Documentary Film Scoring with Restraint

Protecting the Emotional Space of the Film

I’m Jack, a UK-based media composer and producer

This project was a unique challenge because the music couldn’t lead, it had to support something already incredibly strong.

The documentary explores an installation by Uram Cho, shown at the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in Seoul South Korea, directed by Michael Beech.

From the outset, there was a clear risk: any sense of musical overstatement would have pulled attention away from the artwork itself. The score needed restraint, sensitivity, and trust.

A Composer’s Role: Enhancing Without Intruding

When I approach projects like this, I think less about adding emotion and more about protecting the emotional space that already exists.

The responsibility of the score is not to decorate the film, but to frame it, to support without intruding, and to leave room for the audience to feel and interpret.

This way of working is especially important in documentary and installation-based films, where the subject matter already carries its own weight.

Digital Systems vs Human Presence

At the heart of this installation is a tension between the digital and the human.

Machines, algorithms, and mechanical movement sit alongside human fragility, vulnerability, and spirit. That contrast became the guiding principle for every musical decision in the film.

Rather than imposing a narrative, the score mirrors that balance, moving carefully between the mechanical and the human.

Building the Score from Simple Elements

The music itself is built from very simple components.

Mechanical field recordings taken directly from the installation provide a non-human rhythm, something functional, repetitive, and impersonal. Digital tones form a Moog synth reinforce a sense of algorithmic motion and system-driven behaviour.

Against that, I added unmistakably human sounds: guitar, cello, and piano. These weren’t used to heighten drama, but to remind us of human presence, touch, and imperfection.

Nothing in the score is complex in isolation.
The complexity comes in knowing what not to add.

Knowing When the Music Has Enough

On projects like this, I cycle through so many musical ideas. But I’m always listening for the moment when the piece/image tells me it’s had enough.

Once that point is reached, adding more doesn’t deepen the work, it weakens it.

This kind of restraint comes from experience, listening, and trust in the material. Often, the strongest musical decision simplify and step back.

Working with Trust and Sensitivity

I love projects with a clear vision, where trust exists between the director, artist, and composer, and where the music serves something larger than itself.

When that trust is there, the work tends to arrive very naturally.

If this work or way of thinking resonates with you, I’d love to talk.