One of America’s 
                  most celebrated modern composers, Philip Glass is no stranger 
                  to film scoring. His credits include Koyaanisqatsi (1983); 
                  Candyman (1992); Academy Award-nominated Kundun 
                  (1997); The Truman Show (1998) and The Hours (2002). 
                  This Academy Award-nominated, new score for Notes on a Scandal 
                  is one of his darkest and most powerful. 
                The Notes on 
                  a Scandal screenplay concentrates on the interaction between 
                  two women teachers: the lonely, embittered and ageing lesbian, 
                  Barbara Covett (Judi Dench) and Sheba Hart the younger married 
                  teacher with a handicapped child and, to Covett’s mind, a somewhat 
                  bohemian lifestyle. When Covett discovers that Sheba is having 
                  an affair with a young boy pupil, she exerts blackmail to develop 
                  her friendship with Sheba into something altogether more intense. 
                Director of Notes 
                  on a Scandal, Richard Eyre wanted the music to enforce the 
                  sense of the story as viewed through the eyes of the main character, 
                  Barbara Covett.
                I have not seen 
                  the film yet but have viewed a number of clips and trailers 
                  enough to appreciate the story line and absorb the atmosphere. 
                  This is a story of obsession and Glass’s dark relentless minimalist 
                  score fits it well. Glass’s harmonies, imaginative orchestrations 
                  especially for harp and horn, interesting modulations, and abrupt 
                  changes of tempo and mood sustain interest. To my ears there 
                  is something of a childhood playground tune in the main theme 
                  but horribly, cruelly distorted.
                From the score’s 
                  twenty tracks I will just cover a representative dozen or so. 
                  Immediately, the relentless dour minimalist murmurings of the 
                  lower strings of the opening track ‘First Day of School’ sound 
                  a dark, sour note; with only brief plaintive interjections from 
                  higher woodwinds. ‘The History’ allows this plaintiveness further 
                  development; a vulnerability that is Sheba’s; crueller lower 
                  strings shadowing Covett’s own view. ‘Invitation’ increases 
                  the tempo and introduces a sense of urgency and tension as well 
                  as a hint of baroque with imaginative material for the horns. 
                  Repetitive harp pizzicato chords and high strings suggest the 
                  happiness and innocence of ‘The Harts’, counterpointed with 
                  menacing lower string chords. ‘Discovery’ is self explanatory, 
                  the higher pitched material associated with Sheba very quickly 
                  crushed; Covett’s evil made musically manifest. The opening 
                  of ‘Courage’ allows warmth and there is a hint of Bernard Herrmann’s 
                  more tender material for Vertigo - and the swirling rhythms 
                  of anxiety and menace that interrupt that tenderness also echo 
                  Vertigo. ‘Someone in your garden’ and ‘Someone has died’ 
                  ratchet up the tension; the former with increasingly thunderous 
                  staccato bass drum beats, the latter with sourly reedy woodwind 
                  and angry string fugal material. ‘Betrayal’ is an embattlement 
                  with machine-gun-like drumming the music crushing everything 
                  in its path. ‘Barbara’s House’ with pounding percussive piano 
                  and wailing strings and winds really does enter gothic horror 
                  territory. The final track ‘I knew her’ brings some release, 
                  beginning with playground music that is innocent and unalloyed, 
                  with the foregoing darkness muted – somewhat - but we are left 
                  in no doubt that irreparable damage has been done.
                A relentlessly dour, 
                  obsessive downbeat score in line with the screenplay. But Glass’s 
                  imaginative writing sustains interest.
                Ian Lace