A certain kind of melody is embedded deep in the DNA of silent movies. It's a melancholy diatonic waltz, the love child of "After the Ball" and Charlie Chaplin, whose genius extended to sentimental themes that prod us to smile through our tears. The living master of the idiom, which is not so much composed as recycled, is born-and-bred New Yorker Carl Davis, a workhorse of '70s British cinema who scored several new films while finding his true métier in re-scoring silents and TV series about the silents. The last place you expect to find an outstanding example of that kind of melody, which has done more for Kleenex than the flu, is in the work of a musician and composer closely associated with the European jazz avant-garde. My first response... More >>>