Music can become part of your identity if you learn about it at the right age. Some adults can pick up any instrument and learn them with the right amount of concentration, but if you learn theory when you are younger, it can consume you. In Ben Proudfoot and Kris Bowers’ glorious documentary short film, The Last Repair Shop, we meet young musicians who receive freely repaired instruments–a service that has been around in Los Angeles in 1959. For composer Katya Richardson, scoring this film was an opportunity to write music two different sets of artists.
Richardson’s score is lush and nimble. It captures the spirit of youth–that elusive exuberance–but also the wisdom of those who put such care into fixing their instruments. We do not see these kids opening up their repaired trumpets or flutes, but it’s almost as if Richardson’s score is the music that accompanies their commute to their new home.
When you are a kid, a big life event can feel like your whole life. As an adult, you want to hold onto things in order to remember them. This film is a beautiful bridge between those two ideals, and Richardson’s music provides the steps along the way.
Awards Daily: What are the pressures of scoring a film that deals with the emotional pulls of music itself?
Katya Richardson: “I like to think that scoring a film about music is every composer’s dream. It can offer so many creative possibilities, and having wonderful collaborators like Ben and Kris makes those possibilities all the more exciting. But at the same time, this project also felt like a confrontation of all my experiences and values as a musician. It was a dauntingly reflective task.
Once I stopped thinking about the scope and whether or not I could accomplish it, the music came more easily. I was less concerned about doing it justice and was able to draw from a more emotional place—my own experiences, first learning piano, and the incredibly gracious mentors who encouraged me to pursue this career. Scoring this film was my way of giving thanks to all the heroes in my life. And when art comes from a genuine place, others connect and feel it too. That is my ultimate hope with this score.”
AD: The title track has a curiosity but also a fearlessness to it. It reminded me of how you are a kid you feel like you can take on anything. Tell me about that queue. I love the layered, cascading piano towards the end.
KR: “The title track is one of my favorites because it’s the first glimpse at our four main characters. The opening shot is from inside a violin, which is a view we’re not used to seeing. It’s mysterious and dark, and you don’t quite know what you’re looking at. However, there’s a certain curiosity and playful reassurance when we see Dana’s eye move into the frame and blink at us. With this newfound confidence, the score keeps growing and growing until a sweeping melody carries us into the first wide shot of the instrument warehouse.
This particular scene was challenging for several reasons. It features a lot of sound design as the craftspeople are shown repairing and playing instruments on-screen. Therefore, I needed to incorporate those elements as though they were part of the score. Additionally, it was important for me to evoke a certain reverence through the scale of the orchestration, something that immediately reflects the craftspeople’s extraordinary impact. There is no dialogue in this sequence either, so the score plays a crucial role in conveying the hope and fearlessness that each of the four characters so strongly embodies.”
AD: The film introduces us to both children and adults but they never meet—that unknown bond is one of the reasons why the film is so powerful. How did you and Kris want to show the differences in age but keep it harmonious?
KR: “Even in the more lighthearted moments, it was important to ensure that the score didn’t come across as childish or immature. But the age difference between the subjects wasn’t really a factor for me. If anything, I believe that harmony speaks to the brilliant way in which Ben and Kris structured the film. By prefacing each of the four characters with a child that that craftsperson directly affects, that juxtaposition in itself creates a bond between the two.
It’s also worth noting that there is no score in any of the kids’ interviews. This is partly a practical choice to allow them to showcase their instruments without any interference. I also think it keeps their interviews very real and grounded. Since there’s already a lot of music throughout, the absence of score in these interviews creates more space for the viewer to form their own connections.”
AD: I love how the instruments complement one another in various tracks and introductions. In “Steve – Pianos” it’s not entirely piano and “I Love the Violin” begins with gentle, encouraging piano. What was important to you and Kris in terms of having different musical instruments enhancing the score?
KR: “The film is about a musical repair shop, so there are many opportunities for the soundtrack to react and highlight the instruments we see on screen or are mentioned by the characters. For example, Duane’s section is woodwind-based, but when he talks about finding a violin at a swap meet, I decided to bring in a violin solo to emphasize that moment. The freedom to make highly creative choices allows the score a great deal of personality, almost like an additional character. That artistic liberty was something I really valued in my collaboration with Kris and Ben.
Similar to “Peter and the Wolf,” each character in the film is associated with a different instrument family and theme. For example, Dana repairs strings, so we only hear stringed instruments. However, limiting ourselves to one instrument family at a time became too restrictive, so Kris and I decided that it made more sense for us to take a foreground-background approach. Like in Paty’s section, a brass quartet takes the spotlight, but woodwinds and strings support from underneath. While instrumentation was the overarching concept, our north star was always to elevate and serve the story.”
AD: “Baku, 1987” has some dangerous weight to it. That rumbling at the start of the queue is very palpable, and that track doesn’t sound like anything else in the score. Since it is so singular, what did you want to focus on in that queue? I love that moment of pounding before it’s taken away towards the end.
KR: “In this scene, Steve discusses the war that breaks out in his hometown of Baku and the horrific ethnic purging that ultimately leads to his father’s murder. This cue is the darkest moment in the film, so it needed to stand out from the rest of the score. Synthetic elements seemed appropriate in creating a sense of uncertainty reflective of the fog of war.
While the other cues from Steve’s section are very melodic and piano-driven, we chose to stick with that same instrument but use it in a much more obscure and violent way. For instance, we used knocks on the body of the piano as hits, and scrapes from inside the strings. Steve’s Theme is also heard in this cue, but in a much more discordant and fragmented iteration, as if struggling to break through the overwhelming texture. More and more layers are added, and then a final rhythmic pounding of the piano builds right as the reveal happens. It was an intense scene to score.”
AD: “The Alumni” has this major, inspirational feel to it. I literally get chills every time I listen to it. It builds on itself so well before it detours and keeps on the edge of our seat. Tell me about that queue.
KR: “I still get emotional every time I watch the end sequence with the live orchestra! Kris did an incredible job composing this piece. It takes you on a journey through all four characters’ themes, and it’s a celebratory moment in the film that demands an epic, grand finale. In many ways, I think this sequence represents the core of The Last Repair Shop. Repair people and music teachers transform so many lives through their thankless work. The choice to culminate with an orchestra of LAUSD students and alumni represents the direct impact that these craftspeople have had on generations. I admire Ben and Kris for acknowledging all that love and effort behind the scenes, and it’s so moving to see both schoolchildren and professionals all share in the joys of music. To craft a piece that’s playable for all skill levels, all while being emotionally profound, is a testament to Kris’ mastery as a composer.”
AD: If you could score your own story, what instrument do you think you would reach for first?
KR: “Without a doubt, I would choose the piano. Long before I started composing, the piano was my sanctuary. It helped me discover my love of story-telling and connect emotionally with others, and eventually led me to composition and film-scoring. To this day, it remains an essential part of my identity and creative process. Everything I write starts at the keyboard, so in that sense, it would be the most autobiographical choice.
I also believe that the piano is a very narrative instrument and can score any story. As a kid, I loved ballet and was fortunate enough to have a live accompanist in some of my dance classes. I was captivated by the versatility and orchestral quality of the instrument. It could take well-known ballet pieces, like Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker, and still sound as though an entire orchestra was playing. All the layers were there. But equally, a piano can sound entirely different on an Oscar Peterson record or Billy Joel song. That’s what’s magnetic about it. To me, the keyboard is the ultimate storytelling tool because of its dynamic range and ability to transcend genre. And it has a unique ability to draw out the personality of the performer too. No two people sound the same while playing it.”
You can watch Ben Proudfoot’s film below. You can listen to Katya Richardson’s score on Spotify.