BY STEPHANIE ESLAKE FOR LEVEL AND GAIN
A soundtrack must be powerful enough to enhance a narrative, and moving enough manipulate our emotions — whether we’re playing an energised Mario Kart, or watching a mind-blowing piece of cinema.
But what you mightn’t think about is that the soundtrack must also be of a quality so remarkable that it can be taken for granted. And that’s where Amelia Jones comes in.
This soprano, who is classically trained but chose to venture into the world of screen, has been selected to sing for major soundtracks — perhaps for that very reason: through her talent, the listener is able to take the soundworld for granted. We can be entirely and unconditionally immersed in her voice. It sways us to feel — without question. (Yep, it’s really that “crystal clear”.)
The Wales-born, Melbourne-based artist has worked across the games and anime industries in Japan and Australia — not to mention her performances as soloist with major chamber ensembles and choirs.
Some recording highlights include anime Made in Abyss (Best Soundtrack in the 2018 Crunchyroll Anime Awards) and game Hollow Knight (a soundtrack with more than 1 million hits on YouTube).
Here, Amelia talks us through her career — from networking with Japanese producers over a beer, to recording a soundtrack the very day she received the score. (True story.)
Amelia, I’d like to talk about your career so far. Why are you interested in singing on soundtracks?
I’ve always been a little unconventional in terms of musical taste.
As a kid, I used to listen to Metallica’s Enter Sandman every night before bed, I’d be driven to school with Handel’s Messiah playing on the way there, and Led Zeppelin playing on the way home.
When I announced I was going to study classical singing at the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts, my mum remarked: ‘But you don’t even like opera!’. But I’d heard Dido’s lament and I fell in love. Then, I heard Jeff Buckley’s version, and fell in love again. I’ve always been fascinated by interpretation.
I lost my musical identity and confidence for a long time whilst studying: I couldn’t sing Rossini or Puccini, or roll my Rs. I found myself leaning into composers like Faure, Purcell, and Finzi, but was strongly discouraged from using straight tone and natural colours in my voice, resulting in many technical issues. The term ‘wide vibrato’ still haunts me.
It wasn’t until I moved to Melbourne to study at the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music when I realised I was desperately lacking an education in early music and ensemble work. Everything clicked into place when I finally understood that was a huge part of my identity as an artist. I was suddenly singing Monteverdi, Schutz, and Charpentier — and it felt like heaven.
Singing on soundtracks gives me the freedom to interpret music that has never been done before, and that’s exhilarating for me. And to perform music specifically composed for my voice is an absolute honour.
Your background involves so many achievements in the classical music world. Would you describe your soundtrack engagements as a departure from this industry? Why didn’t you pursue a purely ‘classical’ career with your voice?
The way I see it, the two disciplines can exist within absolute harmony of each other.
It’s refreshing to move away from Bach or Byrd, and onto something new and groundbreaking, and then back again.
Forging a career purely as a young artist in the operatic world is absolutely relentless, and I suspect relatively joyless and generally isolating, aside from those rare shining moments on stage. […] For a long time whilst studying, my teachers made me feel like opera was the only option, and to have a career, I’d have to study for years on end — outside of Australia to even gain a chance at a life of contentment and success. I don’t buy it. I love classical music, but as a young artist with ambition, you’re always at the mercy of someone in a position of power with a subjective opinion.
I’m lucky enough to have the opportunity to break away from that whilst still making beautiful music. I’d be crazy not to jump on board.
In 2018, you took part in UnderSCORE, which you’ve described to me as the first symphonic concert featuring music from Australian games composers. How have you found the culture of classical music compared to screen music? Do you think Australia is slow to embrace screen music?
UnderSCORE was pretty special to be a part of: it was a passion project for Fabian Malabello, who worked tirelessly for months in order to get it up and running. The composers flew in from all over the country to hear their works played live, and it felt like we’d achieved something quite momentus; a big step forward. UnderSCORE is likely to be a recurring event, so it’s fantastic that we’ll have a uniquely Australian concert to look forward to.
We still have a long way to go in terms of attitudes toward screen music. I’m fully aware that many classical musicians in Australia view it as a novelty, and inferior to classical music — or at least, that’s what I’ve [gathered] through careless passing comments, which I sometimes have the energy to challenge.
I’ve learnt that this attitude generally stems from a lack of exposure, and blindly succumbing to stereotypes. I was extremely grateful and excited to be involved in the Distant Worlds: Music from Final Fantasy concert [in Australia, 2019): it was thrilling to be a part of an event of such scale and importance, the audience response blew us away.
I walked away from the vocal rehearsal feeling quite defeated at some of the attitudes on display from very established musicians, but it was heartening to see them come around to the experience during the orchestral rehearsal and performance, and realise that screen music is entertaining, engaging, technically challenging, a lot of fun, and brings people together on a huge scale.
Read the full story right here on Level and Gain, a new screen music publication from the creative team behind CutCommon.
Image supplied, credit: Daniele Francesca Martinie.
