“The Notes Are in My Head”: ‘Mission: Impossible’ Composer, Remembered

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In our lengthy chat several years back, before it became our final one, Lalo Schifrin posed this question: “When you pen your articles, do you feel the necessity of having a piano? I assume not, as you seem to have all the words at your disposal and merely use grammar and syntax to expand upon them. This is similar for me in composing music; I don’t necessarily need a musical instrument to create a piece, as the notes are already residing within my mind.

Back in the day, when I was barely into my twenties and carving out a niche for myself in journalism, I got the incredible opportunity to dine with Schifrin, the legendary composer who passed away recently at 93, at one of his favorite spots in Beverly Hills. This meeting, spanning over three decades ago, remains etched in my memory as one of the most remarkable encounters I’ve ever had with a creative genius like him.

Sharing similar backgrounds, we were both Argentine immigrants residing in Los Angeles. Similar to my father, who preceded him by three years, Schifrin was the offspring of a Jewish father and a Catholic mother. Additionally, our common ground extended to an all-encompassing love for various genres of music, including classical, tango, and jazz. It was evident back then that Schifrin had performed as the pianist in the legendary groups of two influential figures from the 20th century: Astor Piazzolla and Dizzy Gillespie.

From the tender age of seven, I developed an ardent fondness for his soundtrack music. Often, I would borrow my older sibling’s copy of the Mission: Impossible soundtrack, playing it repeatedly on my single-speaker record player.

During that period, I stumbled upon a soothing, perpetually wistful soundscape that would shape my teenage years and eventually motivate me to pursue a career in music journalism: the jazz-influenced, bossa nova-compatible realm of Schifrin, Burt Bacharach, John Barry, and Henry Mancini. This musical universe stirred within me a deep longing for landscapes I hadn’t experienced yet but could visualize clearly in my mind’s eye. At night, I would hum Mancini’s “Hatari” theme as I tried to drift off to sleep, while during car rides to the movies across the cobblestone streets of Buenos Aires suburbs, I listened to the Carpenters’ radiant “Bacharach Medley” on my father’s cassette player.

When I shared with Schifrin my enthusiasm for the “Mission: Impossible” album and my favorite song within it, titled “Cinnamon,” which floats gracefully while transitioning between its ethereal melody and a jazz improvisation, and “Danger,” an evocative theme that evokes images of weary spies in European cafes, he returned a warm smile. In later years, I found myself drawn to bands whose music bore strong influences from his compositions, such as Saint Etienne, Swing Out Sister, Portishead, and Pizzicato Five.

Regardless of the number of times I prompted him, Schifrin always kept his method for crafting such universally cosmopolitan and harmoniously complex music a secret.

He’d often remark, ‘It’s up to you to decipher that.’ He never premeditated his work; it’s beyond his abilities. Music, after all, transcends the need for words or explanations – it speaks to everyone in its own language.

Regarding stylistic limits, none were present. I had witnessed Schifrin conducting Beethoven’s 6th in Buenos Aires and kept track of his prolific work within the classical realm as the music director of the now-dissolved Glendale Symphony Orchestra. Additionally, I acquired albums he produced on his own label, Aleph Records — from a radiant “Latin Jazz Suite” to his monumental “Jazz Meets the Symphony” series. Yet, it is his work in creating avant-garde soundtracks, still being reissued in the 21st century, that truly encapsulates his genius. Among Schifrin’s greatest achievements as a film composer — titles such as “The Cincinnati Kid,” “Cool Hand Luke,” “Bullitt” and “The Fox,” to mention a few — are as inspiring as the works of Nino Rota, Ennio Morricone or Michel Legrand.

He reminisced about the times when we were all good friends, as I inquired about musicians similar to Burt Bacharach and Antonio Carlos Jobim. Frequently, we’d gather for lunches. Astor Piazzolla and Brazilian guitarist Luiz Bonfá joined us too. While we were busy with our individual projects, there was still ample time for enjoying life together,” he said.

Recently, I’ve found myself quite captivated by the latter part of “The First Snow Fall” from the Bullitt soundtrack. It’s that point where the soothing melody unexpectedly intensifies, transforming into a heavy, impactful electric piano solo backed by a strong drum rhythm.

He expressed to me over the phone that his focus remains on continuing his work at the age of 86, following his receipt of an honorary Academy Award in 2019. He shared his passion for composing music rather than pursuing Oscars, viewing awards and competitions as secondary aspects in his life. He has no intentions of retiring and feels that his creativity is thriving more than ever. The more he learns, the more he realizes how much there is still to discover.

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2025-07-01 01:25