Music
Falcon Crest's theme tune was composed by Bill Conti, who also composed the themes to Dynasty, The Colbys and Cagney & Lacey. Several variations of the main theme were commissioned throughout the series' run, though the most different of these was the theme for season 9 which was done in a heavily synthetic, new-age style by musician Patrick O'Hearn.
There were also stylistic changes to the incidental music. During seasons 1 to 5, the music was performed by an orchestra; composed mainly by Dana Kaproff and Peter Myers. In seasons 6 and 7, the background music became electronic-based and was performed by single artists using a synclavier, one of the early high-tech synthesizers. Mark Snow, who later composed the theme of The X-Files was the main composer and performing musician from 1986-88. During season 8, the music returned to a more classical style, before the composers returned to the electronic style for the final season with the score provided by new-age composer Patrick O'Hearn.
Read more about this topic: Falcon Crest
Famous quotes containing the word music:
“If music in general is an imitation of history, opera in particular is an imitation of human willfulness; it is rooted in the fact that we not only have feelings but insist upon having them at whatever cost to ourselves.... The quality common to all the great operatic roles, e.g., Don Giovanni, Norma, Lucia, Tristan, Isolde, Brünnhilde, is that each of them is a passionate and willful state of being. In real life they would all be bores, even Don Giovanni.”
—W.H. (Wystan Hugh)
“What is our life? a play of passion;
Our mirth the music of division;
Our mothers’ wombs the tiring-houses be
Where we are dressed for this short comedy.”
—Sir Walter Raleigh (1552?–1618)
“And in the next instant, immediately behind them, Victor saw his former wife.
At once he lowered his gaze, automatically tapping his cigarette to dislodge the ash that had not yet had time to form. From somewhere low down his heart rose like a fist to deliver an uppercut, drew back, struck again, then went into a fast disorderly throb, contradicting the music and drowning it.”
—Vladimir Nabokov (1899–1977)