Ulysses Arts | Silent London

As you should know by now, this blog does indeed play favourites. And Stephen Horne’s score for Hitchcock’s The Manxman (Alfred Hitchcock, 1928) is one of my all-time favourites. I loved it at the London Film Festival in 2012, and again with the orchestra in Pordenone inn 2022. Beautiful music, flavoured with folk and nourished by emotion. The film’s not bad, either.

So I am thrilled, honestly, that this wonderful score by the award-winning Stephen Horne is going to be released as an album, via Ulysses Arts. The digital version (which may include a few extras) will be released on 10 January 2025, so bookmark this link to find out full details about digital downloads, including advance singles and pre-orders.

However, for us physical-media fans, limited copies of the CD version are available now. Rumour has it that Horne may have a few of said CDs to sell in Pordenone next week. So if you’re lucky, you can stop him and buy one.

Also next week, the first digital single will be released. I listened to it while writing this post, which is probably why there are tears on my keyboard. I have no higher recommendation…

Pre-order The Manxman by Stephen Horne from Ulysses Arts.
Stephen Horne will be accompanying The Manxman at Polperro Village Hall, right where the film was shot, on 19 October, a screening curated by South West Silents.
The Manxman will be screened with Stephen Horne’s orchestral score by the 2025 San Francisco Silent Film Festival on 11 January 2025 at Grace Cathedral. I think I wrote the screening notes for this – hope I did the film justice.

This is a guest post by Silent London award-winning silent film accompanist Stephen Horne, to mark the release of his stunning new album Silent Sirens from Ulysses Arts on 9 July.

Early in my career as a silent film accompanist I had an experience, which in retrospect probably affected the way I think about the work. I was accompanying a Louise Brooks film that, as was typical at the time, I had not seen in advance. The piano was positioned directly beneath the screen, so that the image filled my field of vision. I recall it being one of those rare evenings when I was totally lost in the film and music seemed to flow directly from brain to piano, almost bypassing the hand.

At one point Louise was held in an extended close-up – her smiling, enigmatic beauty framed by silver light. Then she started to speak and, although there was no intertitle, it was very clear to me what she was saying. In fact, just for a few seconds, I could actually hear her voice speaking the words. At least, that’s how it seemed. In retrospect, I realised that I had almost certainly been lip-reading. However, something about the moment, as immersive as it was, made the words transform into the sound of a voice within my head.

Continue reading →