Pinar Toprak: There’s a Lot of Music in Me That Hasn’t Come Out Yet

Pinar, your music often conveys a sense of clarity, even in moments of emotional complexity. Could you describe a moment, perhaps early in your training or career, when you first became conscious of musical "narrative tension" and how to shape it structurally, not just emotionally?

The short answer is kind of learn along the way. We all tend to start writing with a lot more complexity and a lot more notes than is needed because we're young and we feel like we need to show the world all the things we can do, and we tend to overwrite, which is a very common thing with young composers. And as we do more and more, and I can speak for myself in my career, as I worked on films more and more, you start realising how little I can do for the scene and still get the emotion across. It's almost like you take away until you can't take away anything.

Okay, I see.  It's complex to probably process things from one vector to another one…

Absolutely. And it's very film-specific too. Some films do require the complexity and the big bombastic orchestration and all of that. But even in that, I try to be careful of just putting what's needed and not overcrowding it.

And in this matter, how do you distinguish between intuition and technique in your process? I mean, do you find that your first musical instinct is the right one, or is it often just a starting point and then you will dismantle that idea and reconstruct it?

Another good question. It can vary. And a lot of times, the first intuition is the right one because it's the most honest one. But sometimes it's the opposite, where the more time spent with the project, the more I can go back and realise that I want to do that scene better. So, it can vary. But I find that my first instinct is usually pretty close to what it needs to be. 

Therefore, wouldn't it differ too much from the original idea?

Well, it can change because then you have input from the actors, studios, notes and everything. It can always change. But a lot of times, and that is the case with Captain Marvel, that never changed. The way I wrote it, the very first time, it stayed. And in a lot of projects of mine, and especially for what regards themes, once I write them, they tend to stay.

Growing up with exposure to both Turkish and Western musical traditions, do you intuitively layer those dualities, or do you consciously resist certain cultural elements to protect a new score's identity?

In terms of writing Turkish-inspired music, that's very specific. And I tend to work on a lot more American production. There are a few projects that I've had the pleasure of being able to use certain instruments and sounds from my heritage. But a lot of times it's more Western writing. And my background was in classical music and jazz. However, as I got older, and especially after I moved to the US, I got excited by electronic music and the possibilities of that. So, in my writing, I try to incorporate both orchestra and sound design when I can.

You've worked in both massive orchestral contexts and more intimate electronic or hybrid scores. When you're blending acoustic and synthetic elements, how do you ensure that the emotional integrity of each instrument remains intact? Is there a hierarchy of emotional weight among your instrument choices?

Not really, because at the right moment, one simple pad can be all that's needed. It differs from one project to another. It's very specific to what that scene and that moment need. But the way I see it, I don't think about whether I need some particular instruments or an orchestra. In the moment I write, I kind of almost hear it all together. And then it becomes a mission of, “Okay, I'm hearing that sound. How do I get that sound?” Sometimes it comes from a synth source. Sometimes from taking an organic source, sometimes an orchestral one, and processing it. So, it depends. The predominance of the instrument above others comes afterwards. It's not established at the beginning.  A lot of times, it all comes together. When I write something in my head, I already have an idea of how I want that to sound.  But I might achieve that in different ways. Usually, I have an initial idea, and then I tweak along the way. 

You previously mentioned Captain Marvel. In this score, there's a moment when the heroic and personal collide musically. How do you map character transformation in music over time, especially when the narrative arc isn't linear or easily resolvable?

For that film, particularly, I wanted to see her character, because it was important to me as a hybrid heroine. What happens in Hala, when we're in space, that I want to sound different from when she lands on Earth. That was crucial for me. There's a lot more analogue synths, and the approach is very different when she's in Hala. And then as we come down to earth, there's even like some 90s lethal weapons, funk sort of stuff that happens in the score. So, I try to express it in the composition, but then again, we have some flashbacks and other elements along the scene. Thus, it goes back and forth. The music follows the journey of the character. It will also change or modify according to the story.

Many composers talk about “orchestration” as the final colouring step, but your orchestrations often feel intrinsic to the musical identity itself. At what stage in your writing do you begin to hear instrumentation – do you write themes with a timbral identity already attached?

As for the themes, I want to be able to write a theme that can be interpreted with a simple piano or a massive orchestral arrangement. To me, that's a sign of a good tune, a good theme that can transform as the film evolves. So, I write that on a piano first, or sometimes I just sing. I just want to make sure the tune itself is great. And then once I feel good about that theme, the orchestration, a lot of times it comes as I'm writing, I hear already what needs to happen. I'm never like, “oh, I want that line. Should I have that line played by clarinet or this?” I kind of hear it as it comes, and it's just a matter of putting it down. 

Okay. Would you say that piano or vocals probably lead the way or be your first approach? 

When I first write the theme, if it is well written, it should make sense when played on a piano.

I see. Now diving more into your compositional process, what does your notation look like in your original sketches? Are you writing full staves, shorthand motifs, graphic sketches, or something else entirely? And how do these evolve before they enter the DAW or orchestration phase?

Many, many years ago, I used to handwrite a lot more. That doesn't happen that much anymore. Once I have my thematic material and I'm writing the picture, everything gets written into Cubase. I don't go from piano to sketch to Cubase. It goes directly into Cubase. And then I mock it up in very fine detail. Everything is usually in the mock-up. And then I send the MIDI file to my orchestrator, who puts it on paper. And after that, I look through it, because usually I'm a bit of a control freak. So, I make sure that things are done well. Also, because sometimes, when we do mock-ups, we do unrealistic things that are not realistic when played by the orchestra. So, just making sure things are translating properly.

Wonderful! And when talking about your music aesthetic philosophy, it comes clear you have a remarkable ability to evoke a sense of longing without sentimentality...

It's actually my middle name! I'm telling you, my middle name (Özlem) means longing in Turkish.

Oh, I didn't know that. What a coincidence! And you can hear that as a distinct peculiarity in your composition. What is your relationship with silence and restraint in film scoring? Do you ever write pieces and then purposely pare them down in service of emotional ambiguity?

Well, emotional ambiguity is different from sparseness, because you can be ambiguous and busy as well, right? So, they're a little different. But as I said before, I try to put just what is needed, because I feel like a lot of times, when we put more, it distracts us from the story. So just enough. It's like cooking, you need to know when it's enough and you need to stop adding all the spices, and you don't want to oversalt it. Silence is a choice that comes deliberately afterwards, after hearing the whole process. Silence, if you mean in terms of actual silence, I think is crucial, because the absence of music can have as much impact, sometimes even more of an impact than the music. When to start and when to end, this can completely make or break a scene. We must be careful choosing those moments. And sometimes we have a spotting session, and we decide what’s in or out. But when I'm writing, I realise that's not enough. I need a longer tail. I need something, or I need to start just a little before that scene. Finally, it can change, but I think it’s important to spot the project properly.

When listening to your composition, there's often a duality: feminine strength versus vulnerability, resilience versus reflection. Are there emotional colours you feel drawn to, or perhaps ones you resist because they feel too “on-the-nose”?

It’s very project-specific. If I can think of all the projects that I've done, I've treated things differently, depending on what's needed. But if I think in terms of just writing itself, it’s a combination of all my own experiences, both as a person and as a musician, all the things that I've heard, all the things I've studied over the years.

Your works give the listener the impression of living inside the composition itself, to feel in direct and intimate contact with notes, as if you could almost touch them. How do you achieve that patina in your compositions? Is it through orchestral choices, harmonic language, recorded performance imperfections, or something else?

Well, that's a compliment. I appreciate it!  Well, I think that the best pieces of music are the ones that you feel like you might have heard before, but you didn't. I can't describe it, but it's like you find comfort when you listen to it, and it takes you on a journey that you're not quite prepared for. But somehow, where it went is welcome. I think those pieces of music satisfy our soul the most when they're both comforting, but with a little twist that keeps it exciting.

And when you compose, do you perceive yourself as a leading figure or are you more often led by the music and carried on by the composition itself?

I'm led by the film. Ultimately, the film must serve as the leader. The story is the leader. And what I do needs to support it, and not necessarily give it away unless that's the intention.  And just say what's not said. Because we're already hearing the dialogue, we're already seeing what's going on, so the power of music is to bring out what we're supposed to feel, what is unseen.

So, you might, in a sense, complete the visuals? 

Hopefully. Maybe, sometimes it's about not giving away anything, not completing, but continuing the ambiguity. Or in other moments, continuing the suspense. It depends on scene to scene. 

Okay, thank you! In your scores, even the action cues often carry a melodic or harmonic weight that lingers. How do you avoid the trap of writing percussive 'filler' in high-energy scenes? Is rhythm ever narrative for you in and of itself?

It can be. Absolutely. I try to keep things exciting. It could be through using different meters, for example, because the moment we're feeling too much of a groove, I feel like we detach. And it's not unpredictable anymore. And action needs to be unpredictable a little bit. If you're feeling the groove, then you don't feel a possible danger coming. So that defeats the purpose. Therefore, you must have some odd meters here and there or just change something. But I'm a huge ostinato fan. So, finding a cool figure that can carry along with the energy is really important. Sometimes that’s how I compose for those action scenes. That's the first thing I start with: what is the main kind of meat and potatoes of the scene? And then I add around it. 

And talking about collaboration with orchestra, what kind of director do you find brings out your most creative self? Is it someone with a strong musical opinion, or someone who gives you total interpretative freedom? Could you recall a collaboration that radically reshaped your initial musical instincts?

The ones that I enjoyed the most are the ones with a knowledge of music and film music in general, but also open to ideas. Because certain directors are like, “This is what I want to do, and that's it”. And sometimes, if what they want to do works with the film, that can be wonderful, because that saves you a lot of time.  You don't have to try multiple things. But for example, I worked on a film with a wonderful director whom I love very much. His name is Francis Lawrence. He did The Hunger Games and Red Sparrow, and a lot of other stuff. And we did a film called Slumberland.  And I knew already from the first start, he's a huge music fan. He's very knowledgeable. With that said, I knew he had a general vision for what he wanted for the score. But after that conversation, he let me be. And that was wonderful. I knew the general idea of what he wanted to achieve, but I didn't feel confined in a box. So, that was probably one of the loveliest experiences I've had. Also, another film that I had a great experience with was The Lost City. The directors and brothers Adam and Aaron Nee are very knowledgeable about film scores and classical repertoire.  Thus, when we started the film, they sent me a playlist, a Spotify playlist of their inspiration board, so to speak. And as I listened to it, I understood they knew their stuff. And we could talk specifically about specific moments from movie scenes, “Oh, you want this moment from Indiana Jones, that scene?” They knew everything. So that was another lovely experience, because it was exciting to work with film music nerds. I mean, it's not just helpful that they give you some hints on ways to proceed with the composition, but it's also a kind of good collaboration.

How do you personally define musical authorship in a collaborative, commercial medium like film? What makes a score feel ‘yours’ beyond the melodic or stylistic fingerprint?

Usually, I have to make sure that it's as true to myself as a composer as possible. There are certain things that I gravitate towards, there are certain harmonic languages and certain orchestral choices. And all those tiny decisions that we make as I'm writing, they make it feel like something that I'm proud of. And this represents my point of view for that film.

Okay. You've been a trailblazer in many respects – not only as a woman in a historically male-dominated field, but also as someone who has crossed cultural and genre boundaries. Has your identity ever directly informed your harmonic or rhythmic language?

No, I think, because I've had a background in different genres and I genuinely love listening to all genres, but a good version of it, not everything. But I genuinely enjoy a lot of things, and anything that's well-made, I'll kind of download that in my presence. I've always wanted to have a career that spans different genres because that's what's exciting to me. I never want to do just one thing. And I know there are some amazing composers, artists who say, “This is my thing and that's what I'm going to do”.  And that's wonderful to know that this is what you want to do. For me, I always loved one day scoring something hybrid and greedy, and I'm using all my senses. And then the next day, I can do something lush and beautiful, orchestral. Another day, I'm doing comedy or jazz with a big band.  That’s exciting for me. And I think that is my identity. I need flavours in life. Same thing in everything that I do. I need a bit of variety. Otherwise, it gets a little boring. 

Of course! Your inner artistic side can be expressed just through one vector, but it needs and can come out in different ways. I understand. And with advancements in spatial audio, AI-driven sound design, and interactive music, where do you see film music evolving next? Are there new technologies you’re curious to explore, not just for novelty, but as legitimate extensions of your emotional vocabulary?

I think any part of technology can be used to aid human creation. Because if I have a vision to create a certain sound, and if I did that manually, let's say it would take me five hours to do, let's just say, as an example. But there's a tool that can cut down that time. I'm all for it. So, it's all about efficiency. I'm all for efficiency and tools to make the creation faster. But as long as it originates from a human. I think this line has already been crossed in some ways, honestly. And time will tell. When samples were first a thing, everybody was afraid that musicians were going to be replaced. And to be honest, to some extent, they were right. Even though we still work with orchestras, there are a lot of projects that would be done in the box without going to hire an orchestra, which is unfortunate.  So that's one example of why people were afraid. And yes, samples have helped our process very much. But yes, they replaced musicians as well. So, it's difficult to tell where our world is going right now. AI has become a hot topic in the last couple of years, after the COVID pandemic. And every year, AI is increasing at a faster rate. But I hope, whatever happens, humans are involved and/or compensated.

Maybe it wouldn't be possible to substitute at all the human intuition or human approach, mostly about the creation or the composition…

Well, yes. But I mean, I think what gets affected the most is the lower budget and some mid-budget projects. Because you're A-level, I don't foresee a film like Star Wars being composed by AI or something very artifact. Who knows? Maybe it will happen. But I hope not. But this happens more often when we think about lower budget projects, some documentaries or some reality shows and similar productions, which is the heartbreaking part, because that's the start for a lot of composers.  If you don't compose for lower-budget projects, then how is the new generation of composers going to learn and go up in ranks? It's a long, very long topic. 

It is, and thank you so much for clarifying. If I may, I would like to ask you a couple more questions. First, is there a piece you’ve written – perhaps never publicly released – that feels the most honest or vulnerable to you? If so, what about it do you think exposed something you hadn't yet revealed musically?

I do have a few pieces of music. There's something that I have written for The Lost City that I ended up not using in the film because I wrote a few ideas before the film was shot. And now, once the film was shot, I felt it would not fit the film anymore. So, I didn't use it. There are a few pieces of mine that people have never heard of and that feel vulnerable and very pure and honest. And there's more. Something that's on my mind is to write a record of, including some of those pieces and write some more. Just music for music's sake. 

Are you the type of composer who likes to keep all the pieces you write, or sometimes you like to discard everything and start all over? 

For me, every project is a relationship, and I don't want to be reminded of something else in a new relationship with a film. Because I have emotions attached to that film. I have hours and hours worth of music that didn't end up getting used on various projects, whether the cut was different, or the project changed. But still, I remember how I wrote those pieces of music for what scene. So, I have this internal attachment. With that said, I have voice memos on my phone, or sometimes I just doodle, just for the fun of it. And I record. This is a habit from my old days when I used to have a Walkman, and I just put it next to the piano, and I would just keep playing. I do that again, just with my phone’s voice memo. And sometimes I have an hour’s worth of recording. And I remember halfway along the way I did something that I kind of like, and then I'll scroll back to it. I'm like, “Okay, that's actually kind of cool. I should remember that”. The problem is I never do. So, I end up doing something new anyway. 

And is there a common mark, a Pinar signature, for somebody to recognise while listening to all your scores in the movies? 

It's hard for me to say. I know some fans of mine and some friends of mine have told me to tell you that’s me. I don't even know what that is because it's just so ingrained in me. It's just certain, like the way I voice things, I have preferences that I don't even realise that I have those preferences. I don't do it consciously.

Okay Pinar. And finally, if you could write music for a scene that doesn’t yet exist – a scene that would let you express something deeply personal and wordless – what would that scene look like, and how would it sound?

There are a lot of things in me that are on set musically; that's the exciting thing about life, because if you feel like you've said all you have to say in life, that would be pretty boring. I like to think that I’m going to discover something about myself tomorrow that I didn't know before, because if we think we're done and cooked and this is the best we can be, that's death. But I'm a firm believer in constant evolution. I don't know what that scene would be, what that emotion would be, depending on where I am in life. But I do know there is a lot of music in me that hasn't come out yet.