Gabriel ChwojnikA Composer’s Passion – Traditions and Syntheses: Interview with Gabriel Chwojnik Hamed Sarrafi August 2024 22 Years of El Pampero Cine Issue 110 Anyone fortunate enough to attend the back-to-back screenings of La Flor (The Flower, Mariano Llinás, 2018) over three nights at the 62nd London Film Festival in 2018 will forever cherish the uniqueness of the experience. This 14-hour epic journey spanned various genres and showcased intricate narratives alongside the outstanding performances of four talented actresses from the Piel de Lava theatre company, culminating in an unparalleled cinematic event. On the final evening, as the audience prepared to bid farewell to the saga and its memorable characters, the credits began to roll. Lasting more than twenty minutes, they transformed into a cinematic experience of their own, accompanied by the hauntingly beautiful compositions of Gabriel Chwojnik. The music, played softly, set a reflective tone while Elisa Carricajo, the only person from the cast and crew representing both El Pampero and Piel de Lava, narrated the ten-year journey of crafting this masterpiece. Caught between the enchanting music and the compelling behind-the-scenes stories, viewers like myself experienced a poignant dilemma — torn between savouring the melodies and yearning for deeper insights into the film’s production. Gabriel’s musical contributions were pivotal not only in this final moment but throughout the film, notably enhancing the musical sequences of the second episode and the emotionally resonant third and fourth episodes. His compositions provided a soothing auditory experience that resonated deeply with the audience. Music is an essential element in all of El Pampero’s films, contributing emotionally and thematically to each narrative and becoming inseparable from the visual storytelling. It is so fundamental that imagining films from El escarabajo de oro (The Gold Bug, Alejo Moguillansky and Fia-Stina Sandlund, 2014) to Clementina (Agustín Mendilaharzu and Constanza Feldman, 2022), from Historias extraordinarias (Extraordinary Stories, Mariano Llinás, 2008) and La Flor to Trenque Lauquen (evocative pieces like those heard in the end credits of Trenque Lauquen, music that captures the heart and never ceases to resonate), without their musically elevated moments that enhance the mood and atmosphere and are functional to the narrative seems impossible. (For a more detailed analytical look at this aspect of El Pampero’s work, Terence W. Yang’s article in this dossier offers an in-depth exploration.) As I explore deeper into El Pampero Cine’s earlier works, it became clear that Gabriel had been a foundational member from the outset, beginning with Balnearios. His enduring partnership with the collective has produced varied and lasting results, highlighted by his ability to create music that achieves a grand scale despite material constraints—echoing the opening music of Extraordinary Stories. This capability aligns with El Pampero’s ethos that great epics can be crafted with minimal resources and showcases Gabriel’s profound understanding of music history, which enriches the group’s films and encourages a dialogue with cinematic traditions. Born in 1957, Gabriel Chwojnik is a distinguished musician, composer, orchestral director, and producer. Educated at the Rubin Academy of Music and Dance in Jerusalem, his prolific career in cinema and theatre composition has notably shaped contemporary filmmaking. His work, now recognized not only locally but increasingly on a global scale, is available on platforms like Spotify and Bandcamp. As one of the eldest and arguably the most diversely experienced among the main members of El Pampero, Gabriel brings a unique perspective and extensive background in music that have significantly influenced the collective’s artistic direction. In Por el dinero (For the Money), directed by Alejo Moguillansky, he plays a role that cleverly blurs the lines between parody and reality, offering a humorous and introspective look at his relationships with his collaborators and providing diverse interpretations and insights on various issues. Our interview with Gabriel was conducted via Zoom on three occasions, totalling more than five hours, with one session occurring while he was in London working on a documentary. Each meeting revealed more of his creative environment, especially his home studio in Argentina, which is adorned with beautifully crafted wooden doors and windows, adding a personal touch to our conversations. These discussions, significantly trimmed for this dossier, unfortunately did not touch on Gabriel’s recent collaborations with Mariano Llinás in documentaries and experiments like Concierto para la batalla de El Tala (2021), Clorindo Testa (2021), and Kunst der Farbe (2024). In our discussions, Gabriel expressed his flexibility and creativity, essential traits for effective collaboration within El Pampero. Despite challenging economic and political conditions in Argentina that influence his musical choices between orchestral and electronic compositions, Gabriel remains dedicated to artistic innovation. His commentary on these issues deepens our understanding of his approach to music and film. As we delve into this interview, Gabriel Chwojnik offers insights not only into his artistic process but also into his philosophical approach to music and filmmaking, illuminating his significant contributions to cinema and his enduring legacy with El Pampero Cine. Concierto para la batalla de El Tala Before we start our conversation, I must say that I’ve been thoroughly enjoying some of the pieces you’ve composed for various projects. You’re welcome. Are you referring to the movie soundtracks available on Spotify? Yes, absolutely. I’ve been listening to your work on Spotify and other platforms. I’ve even separated some of the tracks from the movies just to listen to them! Interestingly, while I knew your music, I didn’t initially connect to La Flor. What really stuck with me was the last 30 minutes of the film. The scene where the crew is in a natural setting, collecting items and wrapping up the last day of shooting, was beautifully complemented by your music as the credits rolled. It’s interesting how certain movie moments can stay with you. I don’t always remember the specific music I’ve composed, but sometimes, when I come across my work, it surprises me. La Flor was a success, both musically and cinematically. Everyone at El Pampero is passionate about music. Our collaboration began with the documentary Balnearios (2002), a light-hearted look at family trips to seaside destinations, focusing on how Argentines experience life on the Atlantic coast near Buenos Aires. Mariano’s deep connection to the province has influenced our ongoing partnership, leading to various projects with unique charms and challenges… Could you tell us more about your early experiences with music? My introduction to it was kind of by chance. My father had a diverse vinyl record collection, and I began exploring music as a child, starting with the guitar. Later, I attended the Conservatory of Music in Buenos Aires, which was very formative. In the 1970s, I became deeply interested in music, especially pop and progressive rock bands like Genesis and Yes. Despite Argentina’s strong rock-n-roll scene, it wasn’t very popular with the general public. I explored different genres, from progressive rock, jazz, to classical compositions, chamber music, and world music, each fascinated me in its own way. Music allowed me to escape into a realm of fantasy and imagination, traveling to another place while sitting in my room. This journey through sounds and melodies was magical and inspiring. Living near the capital, I studied piano as a secondary instrument, explored playing the clarinet and saxophone, and delved into music theory and contemporary academic music. I even spent some years in Jerusalem, where I earned my bachelor’s degree in music theory at the Rubin Academy of Music and Dance. After returning to Argentina, I began my composition journey, forming a small band with about twelve talented musicians. Together, we played a lot of jazz, even performing in underground cabarets. Let’s pause for a moment and talk about your decision to study music in Israel. What made you choose Israel for your music education, instead of staying in Argentina or studying somewhere else? I ended up in Israel during a unique time in my life. I had been studying music at a conservatory in Argentina, but it felt boring and slow-paced. With my Polish citizenship allowing me to travel freely within the European Union, I decided to explore new horizons. While in Greece, I impulsively decided to visit Israel, driven by a desire for change and an opportunity to study abroad. Israel, with its renowned Jewish and Israeli Academy, offered an exciting opportunity for someone like me who loved music. The Jerusalem Academy, although small, had an impressive faculty with world-renowned musicians and composers, located beside the Prime Minister’s house. I was fortunate to receive a scholarship, making the experience both enriching and affordable. The academy hosted masterclasses with famous composers like Luciano Berio and Gyorgy Ligeti, who opened new paths in contemporary music. Even though I didn’t speak much Hebrew, I managed to communicate in English. The country’s diverse cultural mix fascinated me, and I visited areas affected by geopolitical conflicts, like Lebanon during the Lebanese Civil War. I was there when Anwar Sadat was assassinated. This exposure to the complex realities of the Middle East deeply impacted my perspective. My time in Israel expanded my musical horizons and allowed me to witness the complexities of a region marked by historical conflicts. Later on, I planned to continue my studies in the United States, but I made the somewhat misguided choice to return to Argentina. Despite this, the experiences and insights I gained during my journey in Israel continue to shape how I see the world. Now, I aim to create music beyond film scores, transcending borders and brings people together, promoting peace and harmony through the universal language of music, connecting with people on a deeper level. I aim to broaden my horizons and explore new creative paths. While film music has been a valuable medium for expression, sometimes they can be a bit limited and stupid. What led you to such a belief? Film directors often lack a deep understanding of music history and its styles, which can lead to misconceptions about the music they want. While working with directors like Alejo, Agustin, Laura, and Mariano, although they might not fully grasp different musical genres, they trust my ability to compose fitting music. For example, Mariano may not have extensive knowledge on music theory, but he is open to exploring various styles. Successful collaborations arise when directors have a clear idea or are open to different musical options. Directors should understand the rich history and diversity of music. For instance, Arab and Indian music differ greatly from Western music in scales, rhythms, and emotional expression. This knowledge helps directors make informed musical choices for their films. But it’s important to respect the director’s vision while offering creative input, ultimately collaborating to find the right expression for the film. It’s not about using a generic soundtrack but understanding music’s role as a character within the film. The history of film is closely connected with music. Early cinema often featured singing and dancing, with Hollywood emphasizing music’s importance. European composers like Stravinsky shaped film music, and today, many talented composers blur the lines between film and concert music, enriching the musical landscape. Could you share your favourite music composer with me? Igor Stravinsky stands out for his profound impact on my musical perspective. I also admire Salvatore Sciarrino, an Italian contemporary composer known for his intriguing compositions. Additionally, I appreciate the works of classical masters like Brahms and Mozart, as well as various artists from contemporary and world music scenes, including traditions from India, the Arab world, Iran, China, and Japan. Unfortunately, in places like Argentina, there’s limited exposure to this vast array of world music. Cultural events often place a greater emphasis on films rather than music, which I find disappointing. Despite this, I believe music has the power to transcend geographical and cultural boundaries and bring people together. It’s crucial for global audiences to engage with music from different cultures. Although platforms like Spotify provide access to a wide range of music, there’s still a gap in cultural education concerning non-Western music traditions, such as those from Iran and Java. Music festivals, unlike film festivals, often lack adequate attention and funding, missing out on opportunities for cultural exchange. However, I remain optimistic despite the lack of recognition. What about film score composers that influenced your taste the most? I thoroughly enjoy the partnerships between composers and directors that results in unique musical scores, like Nino Rota with Federico Fellini, and Bernard Herrmann with Alfred Hitchcock, exemplify the captivating outcomes of their synergy. Composers like Ennio Morricone and Henry Mancini have also deeply influenced my work, standing out for their ability to resonate with audiences. While I don’t closely follow contemporary composers, I admire those who adopt unconventional styles that diverge from traditional Hollywood norms, such as John Williams. For instance, Alexander Desplat’s work with Wes Anderson, particularly in stop-motion films, impresses me. Working alongside some of these talented composers, like Howard Shore and Gustavo Santaolalla, has been enriching. My approach to music composition is always influenced by the need for originality and creativity. I strive to be original, avoiding copying others. Even when I get references, like using a cello, I try to create something different rather than just copying melodies. I focus on creating unique sounds with my library of instruments and synthesizers, avoiding the overused soundscapes common in many films. The music industry is full of various styles and composers, making it hard not to be influenced by others. I believe that studying music thoroughly lays the foundation for a successful career in music, whether one aims to be a rock star or an independent musician. I’ve always believed that becoming a rock star is quite rare; it’s like one in a million. But you see, if you study music thoroughly, you understand its nuances and complexities. As a dentist, when I’m with my patients, I often play a curated selection of soundtrack music for them. This playlist typically includes compositions from the likes of Ennio Morricone, Thomas Newman, John Williams, and even some of your own work. I find that music creates a soothing and enjoyable atmosphere while I’m working on their dental care… I believe it helps with concentration… Yes, it does, but not only that. For the patients, it diverts their minds from the pain or treatment. It brings back many memories and moments from movies, from westerns to In the Mood for Love to Goran Bregović’s scores for Emir Kusturica’s movies. Now I’m interested in knowing about your experience with each of El Pampero’s members individually. Let’s start with Mariano. How did you meet, and can you share some examples of your collaboration over the years? When you work with the same directors for many years, you both grow together. Directors evolve, and so do I. We all grow with each other. Mariano was much younger than me by about ten to fifteen years, so he had a different mentality about what music is. My connection with Mariano’s sister, Veronica, played a significant role. We are good friends and often worked together on television projects with great music. One day, I asked her if her brother, Mariano, was involved in any film projects because I wanted to try something different from band performances. At the time (the beginning of the 21st century), mainstream cinema in Argentina was dominant, and there wasn’t much room for independent projects. However, Mariano was working on something unique: Balnearios. So finally, he reached out to me, and we met. That’s when I first got introduced to samplers, which were relatively new then. I remember my first PC with sequences that were quite basic compared to today. We faced some big challenges during those early days. Back then, everything was in VHS format, and digital technology wasn’t common yet. Mariano brought the film to me, and I had to figure out how to synchronize the music with it. I discovered SMPTE, a code used in film to sync different elements. The technology wasn’t very user-friendly, but I managed to make it work. I had just bought my first samplers, so we had a few instruments like strings, drums, piano, and double bass in the sampler. We didn’t have much; we worked at my home, synchronizing everything with VHS tapes. Samplers were our best friends back then, and they’ve improved a lot since. Even now, we still use machines and samplers, which have become more advanced. Mariano wanted a jazzy style of music, which was quite challenging without a live band. He loved the style of jazz, like in the French movie – I can’t recall the exact one – which featured jazz influences like Miles Davis (editor’s note: Louis Malle’s 1958 Ascenseur pour l’échafaud). So he often wanted something similar to that jazz style. We used samplers, and while it wasn’t easy, we managed to create the sound he wanted. I decided to use a good sample of the double bass for that authentic jazz feel. We also added piano and drums with brushes to capture the right vibe. I had a great sample from Sample berry, which came on a small disk. It was a unique approach at the time. Our collaboration was hands-on; we worked closely, sitting together at the computer like editors, allowing us to make swift decisions and avoid unnecessary revisions. Mariano would instantly provide feedback, guiding the direction with precise inputs. If he disagreed with a jazz piece I suggested, he would specify his preferences, helping us refine the music to align with his vision for the film. It’s about finding the right balance between his vision and my musical interpretation. This way of working together allowed us to explore various musical styles and approaches directly in my studio. Sometimes, Mariano would ask for something darker, and I’d suggest, “Okay, let’s use the piano and the double bass differently.” For example, in one place, he would prefer baroque music, and I’d adapt to his preferences while still retaining my creative input as a composer. I also insisted on including songs in every film. I believe songs are essential in cinema. Mariano is a talented writer, and we worked together to create songs, including “La Grande Maison sur la mer,” with lyrics in French. It plays during a pivotal scene of Balnearios, set in a once-grand, now dilapidated hotel, around which Mariano crafted a fictional narrative. This song, featuring a string quartet and an accordion, was performed by a close friend of Mariano’s, renowned for her captivating voice, added a special touch to the film. I consider the song to be one of the best in the history of Argentine cinema. The lyrics were well-written, and the music, though made with machines, still captured the essence very well. Since the success of Balnearios, we’ve made it a practice to include a distinctive song in each of Mariano’s films, tailored to the film’s theme. For instance, Historias Extraordinarias featured a war-themed song performed by an elderly man whose spoken delivery added depth and authenticity to the music. We’ve also expanded our musical experimentation, including polyphonic movements and even adapting variations of some Bach, such as the Brandenburg Concertos, though I can’t recall the exact context. These efforts involved composing on the fly and meticulously syncing the music with the film’s visuals, which proved successful. Our collaborative work has gained recognition over time, culminating in one of our films winning an award at the Buenos Aires International Festival of Independent Cinema (BAFICI). This accolade marked a milestone in our partnership. After that, Mariano and I continued to work together on other movies, but I think our first project together was special in our journey. Our dedication to originality paid off, and our collaboration flourished. Just a few minutes before we started our interview, I played the trailers and teasers of these movies on the Internet. All the music is very beautiful. I was instantly drawn to them, and even the beginning of Historias Extraordinarias is wonderful. The piece you mentioned isn’t at the very beginning of the film but appears shortly after, during the credits. Mariano envisioned something reflective of cumbia, a style rooted in both Colombia and our local Corrientes province, and its distinct presence in the shanty towns. We aimed to craft a cumbia that was both interesting and dynamic. The result was a cartoon-style cumbia, where we utilized drums and electric guitars, though these were played through machines rather than traditionally. We also added saxophones, trumpets, and other percussion instruments to enrich the texture. With the titles animated in their unique way, I believe this opening stands out as one of the best in Argentine cinema. It’s a testament not just to the music, but to the overall impact of the presentation in our indie films. What have you learned from working with Mariano over the years? This experience has shown me the importance of letting directors take the lead on how music is integrated into their films. As a composer, my role is to support their vision, whether they request a cha-cha-cha or an impressionist orchestration. I’ve learned to compose without seeing the entire movie, trusting the director to use my music to enhance their storytelling. The director ultimately decides. As I mentioned before, the challenge is that directors often lack a deep understanding of music or its history, so they might not always know what they want. In Mariano’s case, over the last fifteen years, he has grown significantly in his understanding of music. In our work together, especially on documentary projects, Mariano frequently opted for jazz. But in Historias Extraordinarias, he specifically requested a departure from jazz, critiquing my work as repetitive. I had to remind him that I merely create what he asks for. I’m versatile in my musical ability and not inclined to challenge his preferences. When Mariano requested music, I’d ensure he provided specific directions to guide my composition, like the guitar theme for Laura’s Trenque Lauquen which aimed for a specific mood and melody. Throughout our partnership, we’ve navigated both close collaboration and remote interactions, working from verbal or conceptual references Mariano provided. However, using specific references can be tricky as directors might become overly attached to them, making it challenging to explore beyond those initial ideas. Sometimes, Mariano would give me abstract concepts like colours or subtitles as guidance, and I’d remind him not to expect music that directly mirrored these ideas. La Flor With La Flor, the working dynamic shifted. Mariano allowed me more creative freedom, and requested a distinct departure from our typical jazz compositions. It’s a refreshing challenge. Thus we experimented with a diverse array of instruments and styles. Mariano sometimes let me work independently, while at other times, he’d call with specific requests or adjustments. I typically composed the music based on his brief descriptions or emotional cues, like sadness, and sent it over without having seen the entire movie. For example, when he requested epic music, I suggested using bagpipes to evoke a Scottish feel, leading us to develop a crescendo piece with minimal orchestration. In La Flor, I created music that was very intense. I remember a particular scene, I think it was at La Plata near the sea, with crashing waves. The music needed to feel like a classic film score from the 1950s. It wasn’t easy to synchronize the music with the waves, especially with an orchestral composition. Changing even a small section of an orchestra piece can take hours. But I did it, and it turned out well. It was fun and sounded good. In that project, I had the complete film for reference. But sometimes, Mariano would just tell me what he needed in words. He’d give me a broad outline, like wanting a vibraphone with violin, and I’d create something based on that. I focused on crafting music that would enhance the film, trusting Mariano to integrate it effectively. Although I had the freedom to experiment, Mariano remained closely involved, reviewing pieces I sent via mail or email. I didn’t usually see the full movie until its festival premiere. At one premiere, I was initially concerned because Mariano had looped a musical cue repeatedly. However, he assured me it was effective and unnoticeable to the audience, and he was correct. That’s really interesting, particularly in light of the fact that the second episode of La Flor is a musical piece. They also sing in that episode. I was there creating a bass guitar base for the music, and we worked with our singers here for that song. Laura Citarella even sings in it. Lyrics were from Mariano and they were beautiful. Creating songs like this is rewarding; it’s a vital part of the music. This particular song tells the story of a couple who are constantly fighting. It’s part of a beautiful scene depicting their struggle with separation and failure of their relationship in La Flor. The accompanying video clip turned out really well. Ideally, I’d like to compile these pieces, but currently, we don’t have such a compilation. Although I’d love to, I must be mindful of my budget constraints when it comes to producing music. For the Money El Pampero’s movies sometimes took many years in production. At what point in this production process were you brought in to create the music? In Mariano’s case, and with other films too, the production crew was often quite small. They usually had a camera, a sound man, and a few actors. It was quite a minimal setup. For the music, sometimes I would work on it early in the production. Talking about the movies, particularly Trenque Lauquen, which I remember more distinctly, the process was a bit different. It was in production for about three to four years, but they didn’t film continuously for that entire time. The productions simply didn’t have the budget for that. So, with these independent films, the timeline can vary, and my involvement in the music might come at different stages, depending on the project’s needs and how it evolves over time…. There was a point when I expressed my fatigue with using machines for music composition. Mariano reassured me, highlighting that our use of machines in past movies hadn’t drawn complaints. When we did secure funding for live musicians for a downtown performance, it was a refreshing change, though for the past 22 years, budget constraints mostly confined us to using machines. I use Cubase for composing, which excels with virtual instruments. While I appreciate the appeal of synthesizers for their pleasant sounds and mood-setting capabilities, I prefer not to rely on pressing a key to produce music, using pre-set sounds. I gravitate towards complex, contemporary music, even if it’s unconventional or not traditionally melodic. With limited resources and budgets, I often have to use fewer instruments to avoid sounding artificial. In recent years, we have incorporated real musicians into our projects, enhancing the depth and richness of our music. We’ve explored various instruments and sounds to create unique and evocative scores for our films. One of our notable projects was Clorindo Testa, where I decided to incorporate the saxophone into the composition. Mariano wanted jazz again, so I composed the music but insisted on using a live saxophonist instead of a synthetic one. I called a saxophonist friend to record the part and add his improvisation. The collaboration resulted in a fusion of contemporary and traditional elements that added a dimension to the music. At El Pampero, our independent approach, despite financial limitations, ensured I was always compensated on time. Whether using machines or live musicians, we always aim to produce the best music possible within our means. Projects like La Flor succeeded because we adapted within our resources. Generally, when working with El Pampero, are you given the screenplay from the beginning? Not always. Sometimes they tell me they need more music for a festival submission and show me specific parts of a film where music is needed. So I focus on those sections. In Trenque Lauquen, they wanted strange sounds for a monster scene, so we used synthesizers. I also created a theremin song two years before the film was finished, which was later used. The process is collaborative, with many trials to find the right sound. Directors might ask for variations of a theme I’ve composed before or something entirely new. Each director is different. I often prefer them to stay away if they aren’t sure what they want, to avoid wasting time. I might spend hours composing a piece, only to find they wanted something completely different. Sometimes I don’t need to see the movie when the directors have a clear vision. They might specify a solo guitar in a particular style, and I’ll compose accordingly. If they are unsure, I suggest different approaches, like using an orchestra or an electric guitar with distortion. It’s a process of composition and revision based on feedback. I’m not a fan of using pre-existing music in film. I don’t revisit previous compositions unless the director asked to make a variation. The relationship involves coming together to decide on the required music or sound. These movies, like La Flor and Trenque Lauquen, have small-scale productions, not Hollywood-scale. Last night, I watched Spielberg’s latest Indiana Jones movie with a score by John Williams, which needed grand music. But for our type of stories, a chamber music approach is often better. There are exceptions sometimes, but once it’s integrated, it’s like a character. Removing it changes the story. It sounds like working with Laura Citarella comes with its unique challenges, similar to when you had to compose a soundtrack with just two weeks left before the premiere at the Venice Film Festival. Regardless of the time pressure—two weeks or two years—the result was wonderful. The music fit perfectly at the end of the first part of the film, as the actors were leaving the city. It started with a science-fiction-like quality, led by the guitar, and I remember it began with a mysterious, sci-fi-like sound in the background. Your collaboration was started from her first feature Ostende. The mysterious sound you mentioned is often produced using a Theremin, an instrument known for its unique sound but challenging to play. I usually replicate its pure sine wave sound with a synthesizer. I used this technique in the film you referenced, creating a science fiction-like atmosphere with the guitar and synthesizer. Laura and Mariano have distinct personalities and approaches to music in their films. Laura’s musical knowledge and preferences differ greatly from Mariano’s. We’ve collaborated on various projects with Laura, and the success Trenque Lauquen has been very rewarding. Laura’s dedication and ability to secure funding for El Pampero’s projects have significantly contributed to its success, along with the efforts of Agustín and Alejo. Her role was crucial in keeping the collective moving forward. Working on Ostende with Laura was unique. The film, set in a hotel owned by Laura’s friends, initially involved some promotional work. I created a distinctive piece of music for Ostende, which was well-received. The film had an unusual theme, and I orchestrated the same music differently, using piano, harp, and other instruments. Though the film wasn’t very successful, it was an interesting project aligned with Laura’s tranquil style. I didn’t compose the music for The Dog Lady (2015). Initially involved, I stepped back when Veronica preferred Juana Molina, a close friend and talented musician, to compose the music after a personal tragedy. I respect her decision and understand the choice. After Dog Lady, working on The Poets Visit Juana Bignozzi (2019) with Laura was a long process. Laura requested specific music but wasn’t clear about her vision. I sent her some of my old music and rhythms, but she didn’t use much of it. I might have composed a theme or two, but it was a long time ago. Trenque Lauquen took over four years to make. Throughout, I sent music as Laura updated me on the project’s progress. Even if you produce thousands of tracks, you might still miss the director’s vision. For instance, in the Trenque Lauquen movie, many themes were rejected until they settled on one from another movie. Revisiting old projects can be challenging due to outdated instruments, often requiring a rebuild. For a festival selection, she wanted to rework the music with real instruments. We recorded with oboe, violin, cello, and viola, transitioning from digital to live instruments. Two weeks before completion, she requested specific music for certain parts, which I composed last minute. She also used some of my existing library music, which I prefer over imitating others’ styles to avoid copyright issues. Both the music and the movie got positive feedback. The success of El Pampero owes much to Laura, whose creativity and gentle, considerate approach ensured smooth collaboration. Looking ahead, it’s uncertain if we will continue working together for the next 20 years, but the journey so far has been remarkable with such talented and kind people. For the Money How has working with Alejo been different from working with others? Alejo relies heavily on improvisation, adding story elements during editing. His imagination allows for creating narratives from almost anything, leading to frequent changes in scenes and editing techniques, so his musical needs can be unpredictable. Alejo is an adaptive and inventive creator, excelling as a director, writer, and editor, crafting unique stories. In his film For the Money, he demonstrated his creative style with an unexpected ending where characters die on a beach. This flexible approach often requires adaptable compositions. We’ve worked on various projects, including one about a submarine, for which I composed original music. Alejo often includes historical themes, creating unique narratives. Interestingly, the submarine used in the film was later involved in a real-life incident with casualties. For this film, I used Concerto No. 1 for piano, although I prefer composing original pieces over using famous themes. Despite challenges in comparing machine-composed music with live orchestral performances, I quickly produced a mock-up orchestral piece that Alejo decided to use. With The Gold Bug, we incorporated Swedish music and Argentine elements like milongas. These projects often have unexpected connections and real-world parallels. For a flashback scene in The Gold Bag, I composed a long solo piece, although I rarely revisit my old compositions. Alejo won an award for that film. In For the Money, I not only composed the music but also acted. This time, we collaborated with Luciana Acuña, providing live music for her early performances, which were successful across Argentina. This collaboration led to an invitation to a theatre festival in Cali, Colombia, where we spontaneously created a film without a script. This adventure continued in the Caribbean, where we filmed in various locations, including a hotel in Cali and a natural park by the sea. The film included humorous elements, like the policeman character played by director Rodrigo Moreno, and contributions from Matthia, a dancer and actor. We also interviewed a Colombian director, adding an amusing twist. For the film’s music, we used a public domain song, added lyrics, and recorded it in Colombia and Buenos Aires. The film’s style reflects Alejo’s poetic approach. Despite not fitting into a specific category, it was an adventure worth pursuing, taking us to the Cannes Film Festival. An amusing anecdote: my prominent belly ended up on the film poster due to my acting role, adding humour to the experience. One of the movies by El Pampero where music plays a significant role is Clementina, directed by Agustín Mendilaharzu and Constanza Feldman. In it, there’s a piece that sounds like traditional Argentine folk music, but it’s performed in a modern style. Agustín’s project was unique. It’s been a long time since I last interacted with Agustín. They approached filmmaking in an unconventional manner. Instead of sticking to a fixed script, they allowed room for improvisation, which really brought out the creativity in Constanza, Agustín’s wife, especially in her body movements. How did that affect the music for the film? My role in the film’s music was highly dynamic. For a scene where the character enters a collapsing room, I composed a piece using medieval instruments like brow horns, flutes, and percussion, giving it a modern twist. I distinctly remember crafting a melody for the character’s movement across the balcony, though I can’t recall the tune now. This collaboration happened during the pandemic, adding time constraints and other challenges, so creative resourcefulness was crucial. I had to compose the music twice due to initial issues and shifting directions. A year later, with the final cut, they requested a new composition. Agustín, a fan of medieval music, influenced the scene’s music with his collection of recorders and flutes. Initially, I synchronized the scene with contemporary instrumental music, but we later switched to music from an Argentine folk group, which changed my role. I adapted by composing in the new style, using technology instead of traditional live instruments. What’s your takeaway from this experience? Despite the unexpected request for medieval-style music, it fits well with the film, adding a pleasant melody that enhanced its humour. Understanding music deeply allows you to navigate the unpredictable and varied demands of film scoring, like in the case of this project with Agustín and his wife. Their improvisational style and willingness to explore various musical directions made the project an intriguing and fulfilling experience. I’ve studied medieval music, and I know about the types of instruments used, the structure of melodies, and how harmonies are formed. The film turned out well, and I believe my music contributed to its comedic aspects. Our collaboration extends beyond feature films to documentaries and other projects. Our close friendship makes working together seamless. Over the years, we’ve also ventured into stage plays, with Agustin and Alejo being part of those projects. Gabriel, in your overall experience, do you feel that working with El Pampero has opened up more opportunities for you in terms of getting fresh ideas about composing or collaborating with others? How do you compare the way you work with them to other experiences you’ve had? Working with El Pampero has been incredibly beneficial. Our collaboration has resulted in a wide variety of music, from jazz to Bach. We’ve shared many great experiences and have grown together over the years. I’m excited about future projects with them, although my involvement in upcoming movies is still uncertain. Mariano is now focusing on different projects. In his latest film, he used a lot of French music, which suited his vision. My role in that project involved exploring jazz and improvisation, a new and interesting challenge for me. Beyond film music, Mariano and I are working on an opera—a wild adaptation of a book, with Mariano writing the script and me composing the music. We’ve completed about a third of it and hope to finish it soon, depending on funding and time. I’m entering a new phase in my career, eager to learn and grow in music. I’ve worked with various productions and directors. Outside El Pampero, I’ve been involved with independent films, including two movies with emerging directors, whom I call ‘the little pamperos’. These talented young directors have brought fresh perspectives to my work. One such collaboration resulted in the film Los tonos mayores (The Major Tones, Ingrid Pokropek, 2023), showcased at the Mar del Plata Festival. Another project, Vodka (Tomás Guiñazú, 2023), was well-received at the 23rd BAFICI festival. Currently, I’m working on a musical project with a renowned Argentine director, where the music must be composed beforehand to influence the filming process—a different and enriching challenge for me. Throughout my career, I’ve worked on various projects, including commercial movies and documentaries. Creating without significant financial backing has been particularly rewarding, fostering a more creative and free-spirited environment. Ensuring that everyone in the filmmaking process, including actors and crew, has the freedom to be creative is essential. This can be challenging with rigid ideas, but a director’s openness to diverse musical concepts significantly impacts the film’s outcome. Working with Laura, Mariano, Alejo, and Agustin at El Pampero has always been positive and creative. They manage the filmmaking process with grace, allowing everyone to express their creativity freely. Each project has been a unique learning experience, shaping our understanding and approach to filmmaking. For the Money Shifting our focus to the current political landscape in Argentina and the new policies affecting cultural institutions, I’m curious about your thoughts. What do you predict for the future of culture and music in Argentina? Do you anticipate significant changes, and do you have any concerns? Change is necessary, though the specifics are currently unclear to me. I haven’t been satisfied with our government’s performance over the last few decades; they’ve disappointed us for about 30 or 40 years. However, the new President, an outsider with a Ph.D. in Economics, offers a fresh perspective. The core issue is our government’s reckless spending, not the people of Argentina. The country and its people are separate from the government, which has often been a mess, disregarding principles and the cultural, economic, and poverty-related aspects. I’m not afraid of change. Argentina is in crisis, and the first step is to stabilize the economy by balancing the financial books. Society needs the freedom to earn and manage money, businessmen need legal and policy stability, and people should trust the currency and freely invest and move their money. To resemble European countries, we need fiscal discipline and a balanced economy. In Latin America, Argentina’s inflation is soaring due to government overspending. I detest such practices. Corruption, mismanagement, and wasted millions exacerbate our problems. The government employs so many that reliance on subsidies grows, diminishing motivation. They create a cycle of ignorance by not providing education or jobs, eroding the culture of work. It’s like teenagers wanting to conquer the world without valuing hard work. We’ve lost that due to generations growing up without jobs, depending on subsidies. We need to reestablish a culture of hard work and financial independence, allowing people to take control of their lives, not just government positions. The government shouldn’t perpetuate poverty to maintain power; it’s detrimental to our country. We need a healthy economy, not government privileges. Argentina’s economic imbalance over the last 40 to 50 years has led to dire consequences. Poverty and insecurity are rampant, making the country unliveable in certain areas. Recent election reactions show public dissatisfaction. The middle class has shrunk due to inflation, with the rich staying rich and politicians becoming the new wealthy. I’m not afraid of change, not in music, theatre, or my daily activities. We shouldn’t rely solely on government funding for culture; we need support from society, private investors, and companies. Occasionally, I seek financing for specific projects like operas, but not directly from the government. As an independent artist, I’ve rarely sought government funding, and when I did, it was out of necessity. Their meagre contributions, like a recent $50 offer, were insulting. I’ve worked and assisted young filmmakers and theatre productions, aware of their financial constraints. The challenge is finding producers who can secure funding without relying solely on government grants, which are often inadequate and tied to inflationary practices. Financial stability is vital for artists. Argentina needs economic equilibrium; otherwise, art will continue to suffer. El Pampero has always struck me as having a leftist approach and worldview, and it is fundamentally based on and continues to operate according to this perspective, and has been successful. However, you seem to belong to the right-wing camp, making your long-term collaboration a delightful example of “political odd couple” success… Our discussions and works, including plays and movies, often revolve around money. It’s a misconception that artists should work without proper compensation. After decades in music, I believe in fair payment for creative work. This principle guides my project participation decisions, considering both financial and artistic value. I’ve spoken with Walter Jakob, a renowned stage director and playwright, with whom I’ve collaborated on several theatre productions. Theatre professionals often face more financial challenges than filmmakers. In a major production I’m involved in, seasoned actors, despite their long careers, aren’t paid salaries. They share ticket sales proceeds, a common approach in the Argentine theatre scene, where many survive by teaching or doing advertisements. You know, I value capitalism for its ability to create genuine monetary value. In Argentina, we don’t experience monopolies like other countries, but depending on the government for 20% of cultural support isn’t healthy. Culture should thrive with the help of society, private investors, and businesses, rather than minimal government funding which can stifle creativity and growth. We’ll adapt, with or without government support… Unlike Argentina, Hollywood and European film industries thrive without heavy government subsidies, and we should follow their example. For instance, I recently worked on an expensive documentary in England without any government support. Although some government funding for the arts exists, it’s often insufficient. Last month, I had to turn down a nominal payment offer. It’s about fair compensation, not millions. There’s fear that cinema funding will be cut, but it’s just 20 million pesos, barely enough for a week of filming. Often, this money is misused, benefitting producers instead of movies. We need a better financing program for the arts, which has been dysfunctional for years. Labels like right-wing don’t matter to me; I believe in a sound economy first, then we can discuss other issues. The future in Argentina is uncertain, but democracy has spoken. The opposition may challenge the new government, but change is necessary. While I’m not afraid of change, I am concerned about the opposition’s response. Instead of working constructively, they may obstruct progress. Argentina needs a balanced economy and justice system to attract businesses and investors. Culture will continue to thrive as we have found creative funding methods without government support. Regarding the new president, change can be positive or negative. He’s informed and different from the typical political elite, who live lavishly while many suffer. Government employees often earn high salaries, unlike independent artists. This disparity underscores the need for financial reform and fair wealth distribution. In the movie For the Money, the dynamic and differing approaches to life between you and El Pampero are humorously depicted through Alejo’s perspective. This portrayal and your words help us understand why you survive at the end while they do not! Beyond these differing viewpoints, we all recognize that music plays an incredibly important role in their films, ranging from Argentine folk music to classic jazz, from Elvis to Schubert, and from Enrique Maciel to contemporary artists. These directors are so good because they understand the importance of music. First of all, I have a strong personality, so I’m not just going to work on anything. Even if you pay me $100,000 and want me to make something subpar, I won’t do it. But if you’re not paying me enough, I want to discuss the matter. They have good taste, and they know how to ask for the music they want, how to change it, and how to edit it. When you talk to directors like Spielberg, Orson Welles, and Hitchcock, you understand they knew what they wanted with the music and they respected its role. The composer needs to be involved, not just taking orders. You have to work with the composer and listen to their input. Gabriel Chwojnik Gabriel, thank you for sharing your insights. I truly appreciate your work. I discovered you through El Pampero’s movies, where your music is used so cleverly and memorably that greatly enhances the movie experience. Although there’s often no record of your compositions, I hope for a future compilation of your selected works from these films. I’ve encountered significant challenges in distributing my music, particularly with El Pampero’s projects. Due to limited time and resources, I ended up personally editing and uploading the music on platforms like Spotify and YouTube. Securing album artwork is the next step required to complete the process. It’s crucial for me to ensure my music doesn’t fade into obscurity. My goal is to make the tracks from Trenque Lauquen available online by year’s end. There’s a lot of my music on Spotify, but El Pampero isn’t editing them due to other projects. So, I’ve decided to handle the editing myself. The volume of music in Trenque Lauquen is overwhelming, and I rarely get to listen to all of it. I reminded Laura that we need the master tapes for Spotify. Although they claimed to be preparing them, not much has been done. It’s crucial to store the music on hard drives and in the cloud to prevent loss. Managing all this digital music is challenging, especially with evolving technology. Recently, someone from a major musical theatre company contacted me wanting to perform a piece, but I couldn’t recall if it was from La Flor or Historias extraordinarias. Fortunately, I found the score and lyrics after considerable effort. Without a dedicated editor, it’s imperative for me to diligently preserve our work for future endeavours, like orchestral performances, where a precise and accessible score is essential. I often reuse my music from different projects unless it’s work for hire, where the music belongs to the payer. Music shouldn’t die with the film; it should live on. For instance, Nino Rota reused his music in different works, like The Godfather. He didn’t win an Oscar for the first film due to this but won for the second. Drawing from my theatre experience, where music is often performed once and then forgotten, I am mindful of the transient nature of art. To address this, I actively integrate my compositions into films and various other projects, maintaining their relevance and accessibility. I have all the studio material, including soundtracks from various movies, available on different platforms. This strategy allows me to keep my work vibrant and continuously available to the public, independent of any particular director or production. I suggested to Mariano about creating an audio-movie of Historias Extraordinarias. We started it but didn’t continue. It’s a thirty-minute uninterrupted audio of the movie, starting with spoken words. It’s fascinating how these independent films, from the very bottom of the world, have reached audiences as far as London and Iran. In Argentina, we lack funds for publicity, advertising, or distributing our movies globally. Cinema is fading, with streaming platforms taking over, but I don’t mind. If that’s the direction things are going, so be it, and the music will continue regardless. What new projects have you been involved in recently, aside from your work with El Pampero? I’m currently in Europe for a film festival in Belgium, celebrating its fiftieth edition. The festival invited 25 composers to create 2-minute pieces, recorded with the Brussels Symphony Orchestra, for directors to incorporate into their films. This festival, like a few others worldwide, truly values soundtracks. I collaborated with two Turkish sisters in Brussels on this project. They created an unusual piece with the orchestra, feeling more like a concert than a typical soundtrack. Recently, I worked on a no-budget film for a talented theatre director transitioning to film. Despite no financial incentive, I composed for her out of respect for her talent and because I had spare time. I’m also working on a documentary in London, which is time-consuming but rewarding due to the talented team involved. Contrary to what some might think, I don’t churn out music for twenty movies a year. My process is quick, leaving time for other activities like swimming, spending time with my wife, and watching series. Composing is more than work; it’s enjoyable, like playing with poetry. I often compose for pleasure, especially for promising directors or young talents striving to make their mark. It’s a constant conversation, especially with less experienced directors, to guide them in defining their musical needs for their films. Composing is a joy for me, almost like a game. I’m planning to expand into composing for contemporary dance, with potential collaborations in Europe and South Africa this year. Securing funding for these projects is crucial to integrate music effectively. In Argentina, the industry is different from Europe or India, lacking infrastructure. We’ve been able to create films independently, with reasonable costs. Instead of exorbitant fees, I charge a fair amount, allowing for enjoyable movie-making and beautiful music creation without needing a Hollywood budget. Independent films are viable, as proven with El Pampero, despite the need for financial security. I’m willing to work within available budgets, with festival earnings as a bonus. I’m deeply committed to nurturing the next generation of filmmakers and musicians through mentorship programs at El Pampero, ensuring the industry thrives with fresh, innovative voices.
