Nino Rota

The birth of one destined for greatness

Nino Rota was a man marked by destiny. Born in Milan in 1911, son of the entrepreneur Ercole Rota and the pianist Ernesta Rinaldi, and grandson of the composer Giovanni Rinaldi, he showed extraordinary musical gifts from childhood, gifts that could flourish fully in a family environment where music was ever-present and lived as the very foundation of existence. He studied at the home of Arturo Toscanini in Milan and gave small concerts for the family from the age of four, first for relatives alone, then for increasingly illustrious guests, until in 1922 (at just eleven years old) he composed "L'infanzia di San Giovanni Battista", his first opera, which was actually performed that same year in Milan and the following year in Tourcoing, France, to a highly enthusiastic reception.

Rota was welcomed into academic circles as a new Mozart and was immediately steered toward the finest teachers and conservatories, graduating from the Accademia di Santa Cecilia in 1929, before furthering his studies from 1930 to 1932 in the United States at the Curtis Institute of Music.

The first approach to film music

Everything pointed to a bright future, one that indeed arrived swiftly thanks to the powerful bond his career would forge with cinema, starting in 1933 with the score for Raffaello Matarazzo's film "Treno popolare". His meeting with Federico Fellini in 1952 was one of those encounters that upend a life (in this case, two), sparking a collaboration that could be called an elective affinity (much like, perhaps even more so, the one between Ennio Morricone and Sergio Leone), one that continued throughout the Rimini-born director's career, yielding masterpieces such as the scores for "Lo sceicco bianco", "La dolce vita", "8½", "Amarcord", "Roma" and "Il Casanova di Federico Fellini".

For the Romagna-born director's films, Rota built a unique sonic universe, in which circus melodies, lopsided waltzes and melancholy fanfares became a poetic signature, a commentary and counterpoint to a dreamlike, surreal narrative.

When in 1971 the young and still-unknown director Francis Ford Coppola, then thirty-two years old, contacted him about his new film, Nino Rota was by now a celebrity and almost twice his age. The Milanese composer initially seemed uninterested, and even complained to friends about the persistence of certain American producers and their constant requests. When his friends asked who the director was, he couldn't even recall his name, and when they asked at least for the film's title, he wasn't sure whether it was "Il padre" or "Il padrone". In short, he knew nothing about the project and did not yet take the request remotely seriously. At this point in the conversation, a lady who sensed what they were discussing chimed in, suggesting it must be "Il padrino" (The Godfather), adding that the lead would actually be Marlon Brando, and advising Rota not to dawdle...

Mr. Coppola is a director of great refinement and a very conscientious man

(Nino Rota)

The relationship with Coppola and the genesis of a masterpiece

Nino Rota thus follows the precious advice, though setting very clear conditions for the film studio (Paramount) that seem almost designed to be rejected outright. Among these, the worst is that he would never have to travel to the United States, given his well-known fear of flying. Whatever the reason, it would have to be the Americans who came to Italy. Francis Ford Coppola isn't discouraged: he wants Nino Rota at any cost, above all because he firmly believes in this film, which he sees as the turning point of his career.

The fateful meeting between Rota and Coppola takes place in Rome in August 1971: the two immediately hit it off completely. Coppola, who knows practically the entire body of Rota's work, makes his requests very clear: he wants music that strongly evokes the protagonists' origins, that recalls southern Italy, Sicily in particular, with Mediterranean melodies, and that doesn't necessarily follow the film's action but instead connects with the (tragic) psychology of the characters rather than their deeds.

Rota is pleased with the brief, accepts the challenge, and after several attempts recalls having already written something suitable years earlier. In 1958 he had in fact composed the score for the film "Fortunella", directed by Eduardo De Filippo, a forgotten picture that had never achieved the success it deserved. There was, however, a waltz-time melody that, slowed down and enriched with pathos, could create the atmosphere Coppola was asking for.

A waltz rhythm, usually meant for dancing, imagined for a tragic film about the Italian-American mafia. Unheard of, when you think about it, yet Rota's choice proves extraordinary. "Fortunella"'s small string ensemble is replaced by trumpet, accompanied by mandolin, and the tempo is drastically slowed down. The intro draws on the opening melody of Jean Sibelius's "Prima Sinfonia". From this union comes one of the most celebrated and haunting melodies in film history, "Main Title (The Godfather Waltz)", which fulfills every wish of the director: from the tragic resonance of characters who all seem to be protagonists of a Greek tragedy, to the evocation of their geographic origins.

Yet this melody, varied in tempo or played with different instruments, can also work for very different scenes, whether emphasizing its symphonic side ("The Godfather Finale"), its ties to Sicilian tradition ("Sicilian Pastorale"), or leaning further into the waltz rhythm, almost danceable, with drums, mandolin and oboe ("The Godfather Waltz").

The very same notes that at first create an introduction full of impending tragedy can work just as well for the scenes set in Sicily, from the mandolin of "Apollonia" to the magnificent orchestral blend of strings and woodwinds in "Love Theme", later reinterpreted as "Speak Softly Love" by Andy Williams.

A second melody emerges in "The Pickup", later revisited in the finale of "The New Godfather", a curious composition that in just two minutes combines jazz piano, very low-toned symphonic strings and a cinematic, Hitchcockian ending. "The Halls Of Fear" uses the main melodic thread before introducing repeated percussive piano hits to heighten the tension.

The apotheosis is naturally reached in the grand finale, "The Godfather Finale", where everything comes together in a perfect synthesis. First the orchestra, then the mandolin melody, the entrance of an acoustic guitar, a choir, an oboe, a melodica, and again the melody taken up by a solo violin, before the full orchestra enters and the piece returns to mandolin and melodica. One of the masterpieces of the Rota/Coppola partnership, thanks to the film editing, is the baptism scene ("The Baptism"), where the organ manages to create a dual blend of religious and violent music at once, providing the soundtrack to images of the liturgy for the new godfather's nephew, constantly interrupted by a long string of murders. This duality within a single musical theme embodies, on one hand, the ambiguity of life within mafia families, and on the other, the inescapable fate awaiting the nephew. The same organ notes serve as the glue for a theme that works equally well as religious music for the baptism and as action music to accompany the killings, as if Bach were meeting Morricone for just over a minute. A true triumph for Nino Rota.

Despite this, the production has doubts about the score. Paramount is convinced the music is too sad and sentimental for a gangster film and demands a change. Coppola flatly refuses and asks that Rota not be informed of these demands, fearing the composer might agree to make changes. In a tense meeting with the studio, the director threatens to walk away from the project. Paramount even attempts to replace the director mid-production, but Marlon Brando in turn threatens to quit if that happens. In the end, an agreement is reached, and the result is the album we know today, recorded by the Hollywood Studio Symphony under the direction of maestro Carlo Savina (already chosen several times by Rota to conduct his own music).

The Lost Oscar

In 1973, victory in the Best Original Score category for Nino Rota seems almost certain. Francis Ford Coppola is awarded the Oscar for Best Picture, for a film destined to remain among the absolute masterpieces of cinema history, Marlon Brando wins Best Actor, and Mario Puzo (author of the novel), together with Coppola, wins Best Adapted Screenplay. But as for the score, shortly before the expected triumph, an incredible twist occurs. Just before the ceremony, an anonymous telegram arrives, signed by the "Italian Film Composers", claiming that the music for "The Godfather" is actually a reworking of the score from the 1958 film "Fortunella". Even though the two scores are in fact completely different, under the rules Nino Rota's music has to be disqualified from the award, and his place is taken by John Addison, composer of the soundtrack for the film "Sleuth". Incredibly, the Oscar for Best Original Score ends up going to Charlie Chaplin for the 1952 film "Limelight". A decision that is questionable to say the least, which the committee would justify by recalling that the film had been boycotted in the United States over Chaplin's alleged pro-Communist political leanings and had therefore never been officially released there.

Nino Rota would get his revenge in 1975, when he won the Oscar for "The Godfather Part II", the second chapter of Coppola's saga.

Bibliography

• Between cinema and 20th-century music: the case of Nino Rota. Francesco Lombardi (Olschki, 2000)
• Music for Film. History, Aesthetics, Analysis, Typologies. Sergio Miceli (Ricordi, 2009)
• Nino Rota. The Story of the Wizard Doppio and the Fairy Giglia. Francesco Lombardi (Feltrinelli, 2024)

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

25/05/2025