Lalo Schifrin
Bullitt

I often go in search of signs or pretexts that can trigger that wonderful mechanism of our mind, the "involuntary memory." At the top of the ranking of said psychic activity, in my experience, after scents, I place sounds. Because who hasn't experienced listening to music that, directly or indirectly, has projected them into an emotionally retroactive dimension, of indefinable deciphering? Well, this existential practice with onanistic roots has the power to contribute to the recovery of the identifying traits of our existence. We move forward by continuously looking back, without tiring, in search of our "remote emotions" removed by the monotony and frenzy of daily life, to be inserted as missing pieces in our story. "À la recherche du temps perdu" or, in other words, to remind ourselves who we are when we lose ourselves, everything is in this. Only thus do we implement our "salvation." Music is one of the thaumaturgical arts (perhaps the most effective) because of its irrational nature, not directly investing the logic typical of language (signifier/signified) to bring the "truth" to the surface, without requiring explanation. At that point, we can "play" with it, without running any risks (unlike psychoanalysis), creating a "new experiential knowledge."

This happens to me every time I listen to a soundtrack like "Bullitt", a movie by Peter Yates, starring Steve McQueen and composed by the great Argentine composer Lalo Schifrin in 1968. I think it is necessary to still present Lalo Schifrin to the vast network of onlookers, but not to the many passionate film enthusiasts who populate the bustling corridors of Debasio. Schifrin is best known for composing the unmistakable theme of the American television series "Mission Impossible." But not everyone knows that he is, above all, a brilliant composer of countless soundtracks and various compositions; he has also collaborated with musicians from diverse musical backgrounds, embracing all styles, even the avant-garde. We recall here his prestigious partnership with Dizzy Gillespie in 1960, as a pianist in his New York quintet, where he composed two pieces for the great jazz trumpeter, which enrich his long and talented career. After graduating in piano and composition in Paris, he attended none other than Olivier Messiaen's courses (a reference point for many contemporary musicians, including Robert Fripp), acquiring compositional originality and a penchant for the disparate use of musical instruments.

"Bullitt," a crime-drama film, is fertile ground for twelve very interesting tracks, intended to dress the well-known shots, but here what matters is its decontextualization, which allows us to let the full expressive and evocative potential of suspense-jazz flute, masterfully arranged by Schifrin, flow, starting from the first track "Bullitt (Main Title)" that engages us (including myself) in an epochal transfer, of high imaginative content; a kind of time and space machine, estranging and revealing the "American Dream" of the enamored Europeans. It is not necessary to have many years to belong to this music; the engaging effect manifests in all ways, from that "collective unconscious" that unites us. The metropolis, the chaos, but also the intimacy and sensuality, arrive in the room of our expectations. "Ice Pick Mike" belongs to the all-American dualism, suspended between the fascinating vertigo of crowded skyscrapers and the exasperated escape towards large extra-urban spaces, "vertical versus horizontal," some structuralist intellectual might say. Notable is the swing for flute of "A Song For Cathy," preceded by a sequence of pentatonic chords for electric guitar. In "Shifting Gears," the high state of tension is maintained, never exceeding into panic; indeed, the evolution of pieces in Schifrin is always controlled by strong stylistic rigor and musical narration with an unscripted emotional infatuation. The relaxing moments of the reassuring "The First Snowfall" lull the listener towards the finale of "Bullitt (End Title)," a reprise of the splendid initial theme for electric guitar in a swinging blues key.

To conclude, let's say that "Bullitt," in its sequential discontinuity, by its nature (being born from a cinematic logic), is a metaphor of memory, understood as a mechanism that emerges into the light of our consciousness at seemingly unconnected intervals, which function as emotional references, from which it is possible to implement that constructive comeback of our history. In other words, myths never cease to surprise in their indispensability. In my honest opinion, unmissable!