The power of video game music to inspire audiences - old and new

Thomas Böcker
Friday, September 10, 2021

Plus: watch the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic premiere of a new work by composer Yoko Shimomura

For over two decades, Thomas Böcker has produced award-winning video game concerts with orchestras around the world. Ahead of the launch of his newest project with the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra, he encourages us to think differently about music by video game composers.

When Japanese conductor and composer Koichi Sugiyama presented his first Family Classic Concert at Suntory Hall in Tokyo in 1987, his self-declared aim was to bring families to classical music; he took the unusual approach of combining music from Camille Saint-Saëns’ Carnival of the Animals with his own work – the music from the now popular Dragon Quest video game series. As demonstrated by countless sold-out concerts in the years that followed, he had captured the zeitgeist – particularly with his music from virtual worlds. It was some time before the West took up the idea of performances of video game music, not least because acceptance of the medium was comparatively low. However, an orchestral performance at the Leipzig Gewandhaus in 2003 was met with such enthusiasm that it can be considered the spark that lit the fire: it was followed by world tours with varied programmes by a range of producers, which then paved the way for collaborations with renowned orchestras such as the London Symphony Orchestra, the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra, the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra and the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra. These all saw an opportunity here to attract younger audiences to concert halls. Unsurprisingly, because when the average age of traditional audiences for top-ranking orchestras is over 60, they can be forgiven for wanting to tap into a new target group; and suddenly the majority of the audience for video game music was aged between 25 and 35. Upholding tradition while encouraging innovation was the maxim: the concert hall as a meeting place for the generations.

A still from Merregnon: Land of Silence, by video game composer Yoko Shimomura 

There have been, and will doubtless continue to be, a multitude of initiatives aiming to achieve this – but in our fast-moving world, where our consumption of media has changed so much in recent years, we need new ideas if we are to get people enthused. People’s receptiveness to classical music, and their willingness to keep it alive, needs to be substantially higher if classical music is to continue to have relevance for a broad spectrum of listeners. Social media and streaming services have shaped how information is transmitted and communicated. So it is interesting that the game music that is most popular amongst concert-goers tends to look to the past and often recalls the late Romantic period, with echoes of impressionism and expressionism. In some instances with lush orchestration, it is full of colour, emotional. The melodies that in games tell stories of joy, love, war and sorrow are sweeping and appealing. Their composers are to be credited for having made them so accessible, for having tailored their themes to characters, places and situations and thus maximised their recognition factor.

In the games themselves, the context requires that the music respond to events; sometimes within a very short time, depending on what players do, what path they take, how quickly they complete the tasks. Compositions today are primarily interactive: composers cannot know in advance how players will react – each will have a different approach. This entails complex work with audio tracks; whether it is menacing layers of strings that glide into the soundtrack when players put themselves in danger or brass fanfares when they are successful. Arranging game music for the concert hall requires vast knowledge and in most cases helpers with an understanding of how to weave these compositions into a symphonic poem that reminds listeners of game play and tells a story that is universal enough to take players back to it: a musical expression of the collective experience.

For the objective classical music listener, this presents an opportunity to engage with the orchestral sounds that inspire young people, and to learn something about their emotional world. Because listening to music always involves some active comparison with your own life. It builds a bridge, it’s a road leading into the fascinating realm of symphonic music.

A fictitious concert as the starting point for the exploration of the world – one whose theme is no less than the challenges of life – might start with Beethoven’s Coriolan Overture, continue with Mozart’s Piano Concerto No 23 in A Major – and conclude in the second half with Uematsu’s music for the video game Final Fantasy VII; whose 45 minutes symphony in three movements tell of powerful adversaries, inner turmoil, love, uncertainty and confrontation; a condensed version of what a player experiences, often over 70-100 hours at the console. A programme of darkness and light, foregrounding music that is heavy and emotional but also accessible, that will resonate with everyone. Or the musical sounds of the world could be combined, regional commonalities highlighted, influences of cultural groups elucidated. Expressed through a solo concert by a darbouka virtuoso such as Rony Barrak, a piece such as Mitsuda’s Suite from the Chrono Trigger and Chrono Cross role-playing games; which inter alia depict travel through a multitude of eras, for instance, from primeval times to the Middle Ages – right through to the end of time. All framed by Nielsen’s Aladdin and Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade. And if the programme structure were allowed to become freer and include shorter pieces, it could travel deeper and deeper into the realm of mythical creatures, of discovery and adventure, such as Karpman’s soundtrack for EverQuest II, Wintory’s for Journey, or foray into horror just as Graves did with Dead Space.

The Royal Stockholm Philharmonic recording Yoko Shimomura's new work (photo: Yanan Li)

Whether attending a Game Music Concert is likely to make younger listeners turn to classical music is a less compelling question. It is entirely possible that they will, and it is one of the bigger opportunities presented to orchestras in recent years – but it is not a necessity, as long as orchestras enable people to immerse themselves in music that they have never experienced before live. After all, surveys have shown that going to a Game Music Concert is the first contact many people will ever have had with an orchestra. Programmes should offer these concert-goers a range of alternatives from different genres, under the umbrella of symphonic music.

This was the idea that played a decisive role in the creation of the Merregnon: Land of Silence concerts for schools and families – presenting music in the form of a symphonic fairy tale, music that entertains and promotes immersion. Because music education is not about teaching, it’s about fascination. At best it awakens an enthusiasm that leads to spontaneous engagement with the subject, without any finger-wagging or other overtly educational components. Rather, it deploys tools that fit the present time; in the form of a project involving international artists from a range of disciplines. Merregnon: Land of Silence thus offers music by a Japanese composer, Yoko Shimomura, whose name is well-known in the world of video games by dint of sales running into the millions. As a contemporary composer, she is of relevance for today’s audiences: she demonstrates how it is possible for orchestral music to enthuse audiences and fill concert halls. This is an aesthetic that has been taken up by Merregnon: Land of Silence and thanks are due to the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra for recognising its potential – and, through their willingness to give the world’s premiere performance, for having made the concert project possible.

When families watch the concert video of this symphonic fairy tale about the adventures of young Miru and her faithful dog Mako, they will enjoy an experience of the beauty of orchestral music that transcends the generations – they will learn about each other and their appreciation of each other’s worlds will be enhanced.

Merregnon: Land of Silence is available to watch for free on Konserthuset Play. Find it here: konserthuset.se/en/merregnon

Now explore some of the music mentioned in the article above

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