Composer Dustin O’Halloran builds worlds through music

You’ll know it when you listen to a film score by Dustin O’Halloran. You’ll be moved, swept up in the lilts and valleys of his composition. Most of the time, the score is anchored by a piano melody that pulses throughout the movie it’s soundtracking, but its signature tell is the raw emotion and storytelling embedded in it. There’s longing, hopefulness, and sorrow, and before you know it, there are tears running down your face.

“I’m a bit of a ‘heart is on my sleeve’ composer and am not afraid of that,” he said. “I’m not trying to hide behind any big concepts as well.”

Though his approach sounds simplistic, O’Halloran’s body of work is expansive. The first film he’s worked on was Sofia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette” and since then, he’s composed scores for the movies “Lion,” “The Hate U Give,” “Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy,” and more. He also won an Emmy for his main title theme on the show “Transparent.” Aside from his film and TV work, he has released solo albums and albums with his bands Devics and A Winged Victory for the Sullen.

When we spoke with O’Halloran, he was sitting in his studio in Iceland, with its tall black walls and ceiling, a piano in the foreground, and curtains in the background. The room resembled a personal movie theater for one. To him, composing is a solo affair and you have to be the kind of person who likes to be alone. It works for him.

Here’s our interview with O’Halloran, edited and condensed for clarity.

Growing up, how did music play a role in your life?

I had some very minimal piano lessons. I didn’t do conservatory or anything, but [my teacher] was very encouraging for me to just explore the instrument. Even when I was first learning some simple piano, I was kind of exploring writing in a very simple way and creating sounds with the piano. She was really great at encouraging that. She even let me perform a piece that I wrote on the piano for an early recital. I realized that kind of encouragement is really the seed that gives you the feeling that you can do something and that there’s something to explore.

My first band Devics was a project that I did with singer Sara Lov. We met in our first year of college and that was really the year of learning how to write music, and we were making records, we were touring. I was bringing every crazy influence into the music. Recording has always been a big part of my musical journey. The studio is something that I’ve always understood that you could use it like an instrument. When you hear my 12 Songs playlist, you’ll kind of understand that.

How did you get your start in the music industry? What inspired you to make that jump?

I was talking with a friend about what a different time it was to decide to make music, and decide to make a record, and decide to start a band. There was no internet, there were some magazines. The feelings were very pure. Of course we wanted to connect with people and there was this idea that we wanted people to hear the music, but there wasn’t any big plan other than, let’s try to make something sound really great. Let’s do something really interesting. 

The freedom of the lack of social media in the process of wanting to create music is such a different experience than what people experience now. Because there’s this idea of all the things that you will have, all the things that you want, constantly into your feed. I think it’s a  big influential part—and the desire to be liked. There was a time when we were listening to records and there were certain artists that relished in the fact that very few people would come to see them and that was so cool. And we would go see them and there’s only 10 people here. How awesome is that? You felt special.

When we started, there were records that we just loved and music that was a lifeline. Growing up and experiencing the world, you just want to be part of it. You just want to build these worlds. You would get a record and you would listen to it over and over, the whole record, from start to finish. It was like falling into a different cosmic world or space, depending on what you were listening to. I loved that feeling and you just want to understand how you do that. How do you create a world that somebody can experience? I think it was as simple as that.

Which came first: your film score work or your solo work?

My solo work, for sure. We were recording music in the band and then I started working on these solo piano pieces that I never planned on releasing. It was just me recording them myself and exploring them. Our label Bella Union at the time, I just played it for him and he wanted to release it. I was really, really shy about it. I thought it wasn’t recorded very well and I wasn’t a really great piano player that I just thought it was going to be really awkward if I put it out, but he really loved it. He put it out and that’s actually what got me into the film side of things.

Was your solo piano work a far cry from Devics’ work?

With Devics, I was always putting little bits of piano in there. I started to bring piano more into the later records and I would write these little interlude pieces sometimes. But then when I was just on my own, I just wanted to do something really minimalistic. You don’t know why you do things sometimes. You just do it because they just need to come out.

What is your thought process when you start composing for a movie? Let’s say you get a script first, do you sit in front of a piano and tinker around to see what might work? Or are you thinking through everything in your mind first and then trying to translate that?

When I first started making film scores, I approached it in the same way that I did making a record. I quickly learned through trial and error that making music for yourself and making records is a really different process than making a film score. I had to learn the language of film. I approach it much differently now. I think about the framework of instrumentation and I try to give myself parameters because you’re basically building an emotional world for the film.

When you’re making records, you bring everything into it. There’s no filter, there are no rules. I think it’s nice if you give yourself space. Okay, this is going to be a string score, or this is going to be mainly electronics, or I’m going to work with esoteric instruments like a Cristal Baschet and this strange percussion. Whatever you feel gives the language of the film.

Once I figure out the sound palette, then I’ll get into the compositional part. But now, I like approaching each project with the idea of, “In the last score, I did a lot of piano. I want to do something different now. I want to explore this sound or try horns and see if that’s going to work for this.”

Are there certain elements that you look for when you’re composing for a movie?

I try to always find the subconscious part of the storytelling. There’s a way to score a picture where you’re scoring the action, and then there’s a part of scoring where you’re thinking about the arc of the story and the subconscious part and the part that’s unspoken. This was something that I really learned a lot when we did “Lion.” 

The arc of the story, the subconscious part of the story. That was one of those moments where I felt like I understood something about the language of film and how music works in it. You’re not trying to put the feeling on top of the picture. It’s about, how do you juxtapose it? How do you find what’s not being said by the actors to create this emotional journey that’s happening in music and ultimately subconsciously?

That movie is so emotion-forward, so plot-forward. And there is such a big arc as well. Being able to kind of zoom out and capture that through music is wild. I can’t imagine with a project like that and a story like that, to be able to capture it all musically.

There are a lot of details and lot of thought put into it that I think a lot of people don’t realize. It just hits them emotionally. Themes that we’re using early on that develop later, and sounds that are happening and come back later and connect.

An edit is happening in linear time. You watch it from start to finish. But music can kind of work outside of time in this realm. You’ll hear a piece of music and you’ll start connecting to earlier parts of the film without even realizing it. That’s the power and magic of music to picture. It’s a little bit free of the timeline in some ways. Not to go too esoteric.

It’s the same way when you hear a song and it transports you immediately back to a time in your life. And not just the time, but how you felt. That’s why people want to go see these artists that have been around fo so long, because it brings them to this feeling of when they were young or when they were in love or when they were heartbroken. All of these emotions get brought up and it’s like a time machine. I love that.

How much of the movie do you know about when you first start your work? Where do you step in to contribute?

It really depends how early they think about music. Some directors think about music really early on and I’ll get a script before they’ve filmed. Sometimes the film is almost finished being cut, they will start thinking about music, and then they will get in touch. There’s so many different moments when you can enter a project and it just depends on, if there’s a strong vision for the music or if they haven’t thought about it till they started making the cut.

Is there an example you can give for both instances?

With the film that I just did, Scarlett Johansson’s directorial debut called “Eleanor the Great,” she was a fan of my music and wanted me to do the music for this film. She sent me the script, I loved the script, so I got involved really early. That was the probably the kind of process that’s the best way for me to work and the way that I like to work, where there’s a lot of time. I have time to think about the script, time to write music without seeing any of the film or any images.

With “Like Crazy,” which was one of my first film scores, that one was pretty close to being edited when I first saw it. I went and met the director and watched the edit, and then I jumped in.

What are a few other movies that you scored where you loved the experience?

I loved working on “Transparent.” That was actually a really fun project to work on. Joey Soloway is very generous and gave me a lot of freedom to explore things, and they were very creative.

With “Ammonite,” I really liked working on that film as well. That was a very minimalistic score. The director [Francis Lee] was different from most directors. He’s very unique. He wanted us to create a single piece of music that would play in its entirety at the end. It would play in fragments and variations throughout the film. It was a completely different way of working and I’ve never been able to work that way since. I thought it was a very minimalistic, pure way of thinking about the score. He was such a sensitive director, really into the small intimate details, the sounds, the film itself. I like the hand-touch of things, this handcrafted feel when it’s in the film and music.

My first film experience was working on “Marie Antoinette,” and I just did a few pieces. When I look back on that film and the time that we made it, all the music was made before the cut. And all the music was put to the cut, so we were never making music to the picture. She [director Sofia Coppola] ended up using mostly licensed music, and I wrote a few pieces for the film.

Sofia sent me a lookbook of just photographs and things and just the idea of the story. It was a lot of soft palette color photos of girls because she wanted to capture this early part of [Marie Antoinette’s] life. It was a mix of musicians, nature, clothes. I think pictures she clipped from magazines. I gotta find it. It’s somewhere. I saved it.

I wrote a bunch of music and sent it to her, and then she ended up choosing a few pieces. That was a really cool way to work because it was all from just the feeling. It was all instinct, and you know, sending me pictures of blurry polaroids and lace. I was even thinking about texture.

You’ve scored such a range on different themes. How do you put your spin on things, especially since you capture emotions for characters who are so different?

Part of it is trying to explore something you haven’t explored before, working with instruments that you haven’t used. Kind of build a world for these characters. A lot of it is just instinct. I try to approach everything with an instinctual feel and not overthink it either. I like these elements of surprise when you’re just exploring something and something you just didn’t think could work actually really works.

There was a series that I did that was kind of a spy thriller. It was based on a true story and it happens in two time periods. I started working with some musicians here in Iceland and exploring some weird sounds. It worked really, really well, working with a saxophone and weird percussion. It was one of those experiments that ended up creating this whole interesting space that you can’t put a finger on it. It’s not jazz, it’s not ambient. It just became such a part of the story.

I read in an interview that you have synesthesia. When did you realize you had this?

I thought everybody saw music as colors. I never really thought about it much. When I was working on music, I was always looking for the right colors. I never thought about it until I learned about it. It was just this light bulb moment, like, “Oh my gosh, this is how I’ve experienced music and how I’ve been experiencing music.” It’s such a natural thing for me.

It’s such a big part of the process of how I make music too, thinking about the colors and the combination of colors and how I was to put it together. More than I’m thinking about the notes. I didn’t know there was a word for it.

How does it present itself to you?

It’s like the mind’s eye. Sound is happening in the brain, ultimately. Sound is just firing off whatever this reaction is and your brain is translating color. It’s not like I’m walking around and the world is colors.

I think that’s the interesting part about the experience of sound and music and everything our brain translates in our senses. We hear music in our heads without physical sound waves hitting our ears. It’s the same way. You can see color without physically having light waves hit your retina. It’s an experience that happens in the brain. That’s the best way I can describe it.

When you were scoring movies, were there certain themes of color for each movie?

I love blue. I always work with blues. When I’m working on my own work, it’s pretty much a clean palette, like a blank canvas that I start thinking about and working with. But with film, there’s a whole storytelling element to it. I tend to gravitate towards certain colors that I like, but ultimately, it’s making something fit inside of a story.

I did want to talk about your work outside of movie scores as well. What inspired you to start collaborating with Adam Wiltzie for A Winged Victory for the Sullen?

Well, I was living in Italy at the time and my engineer Francesco Donadello brought me up to see a show in Bologna. [Editor’s note: The show O’Halloran saw was Sparklehorse, which was a band Adam Wiltzie was in]. Through that, Adam heard my music and just sent me a note. I started listening to Stars of the Lid [Editor’s note: This is another one of Adam’s bands] and I moved to Berlin during that time. We had this idea and I was like, “Why don’t you just come over to Berlin? Let’s see what we can do.”

So he came over and we spent a week messing around in the studio, and basically set the foundation for the whole first record. It was one of those moments where I’d been working on my own for a while and we just complemented each other really well.

It just turned into a record and then the record turned into a tour and another record. There was never any big plan. There was just some combination of the way we were working and the results we were getting. It was some of my favorite records. That first record, for some reason, maybe because it’s not just me, but it’s a record I can still listen to. We had no plan and we were just exploring this sound world. We think about music really differently, but we give each other space. It was such a different way for me to work at that time. I’ve been really lucky to be able to make those records with Adam.

Two of your projects that I know of, A Winged Victory for the Sullen and your latest album 1 0 0 1, were created in conjunction with dance productions. What draws you to dance?

My mom was a dance teacher, so dance was always around me. When I really think about it, it’s probably how I was first introduced to classical music. There was always a pianist around and they would play music, and I would ask, “Oh, what is that?” Just seeing the connection of dance with music, I think it’s one of the most beautiful, powerful connections between music and something visual. It’s so organic. I love it.

Your work is very emotional and sometimes heartwrenching. Has it always been that way for you?

I think I’ve always loved slow, heartwrenching music. As I get older, I realized that it’s nice to explore other parts, things other than the tear zone. Ultimately, music that touches you deeply is what I’ve always loved and am attracted to. Something that just cuts through and hits you in this way.

I listen to a lot of different kinds of music and I don’t only listen to that, but maybe what I’m good at is somewhere in that space. I’m a bit of a “my heart is on my sleeve” composer and not being afraid of that. I’m not trying to hide behind any big concepts as well.

That’s a hard question to answer. I think music is like a personal diary in a lot of ways. You’re just putting down where you’re at in your life, what you’re interested in. I feel like my music has evolved over time, but there’s probably a common thread between everything. Maybe I’m not going as far from it as I think I am.

. . .

Here are Dustin O’Halloran’s 12 albums, with a note: “It’s a daunting task to choose only 12, as there are so many records that have influenced me—but here are a few!”

When I first heard this record, it was like entering a secret world that lived outside of reality. I got completely lost in it, and my first guitar hero was born: Robin Guthrie.

This was really my first introduction to jazz, but the record has stayed with me over the years and continues to unfold—with its restrained performances and the depth of its recording. It’s a desert island record.

This is the record that made me rethink how a composition can change your concept of time. It’s a treasure chest of sounds on repeated listens.

A masterpiece of minimalist electronic music. I’ve always been inspired by music that can carry so much emotional weight using so few elements.

Dark, lush, and emotionally saturated. A timeless album I keep coming back to.

When I first discovered this record, very few people had heard it. There are moments when you find a record that not many people know, and it feels like you have something all to yourself. I love the sound of the piano—it’s raw and honest, and you feel like you’re in the room, hearing all the sounds of nature. There’s a freedom and vulnerability in these compositions that is so unique.

This was one of those records that blew a lot of people’s minds—blending electronic music, songwriting, and rock into something that felt immediate, vibrant, and full of shared anxiety about the future.

This record always holds a sacred place for me. Every note is exactly as it should be—nothing more, nothing less. He creates such a strong sense of space with very minimal harmony.

This record plays like a film in some ways, and the string arrangements are incredible. It feels groundbreaking for its time, with close-miked players giving it intimacy, while the orchestra adds expansion and a widescreen feel. Gainsbourg was my gateway to other French composers from that era who deeply influenced my melodic sensibilities.

Morricone’s masterful arrangements and experimentation have always had a huge influence on me. It’s hard to choose just one record, but this one has so many beautiful moments—especially the track “La Spiaggia,” with its repeated motif and counterpoint.

Electronic music has always been a big influence on me, and this record in particular—with its minimalist approach and monochrome feel—cemented my love of early electronic sounds.

Debussy’s compositions have always had a huge impact on me. It’s hard to pick just one record, but the *Préludes* are so full of color and emotion. Claudio Arrau’s touch and the space he gives them are among my favorites. I love his quote: “The music is not in the notes, but in the silence between them.” This always had a profound effect on me.

Listen to all of the records that changed Dustin O’Halloran’s life below.