How Philip Glass made the city speak in ‘Koyaanisqatsi’
A composer of epic operatic numbers and melodic ambient works, Philip Glass has had a significant impact on the world of theatre and cinema, creating pieces that reflect a consistently complex network of repetitive phrases and minimalist layers that often build up to an ethereal climax. Such is undoubtedly true regarding Godfrey Reggio’s 1982 non-narrative documentary poem, Koyaanisqatsi, for which Glass wrote his finest film score.
Released with the help of fellow cinematic visionary Francis Ford Coppola, who aided in the film’s distribution under the belief that it was “important for people to see,” Koyaanisqatsi is a powerful document of life on earth which speaks to the pace of contemporary society. Shying away from factual representation, however, Reggio’s film was unlike any other of the documentary medium, using a non-narrative structure to siphon out a surreal truth from just a classical score and cleverly-edited city imagery.
Flowing through cities and natural landscapes across the USA, Reggio’s frenetic visual tale shows us a ‘life out of balance’, as translated from the Hopi Indian title of the movie itself. Using pioneering editing and camera techniques, Koyaanisqatsi became a cinematic oddity at the time, telling a frightening, powerful and enlightening tale fueled by Glass’ score that gave an ethereal rhythm to the pace of city life.
A striking reflection of modern life, Reggio perfectly pairs his visuals with Glass to contextualise the film within constructs of modernity, examining how the advance of our technological developments has changed the world forever. Speaking about this subtext in the short film Essence of Life, which explores the making of the 1982 classic, Reggio revealed: “It’s not that we use technology, we live technology. Technology has become as ubiquitous as the air we breathe”.
Undoubtedly, Glass’ orchestral score tightens the strings of Reggio’s visual marvel, creating a lively symphonic beat that electrifies the film and provides almost uninterrupted synchronised sound. Punctuating the images on screen, the score inspires an ethereal presence, giving the city a voice that reverberates across the landscape, ricocheting off cars into twilight businesses and ticking production lines.
Whilst Glass’ score culminates in the orgasmic climax of ‘The Grid’, which sings with intense vigour, the whole soundtrack provides a therapeutic melody for the humdrum of the everyday; animating the cityscape whilst giving order to the chaos of modern life. Indeed, to get lost in Glass’ world is a perplexing, hypnotic experience that feels unmatched throughout the rest of cinema’s rich offerings.
Managing to speak to a plethora of ethereal moods, the work of Philip Glass on Koyaanisqatsi speaks to the beauty, violence, chaos and rhythmic pleasure of the city, entering into one’s mind when packed onto an underground train, stuck in rainy gridlocked traffic or shuffling like a pawn across a busy town centre.
