and correlating aesthetics, while her strengths acting, presenting a feasible character representative of real life, in all nuanced emotions, is something that a majority of muses miss.
Upon first seeing Bez Końca, the composer declined to write any music, while Kieślowski, was persistent it needed music. He asked his associate Piotr Skrzynecki (of the Piwnica pod Baranami cabaret) to see the film, who convinced him to score the film by explaining to see it as a ritual.
Bez Końca opens with images of flickering lights from All Souls' Day in Poland. It then cuts to images of Urszula Zyro and her son grieving over the death of her husband, Antek, at home. As it progresses, the spiritual theme is conveyed through Antek explaining on screen what happened. It is an impressive opening to the film, already touching upon many elements. Almost immediately, Preisner's music supports this with an impressive solemn, yet very expressive theme, religious funeral music performed by the orchestra and choir. It is a minimal theme embodying sadness and distilled beauty, whose phrases would become the DNA of almost the entire score through various disguises, resurfacing continuously with wide pauses and reverberation, although the choir only returns towards the end of the film.
The composer wrote the score for orchestra and a chorus, but as he was amidst recording with the Łódź symphonic orchestra, having no choir at his disposal, he requested the musicians to converge into singing.
In this film, there's much beauty to be found in overall aesthetics and themes, and while there are signs of love and optimism, especially in between the bond of mother and daughter, there's a pivotal scene which displays optimism. However, before and after this, Ula (perhaps) abuses her grief, isolates herself from the rest of the world, in showing an interest in a case of her husband, who used to be a lawyer, was working on. As her grief continues, displayed through minimal and nuanced music variations on the main theme, she finds help in spiritual therapy, erasing all forms of remembrance, and ghost-like appearance of her husband. Sidenote: there is great use of sound design in a later meeting with her therapist, in which he produces a sound that comes from rotating his fingers on top of a glass, producing an eerie sound in tune with the spiritual theme. The therapy helps, and in one of the many pivotal scenes, an impressive accompany of enlightening, rather optimistic music, devoid of using the main theme, she makes love to herself, an act of freedom. There are few other brief musical cues, also devoid of thematic content; a short piece of tense, mysterious string lines, another pair of strings signalling Ula' inner turmoil and a brief cue near the end of the political case.
Regarding the symbolism and metaphysics of Kieślowski, it is unwarranted to see the film as a simple film of grief and a political case on the other side, but even between these two, Preisner's music is fairly consistent in its sober approach, addressing all aspects and characters thoroughly. Yet, especially the theme of grief is most attractive of all. Near the end of the film, the political court case concludes, touching Ula very deeply, a form of prolonged grieving, despite seemingly all traces of her husband and ghostlike being erased. After this, there is another pivotal scene, in which her son plays Preisner's theme on a piano as diegetic source music, which has a devastating impact on her as well. It leads to a decision that is disputable in perception, another trademark of Kieślowski. Subsequently, Ula and her son visit Antek's grave, reprising the full orchestra and choir take on the theme as presented in the beginning. Then, Ula decides to take her own life, favouring her life, understandable through her desolate, emotional vacuum, and neglecting her own son as a sign of life and love. As it happens, another take of the full theme is presented, showing spiritual and ambiguous scenery of Ula and Ante united.
While the composer's general output throughout his career is (almost) entirely consistent, the level of commitment and aesthetics shared between Preisner and Kieslowski is quite infrequent and ingenious.
Unfortunately, none of the music has ever been officially released.
19-06-205)
Bez Końca marked the first collaboration with director Krystof Kieślowski, and from then on - neglecting Wojciech Kilar' music for the 1987 film Przypadek - Preisner would write music for all the author's works until his death.
The film displays typical Kieślowski trademarks: the various forms of spirituality, further symbolism and metaphysical content, encompassing, universal themes of melancholy, grief, death and love, and through this cinematic art form, also addresses political issues. Within reason, a majority of the content of what this film is presents, culminated in later Kieślowski films, all interlinked through its content. Another recurring theme throughout the director's career is the use of a muse, an actress so strongly presented in all aspects, and yet Kieslowski is fairly inconsistent in their use; from Julliete Binoche, Irène Jacob and Grażyna Szapołowska,who shined in Bez Końca, but arguably became the best muse of them all for Krótki film o milosci (A Short film about Love, 1988), reworked and shortened for the Dekalog series. However, while generally muses are chosen because of their (aesthetic) beauty - there are many examples throughout cinematic history - Szapołowska is both the best in terms of beauty and correlating aesthetics, while her strengths acting, presenting a feasible character representative of real life, in all nuanced emotions, is something that a majority of muses miss.
Upon first seeing Bez Końca, the composer declined to write any music, while Kieślowski, was persistent it needed music. He asked his associate Piotr Skrzynecki (of the Piwnica pod Baranami cabaret) to see the film, who convinced him to score the film by explaining to see it as a ritual.
Bez Końca opens with images of flickering lights from All Souls' Day in Poland. It then cuts to images of Urszula Zyro and her son grieving over the death of her husband, Antek, at home. As it progresses, the spiritual theme is conveyed through Antek explaining on screen what happened. It is an impressive opening to the film, already touching upon many elements. Almost immediately, Preisner's music supports this with an impressive solemn, yet very expressive theme, religious funeral music performed by the orchestra and choir. It is a minimal theme embodying sadness and distilled beauty, whose phrases would become the DNA of almost the entire score through various disguises, resurfacing continuously with wide pauses and reverberation, although the choir only returns towards the end of the film.
The composer wrote the score for orchestra and a chorus, but as he was amidst recording with the Łódź symphonic orchestra, having no choir at his disposal, he requested the musicians to converge into singing.
In this film, there's much beauty to be found in overall aesthetics and themes, and while there are signs of love and optimism, especially in between the bond of mother and daughter, there's a pivotal scene which displays optimism. However, before and after this, Ula (perhaps) abuses her grief, isolates herself from the rest of the world, in showing an interest in a case of her husband, who used to be a lawyer, was working on. As her grief continues, displayed through minimal and nuanced music variations on the main theme, she finds help in spiritual therapy, erasing all forms of remembrance, and ghost-like appearance of her husband. Sidenote: there is great use of sound design in a later meeting with her therapist, in which he produces a sound that comes from rotating his fingers on top of a glass, producing an eerie sound in tune with the spiritual theme. The therapy helps, and in one of the many pivotal scenes, an impressive accompany of enlightening, rather optimistic music, devoid of using the main theme, she makes love to herself, an act of freedom. There are few other brief musical cues, also devoid of thematic content; a short piece of tense, mysterious string lines, another pair of strings signalling Ula' inner turmoil and a brief cue near the end of the political case.
Regarding the symbolism and metaphysics of Kieślowski, it is unwarranted to see the film as a simple film of grief and a political case on the other side, but even between these two, Preisner's music is fairly consistent in its sober approach, addressing all aspects and characters thoroughly. Yet, especially the theme of grief is most attractive of all. Near the end of the film, the political court case concludes, touching Ula very deeply, a form of prolonged grieving, despite seemingly all traces of her husband and ghostlike being erased. After this, there is another pivotal scene, in which her son plays Preisner's theme on a piano as diegetic source music, which has a devastating impact on her as well. It leads to a decision that is disputable in perception, another trademark of Kieślowski. Subsequently, Ula and her son visit Antek's grave, reprising the full orchestra and choir take on the theme as presented in the beginning. Then, Ula decides to take her own life, favouring her life, understandable through her desolate, emotional vacuum, and neglecting her own son as a sign of life and love. As it happens, another take of the full theme is presented, showing spiritual and ambiguous scenery of Ula and Ante united.
While the composer's general output throughout his career is (almost) entirely consistent, the level of commitment and aesthetics shared between Preisner and Kieslowski is quite infrequent and ingenious.
Unfortunately, none of the music has ever been officially released.
19-06-205)