GDC. Day Two.

11:52am. 

“To me, part of the art is really understanding the story… to me, if you boil music down to one element that’s a really important thing when it comes to emotion… it’s tempo! Tempo is what conveys emotion and conveys energy. You find tempo in speech, speech is musical.”

I nod, encouraging him to go on with the thought, doing my best not to interrupt with the thousands of ideas he evokes in my mind as he speaks about his music. We order a couple more cappuccinos and try to concentrate on the conversation… we are becoming drowned out by the shrill cackling of the cafe patrons beside us. I slide the microphone a little closer to him, angling it away from the next table.

An hour passes. I ask him about his experiences composing the Outcast soundtrack, and how they compare to the Watchmen Motion Comic score that he completed earlier this year. I keep asking myself: what is it about music that compels him to compose?

“There is a spirituality with art… it’s sort of like you’re tapping into the divine. There are times when I feel like I’ve come close to it in my compositions.”

My heart flutters a bit as fragments of the Heaven on Adelpha track bubble into my mind. There are moments of his music that border on the sublime, and I tell him that. He humbly thanks me, almost embarrassed that I would mention it. We turn towards the subtleties of compositional techniques – 4/4 to 5/4 time transitions, sustains, and writing for 100 piece orchestras.

I’m getting a crash course in composing from Lennie Moore, video game and film composer. And I’m loving it.

6:17pm.

I am greeted at the door by a blonde woman dressed in a red hood, stitched roughly at the joints with thick black thread. She smiles and bites her lip sensuously, as the tip of her polished black shoe twirls on the concrete.

There is a photograph in her hand. I reach towards it, tentatively. The photograph leaves her hand, falling. The photograph is in my hand. It is a photograph of a young girl dressed in a red hood. It reads: “Robin. Age 9.”

I thank the red hooded woman and walk into the lobby of the Yerba Buena Center of the Arts and encounter a throng of well-dressed folks. I do not recognize any faces, and walk over to the bar, doing my best to fly casual. I spot a man in a suit, wearing a thick but carefully-groomed beard. If it were not for his slender build, I would think him Amish or Mennonite. Someone cracks a joke and he throws his head back, laughing wildly. Definitely not Amish.

He is standing at the top of a curved staircase, and waves at everyone: “Come up here! It begins soon!” His accent is subtle, smooth.

We follow him up the stairs into a small theatre, seated for 100 people or so. A stunning woman with braided hair walks to the stage.

“As you can see, I’m a bit nervous.” She laughs, relieving the tension.

She introduces herself as Auriea Harvey, and welcomes the bearded man to the stage, introducing him as Michäel Samyn. She introduces their newest creation, The Path, and welcomes us to the launch party. The Tale of Tales team introduces each of the six characters of the game in six short stories.

The lights dim, and a young girl with a slight limp appears on the screen. She wanders off the path and into the dark forest. I am mesmerized — my heart pounds as I anticipate some nameless horror. I am not afraid – but I am fearful.

There is a polaroid photograph of a nine-year-old girl named Robin in my hand. I am sitting in a theatre, watching Tale of Tales graciously demo The Path.  And I am loving it.

This is the GDC.