The cinematic world consists of two types: those who believe that continually recasting from a favoured coterie of actors can endanger suspension of disbelief, and those who do not. Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar (b.1949) is clearly an adherent of the latter school, his favourites including Carmen Maura, Antonio Banderas, Victoria Abril, Rossy de Palma, Marisa Paredes and, more recently, Penélope Cruz. Imagine the temptation then to solicit continued contributions from those behind the scenes, such as composers. Beginning with La flor de mi secreto (1995) Alberto Iglesias (b.1955) has scored the last nine of Almodóvar's 22 feature-length films. Lest it be imagined that Iglesias has simply benefited from a localist creed, it should be stressed that previous Almodóvar composers included Ennio Morricone (Átame! 1989) and Ryûichi Sakamoto (High Heels, 1991).
Born Alberto Iglesias Fernandez-Berridi in San Sebastián, in Spain's País Vasco, Iglesias studied composition there before going on to study piano and composition in Paris. Piano being such a universally cinematic instrument it would be fanciful to estimate the importance of the instrument in a composer's life from its ubiquity in film scores. However, one track in particular, “No Se A Donde Voy, Muy Lejos” (I don't know where I'm going, very far) from Julio Medem's 2001 Lucia y el Sexo (Sex and Lucia) suggests familiarity with nifty technique. This same piece also hints at breadth of influence and a healthy eclecticism; its almost Second Viennese School piano scurryings are underpinned and energised by a rapid and continuous pulse which his earlier Austrian counterparts would have eschewed. Less frenetic piano writing reveals Iglesias to have an excellent ear for the relationship between the spacing of notes in piano chords and lightness. Almodóvar's 2011 La piel que habito (The skin I live in) features, not to give away too much of the plot, abduction and involuntary gender reassignment. When the victim is eventually afforded some freedom of movement, Iglesias mirrors the attendant open horizons with calm chords whose notes are spaced more widely apart than in earlier, more claustrophobic moments.
As ubiquitous as the piano in Iglesias' scores are strings. Two equal and opposite skills can be noted in his fine string writing. The first concerns supplying energy to the moment, often achieved by detached articulation, usually of repeated notes, with mild dissonance lending a pressuring hand where necessary. El Cigarral from La piel que hábito is a fine example. The second technique concerns the subtle introduction of dissonance to suggest trouble on its way as opposed to already present. Here lies the true art of the film composer, to prepare us for what might be coming as opposed merely to mirroring what the screen already shows. Jordania (Jordan) from Almodóvar's 2002 Hable con ella (Talk to her) is a fine example of subtle dissonance - in this case sustained string notes in an otherwise energetic texture - employed to hint at disquieting recollections.
The same film also supplies many thrilling moments of solo violin writing whose frenetic textures call to mind Obsession, the Prelude from Ysaÿe's Sonata No. 2 in A minor Op.27.