In this series of blogs, I explore the detailed musical depths of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power. For a comprehensive look at my score for the series, explore my previous blog entries here, and check out the soundtrack albums (a compilation for each season and a comprehensive album for each episode) available on all platforms.
SCORING EPISODE 204
“ELDEST”
SPOILERS AHEAD: Scoring this episode was one of my favorite experiences of the series thus far, because it gave me the opportunity to write music for beloved concepts from Tolkien’s writing that had never before been presented in any screen adaptation. I leaned into musical magic.
THE STRANGER ENCOUNTERS TOM
As detailed in my earlier blog entry, I composed the song “Old Tom Bombadil” in early 2022, so that the actor playing Tom, Rory Kinnear, would be able to sing the song on location. Nearly a year later, in early 2023, I began scoring the episode in which he makes his debut, “Eldest.” I converted his vocal song into an instrumental melodic theme for him for the score.
The Stranger, having survived the tornado he inadvertently created, wanders the deserts of Rhûn, in search of his Harfoot companions. As he approaches a modest hut and garden, light hammered dulcimer arpeggios tease out the opening ostinato of “Old Tom Bombadil.” Tom’s melodic theme makes its first appearance not in the score, but sung from the playful voice of Tom himself, Rory Kinnear. The melody finally makes its mark on the instrumental score in the next scene, when Tom introduces himself after having rescued the Stranger from a devouring tree, reminiscent of his introduction in The Fellowship of the Ring. Here, my frequent musical partner Eric Rigler offers a gentle refrain of the Tom Bombadil theme on a low Irish whistle.
Later, in Tom’s hut, the Stranger hears a mysterious female voice singing along with Tom in the other room. This was my wife and frequent musical collaborator Raya Yarbrough making a cameo in the role of Bombadil’s wife, Goldberry, the River-daughter. Then, an extended scene occurs where Tom lays out difficult truths to his visitor. For this sequence I wove together disparate musical threads of the Tom Bombadil theme, the Stranger theme, the Rhûn theme, and the Sauron theme.
The scene begins with Tom’s dulcimer ostinato swaying gently beneath magical chords, presented in high strings and female choir. Tom proclaims himself “Eldest,” and a chorale of rich strings and humming male vocals underscore the moment with the rich chord progression of his theme. A solo bassoon enters, offering a plaintive rendition of his melody.
The musical focus shifts from Tom to the Stranger, when he directly asks for Tom’s help learning to control magic. Here, a solo cello calls out his theme from its top-most register. Voiced this high, the cello has a bright energy that I felt underlined the Stranger’s yearning for knowledge.
The mood is broken as a distant horse whinny draws their attention to the presence of the Guadrim, mercenaries working for the Dark Wizard, riding across distant dunes. The strings of the Bulgarian gadulka churn urgently on the ostinato of the Rhûn theme, while its melody slithers above on the yaylı tanbur, supported by menacing orchestral brass chords.
Tom makes clear to the Stranger that his task is to confront both the Dark Wizard and Sauron, while high string harmonics offer a glint of the Sauron theme. The score swells with a tragic, climactic fanfare of the Stranger theme as the crushing realization of this burden weighs on him.
CONCERNING STOORS
While the Stranger hangs out with Tom Bombadil, his two lost companions, Nori and Poppy, are shocked to encounter a fellow halfling named Merrimac. Merrimac leads them to a beautiful civilization secluded in a deep canyon populated by a group of halflings, the Stoors. This sequence is underscored entirely with an upbeat new theme, the Stoors theme.
As revealed later in this episode, the Harfoot tribe shares a common ancestry with the Stoors, so I wanted the Stoors theme and Harfoot theme to feel like two pieces from the same puzzle. I rearranged, yet preserved, all the primary elements of the Harfoot theme: uneven rhythmic meter, wooden percussion including West African balafons, Celtic instrumentation including Eric Rigler’s performances of pennywhistle and bagpipes, Paul Cartwright on fiddle, Bruce Carver on bodhrán frame drum, and evocative melodic writing.
Nori and Poppy discover that the Stoors are quite different from Harfoots. They’ve settled down, living in holes in the ground, suggestive of the Hobbits we know will exist in a few thousand years. The Harfoot theme’s tricky 11/8 meter feels wobbly, like a jagged wagon wheel stumbling as it rolls, an appropriate feeling for a homeless tribe of wanderers. Technically another asymmetrical meter, the Stoors theme’s 5/4 groove feels relatively more grounded, subliminally suggesting that they are more comfortable where they live. Like the Harfoots theme, the Stoors theme rests above a bouncy ostinato played by wooden mallet percussion.
The ostinato lays the foundation for the primary Stoors theme melody that enters first on a solo hammered dulcimer, then returns later on a Scottish fiddle performed by my longtime collaborator Paul Cartwright.
I am always especially mindful of the first two notes in every theme I write for The Rings of Power, careful to ensure each theme starts with a unique intervallic leap moving up or down. However, no major theme thus far has started with repeated instances of the same note. By starting with the same note repeated over and over, the opening phrase of the Stoors theme hammers home the idea that they are a people firmly rooted in their homes.
As the camera pulls back and reveals more of the Stoors village, the score transitions to the Stoors “B theme.” This half of the theme is more emotional, with lush harmonies, and a stronger Celtic influence, with a pennywhistle offering a simple pentatonic folk-inspired melody.
Later in the episode, the Stoors’ leader Gundabale Earthauler, played with folksy authority by Tanya Moodie, reveals to Nori, at an ancient cave painting, that their tribes are connected. Here, the score quotes a ghostly, distant version of “This Wandering Day” in a solo fiddle. The melody begins in reverb, like a distant memory, and gradually becomes clearer as Nori pieces together the significance of Gundabale’s tale.
This touching moment of connection between Gundabale and Nori is short-lived, however, as the fierce Guadrim charge into the village, scattering cowering halflings against the rock walls. The Guadrim’s menacing threats are underscored with the churning Bulgarian women’s choir, gadulka, and Turkish yaylı tanbur colors of the Rhûn theme.
FORGIVENESS TAKES AN AGE
“Eldest” also follows the story of Isildur, Estrid, and Arondir, as they lead other refugees from Pelargir on a search to find Theo, after his mysterious abduction in the previous episode. Searching the camp where Theo was lost, Arondir follows mysterious flower petals to discover a bloody, recently severed arm. His horror is supported in the score by dissonant clusters in the orchestra, and the same pulsing rhythm of wooden percussion that underscored Theo’s capture in “The Eagle and the Sceptre.”
The Estrid theme plays a significant role in these scenes. It first appears as Estrid suggests to Arondir they search the forests to the North. Here, her melody emerges first on a solo French horn, then an oboe, then orchestral strings. As each theme fragment builds in intensity, Arondir’s suspicion of Estrid mounts.
Her theme returns in the next scene, now in Olav Luksengård Mjelva’s Hardanger fiddle, enhancing the flirtatious chemistry between her and Isildur.
Arondir confirms his suspicions, revealing to Isildur she bears the brand of Adar on her neck: she has deceived Isildur. They throw Estrid in shackles, insisting that she lead them into the woods to Theo’s captors.
Along the way, Arondir finds more flower petals, and once again, that anxious pulse of wooden percussion ignites. These colors carry across the cut to a scene revealing that Theo and other captive wild men are imprisoned in a large tree whose branches have been curled into a cage. The murky orchestral textures in this scene rattle with echoes of wooden percussion. For two episodes this wooden percussion has been moving closer and closer to the forefront of the score. Now, finally its significance is revealed just a few scenes later, when Isildur, Estrid, and Arondir are attacked by two Ents, Snaggleroot and Winterbloom, voiced by cinematic icons Jim Broadbent and Olivia Williams.
The Ents are a race of tree-like beings, among the most beloved of Tolkien’s creations. Evading their vicious attacks, Arondir eventually calms them down enough to speak with them. As evidenced by her warm, female voice, Winterbloom is an Entwife. The Entwives had long since been lost by the time of the events of The Lord of the Rings books and films, so fans of the lore will likely appreciate the opportunity presented by The Rings of Power to witness an Entwife in an onscreen adaptation for the first time. While I represented the physical threat of the Ents with pounding wooden percussion, I wanted to give Winterbloom a special theme all her own. As she speaks with Arondir, the score resonates with the Entwives theme.
Here, the wooden percussion has settled into a gentle heartbeat of log drums. Representing Winterbloom’s maternal spirit, the melody is sung by a female choir. I was thrilled to collaborate with our Tolkien scholars to present the lyrics in Tolkien’s sonorous Entish language, a fitting tongue for such a slow, deliberate, and elegant passage.
Entish:
Enwina-nahti-nu, winya-raivë.
Voro-apsenië lenca-tulusta.
Anda-enyalië nénëa-wenya.
Ná senda.
English:
New bark covering old scars.
Forgiveness takes an age.
Long memory washed in rain.
Be at peace.
I strove to write a piece of music beautiful enough to help audiences appreciate the magnificent mystery of seeing an Entwife, one of Tolkien’s most elusive creatures.
The sequence ends with surprisingly emotional payoffs. The Estrid theme builds dramatically as Isildur and Estrid nearly kiss, before the moment is cut short when her betrothed, Hagen, arrives, having been rescued from the Ents.
Young actor Tyroe Muhafidin brings a heart-wrenching pathos to the character of Theo, particularly in the episode’s most moving moment, where Arondir and Theo reunite and embrace. Here, a solo oboe offers a plaintive rendition of the Bronwyn and Arondir theme. Throughout the first season, double-reed woodwind instruments have always represented Bronwyn. The oboe and English horn were noticeably absent from Raya Yarbrough’s mournful funeral performance of this theme, underscoring Bronwyn’s absence. I was inspired to bring the oboe back for this moment to suggest to the audience that Bronwyn’s spirit has been restored, and now she will live on in the memories of these two men. A broken family has been, in some small way, repaired.
BARROW-WIGHTS
The fourth story arc in “Eldest” follows Galadriel and Elrond, as they lead their Elven companions on an urgent journey to Eregion to warn Celebrimbor about Sauron. For their run across the wilderness, I wrote a soaring, epic passage for orchestra and choir. One of the best things about scoring Lord of the Rings is being able to write huge symphonic gestures like this!
Reaching a destroyed bridge, Elrond and Galadriel argue over which new path to take, while their musical themes clash in the score. Responding to Elrond’s new role as military leader, one ranking higher than Galadriel, low brass offers a stern rendition of his theme, a far cry from the placid clarinet tones that so often carry his melody.
Against Galadriel’s advice, the warriors attempt to pass through Tyrn Gorthad, the Barrow-downs, where ancient lords and kings were laid to rest. They are attacked by evil spirits known as Barrow-wights, in a horrifying, tense sequence.
As with Tom Bombadil and Goldberry, the Barrow-wights originated in The Fellowship of the Rings and also have never appeared yet in any screen adaptation. Tolkien imbued these creatures with an inherent musicality, writing that the Barrow-wights whisper an eerie poem. Elven warrior Vorohir is the first of their company to hear these quiet voices and describes it to Galadriel as being “almost like a song.”
I was excited to incorporate this iconic text into the score. The track begins with the vocal recording of the Barrow-wights themselves, the four actors from the cast who provided the voices of the creatures: Jessica Carroll, Dean Williamson, Kevin Howarth, and Matthew Gammie. Their eerie, breathy voices build energy and menace with Tolkien’s chilling text.
Cold be hand and heart and bone,
and cold be sleep under stone:
never more to wake on stony bed,
never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead.
In the black wind the stars shall die,
and still on gold here let them lie,
till the dark lord lifts up his hand
over dead sea and withered land.
Beneath them, the tempo gradually increases, as the choir and orchestra slowly overtake the whispers, building an ominous, dissonant cluster as the Elven warriors realize they are surrounded. When the action breaks out, I employ classic symphonic horror techniques to amplify the dread, like snap pizzicato clusters and snarling brass, along with heroic fanfares of Elrond’s theme as he remembers ancient lore and realizes how to defeat the Barrow-wights.
GALADRIEL STANDS ALONE
After escaping Barrow-downs, the Elves discover Adar’s legions marching upon Eregion. Both the Orcs and the singers in the score chant “Nampat!” (meaning “Death!” in Tolkien’s language of Mordor, Black Speech) and step in time to the pulsing drums of Adar’s theme. Encountering a band of Orcs, Galadriel selflessly stands them down so her companions can escape.
The ensuing battle is powered by pounding drums, swirling strings, and sequential, heroic fragments of the Galadriel theme. Her theme has made surprisingly few appearances in the season two score thus far, exclusively in quietly gentle or plaintive arrangements. This action scene marks the return of Galadriel the mighty warrior and gave me the opportunity to put her melody back in soaring French horns and trumpets. Her choreography provides ample opportunity for frame-specific orchestral flourishes (as did season one’s “Scherzo for Violin and Swords”). There, she bested her adversary with flourish. Here, she is overcome by Adar. His ominous melodic theme is whispered by his signature instrument, a Middle Eastern woodwind called a ney. A huge snarling brass crescendo ramps towards the cut to black and the ending credits: legendary vocalist Rufus Wainwright’s performance of my “Old Tom Bombadil” song!
“Eldest” allowed for a hugely diverse range of storytelling. In a single episode, I was allowed to explore a song for Tom Bombadil, help cast the role of Goldberry, set the iconic Barrow-wights poem to music, write a wooden-percussion-infused theme for the Entwives, and more. I was struck by how even just a single episode could allow me to give voice to so many characters and ideas from Tolkien’s writings that had never been part of any mainstream adaptation before. I was honored to give them their voices.
As I completed this episode, I took a few deep breaths, realizing that I was finally at the halfway point of scoring this massive season of television. However, I braced myself knowing that the last four episodes eclipse the first four in narrative ambition and emotional impact. I knew they would require of me the most expressive and symphonic music I could muster.
—Bear
