Composing

The Oscar-nominated sound team behind Guillermo del Toro’s “Frankenstein" explore the film’s epic and deeply expressive soundtrack. Sound designer and supervising sound editor Nathan Robitaille, supervising sound editor Nelson Ferreira, re-recording mixer Brad Zoern, and production sound mixer Greg Chapman break down their long-standing collaboration with del Toro and the bold creative choices that shaped the film’s sonic identity. From early sound exploration and practical effects to dynamic use of Dolby Atmos® and the creation of the film’s unforgettable creature voice, this conversation offers a deep dive into how sound drives the emotion, scale, and storytelling in one of the year’s most ambitious films.

“Guillermo is really, really great about wanting to fill the space. This comes from working with him for a long time. We were able to anticipate all this stuff. There's moments where he wants the concentration on the screen and he wants to pull everything back in the room. Dolby Atmos allows us to do that so beautifully and separate stuff and make it where we can focus. This movie lends itself to Atmos… It's just such a great tool and it was so much fun on this mix to use all that. We have such a beautiful visual to work with. We have to meet that standard with the sound.”

—Brad Zoern, Re-recording Mixer, “Frankenstein”

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nc7Ah8Uw1Gw)

I came across this video featuring Liza Beck, and it’s such a compelling reminder of how composition, sound capture, and spatial audio can completely reshape how an audience feels music.

You can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BpBGsWbqzZw

Liza talks openly about challenging assumptions, starting with something as noted and often dismissed as a plastic recorder, then expanding that idea into immersive, emotionally charged work using Dolby Atmos, binaural heads, and cube array recordings.

Her goal isn’t polish for polish’s sake, it’s impact. Making listeners question reality, intimacy, discomfort, and beauty, all through sound placement and texture.

I love how this reframes composition as world-building:

Sound isn’t just melody and harmony. Its proximity. Space. Tension. Memory. Presence.

Curious to hear from you all:

Do you ever think about where a sound lives, not just what it is?

What “non-musical” sounds or objects have inspired your compositions?

Most composers think they’re struggling with melody, harmony, or orchestration.

But the real friction usually starts before any notes are written — at the level of the emotional container.

When the emotional container is unstable, the composer ends up:

- chasing references instead of leading

- rewriting cues that were never anchored

- reacting to notes instead of interpreting them

- drifting between tones

- composing from instinct instead of clarity

The emotional container isn’t the genre.

It’s not the tempo.

It’s not the instrumentation.

The emotional container is the identity, entitlement, and pathway of the score:

- Identity: What the score is emotionally — and what it is not

- Entitlement: What emotional territory the score owns — the promise it must deliver

- Pathway: How the score moves emotionally — the inevitable progression, not the improvised one

When the container is unclear, the cue collapses.

When the container is locked, the cue becomes inevitable.

Upstream clarity for composers isn’t about fixing notes.

It’s about stabilizing the emotional architecture so the notes have something to stand on.

If you’re developing a score and want the emotional container locked before diving deeper into cues or revisions, I run an Upstream Clarity Diagnostic that stabilizes the identity, entitlement, and pathway so the music can move forward without drift.

https://vermilioncountyfirst.com/2026/02/08/2026-scl-awards-honor-top-composers-across-film-tv-and-gaming/

I wrote this song years ago, after losing my cat during a difficult stretch of my life. At the time, I didn’t know the song would stay with me the way it has — or that it would quietly resurface when loss showed up again.

This week, after losing Shade, I found myself thinking about how certain songs don’t belong to a moment so much as they hold one. They become a place you can return to when words aren’t enough.

Creativity doesn’t fix loss. But sometimes it gives it somewhere to live.

This is July.

https://youtu.be/6A3JstGlHO4?si=aICYmAxAWX6VJdXV

Are you someone who hears the cue before touching an instrument…

or does it reveal itself note by note?

I’ve noticed both approaches lead to very different results.

Have you ever found yourself so immersed in one sound, artist, or musical world that everything else fades into the background—not from being stuck, but from a kind of quiet contentment?

I wanted to share this short but fascinating video where Hans Zimmer talks about discovering the unforgettable voice behind Dune.

In the clip, Zimmer explains how a friend stumbled across Loire Cotler on YouTube and immediately recognized something extraordinary. What struck me most wasn’t just her technical ability, but why her voice is so powerful. Zimmer describes her as someone who understands the absolute limits of what a human voice can do and who dares to sing right at that edge.

That idea feels especially relevant for composers.

So much of memorable film scoring comes from risk:

Choosing texture over polish

Emotion over safety

Letting a sound feel raw, uncomfortable, or even dangerous

Loire Cotler’s performance works because it’s not trying to be “pretty.” It’s brave. It’s expressive. It lives right at the boundary of control.

Watch the video here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SX3fGTkYVo

As composers, where do you feel most tempted to play it safe and where have you taken a creative risk that paid off? Have you ever pushed an instrument, voice, or sound design choice right to its limit to serve the story?

2025 had many great scores, and composer Max Richter just spoke with Finneas to break down his score for HAMNET. Read their conversation here: https://www.interviewmagazine.com/film/max-richter-takes-finneas-inside-his-hamnet-score

I found it interesting that he found using a female voice, such as Chloe Zhao, as a guide to keep the nature aspects of the film present thorugh out the score.

What do you think? Did their conversation open you up to any curiosities?

We talk a lot about music as something that soothes or supports—but what about when it does the opposite?

Have you ever had a piece of music unexpectedly stir up old emotion or past pain and hit harder than you anticipated?

I’m curious how others experience that line between music as comfort and music as a trigger—and how you navigate it as both a listener and a composer.

PART 2 — “The Three Engines Every Composer Must Separate”

Most composing overwhelm doesn’t come from lack of talent or inspiration. It comes from a structural collapse:

you’re trying to run three different engines at the same time.

When these engines collapse into one moment, the composer experiences:

- confusion

- false starts

- endless revisions

- emotional fatigue

- “nothing sounds right”

This isn’t a musical issue — it’s a sequencing issue.

Here are the three engines:

Engine 1 — The Identity Engine (Upstream)

This engine answers the question:

“What is this score ultimately about?”

Not musically — structurally.

Examples:

- “This score is about fracture.”

- “This score is about inevitability.”

- “This score is about a world losing its center.”

This is the spine.

If the spine is unclear, everything downstream becomes guesswork.

Engine 2 — The Function Engine (Midstream)

This engine answers:

“What does the score need to do in this moment?”

- stabilize

- destabilize

- reveal

- conceal

- interrupt

- support

This is the behavioral layer — the score’s job inside the scene.

Engine 3 — The Execution Engine (Downstream)

This engine answers:

“How do I express that musically?”

- motif

- harmony

- orchestration

- tempo

- palette

- texture

This is where the notes finally appear.

⭐ The Composer’s Clarity Rule

You cannot run all three engines at once.

When you try, you freeze.

When you separate them, you move.

Upstream clarity is the discipline of sequencing:

- Identity — what the score is

- Function — what the score does

- Execution — how the score sounds

This is how composers stop guessing and start composing with structural confidence.