Issue link: http://digital.copcomm.com/i/1261193
52 I M PS E . O R G for producer Mervyn LeRoy before later appearing in Cecil B. DeMille's Samson and Delilah, and eventually becoming one of Hollywood's best and most beloved music editors. She experienced love affairs and marriages, and the death of her husband, the editor Folmar Blangsted. At the age of 64, she finally met her then-48-year-old daughter, a child she had been told had died at birth. Any time spent with Else was never without humor for very long. She loved to laugh and tell funny, and often bawdy, stories about people she'd known, from DeMille to Charlie Chaplin to Dudley Moore and beyond. She was one of the greatest music editors of all time, an estimation widely shared by the composers, directors, and actors she worked with during her years as Hollywood's preeminent music editor. Quincy Jones once called her his "Bavarian Princess." Robert Redford, in a written tribute delivered when she was the first music editor to be awarded a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Motion Picture Sound Editors, declared that she has "the mind of an artist and the soul of a saint." When she received that award at the age of 88, she danced through the crowd and accepted the honor with the relaxed grace, candor, and humility for which she'd long been revered. "Like everyone else, I did my job, and I did my best. I just did it longer, not better." Else's impact on the many successful music editors she mentored and whose careers she launched will be felt for generations. Escaping Germany in 1937, her first job in Hollywood was as a nanny for the producer Mervyn LeRoy, long before she started working for the studios. Of her time working with Cecil B. DeMille, Else said: "I had a small part in Samson and Delilah. You can see me in the movie—I'm standing behind Hedy Lamarr, and they put this wig on me with blonde curls that made me look like a cocker spaniel. There were 300 extras in this scene who had to start running when Samson pulled down the walls of the temple. I asked DeMille if we could have a rehearsal because I was scared of being trampled. He refused and did the scene. You know anytime you fear something, that is when it will happen—I did get trampled. I got hurt. That was the end of my acting career." Else then apprenticed in the studios and eventually worked her way up to becoming a music editor. Her first work was in TV, but she soon moved into movies and went on to work on countless classic films. Her credits include On Golden Pond, The Great Santini, Ordinary People, The Color Purple, The Goonies, In Cold Blood, Cactus Flower, The Fabulous Baker Boys, The Front, Tootsie, All of Me, A Dry White Season, The Milagro Beanfield War, Children of a Lesser God, A Soldier's Story, Under the Volcano, Racing with the Moon, Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid, Absence of Malice, Goin' South, The Electric Horseman, And Justice for All, Meatballs, Six Weeks, and Fort Apache, The Bronx. And that's just some of what she did. In a 2011 profile by the songwriter, author, and journalist Paul Zollo, Else explained that the role of a music editor has changed immeasurably since the beginning of her career. "It's an entirely different system today. We did everything by hand. No one cuts film anymore. It's all digital. In my day, the music editor was the communicator, ideologically speaking, between the composer and the director." What made Else the "queen of music editors" (according to composer Perry Botkin) was her capacity to communicate candidly with everyone involved, regardless of rank, and to ceaselessly champion the composer. She became the composer's mother figure, cheerleader, and most forthright critic—the ultimate support system. Said Else: "When working on movies, the communication is more domestic than one might think. We connect with strangers the same way we connect with people at home. And that's important: Don't change your language when you talk to people who have more power than you do. Language is just physical. I'm talking about what is interior. If we like ourselves enough, it passes not only for charm, but it makes you less of a liar about your own life. And that truth communicates itself. And I really think I've got that by the short- hairs. Because I will talk to Mr. Redford the same way I talk to you. It's a liberating thing." Of all the composers Else worked with, she became closest with Dave Grusin, who scored hundreds of films. Grusin happily related Else stories, lovingly discussing her propensity for doing yoga in the studio, which she did for decades before it was in vogue, and her eternally unflagging advocacy for the composer's work to be heard. Grusin related Else's relentless refrain: "Let us hear the music!" Else's humor and her love of music had been the constants that carried her through her life, and as a longtime music editor, she couldn't help but select the music she wanted played at her memorial. "God Bless the Child" by Billie Holiday is number one. And I'd also like Randy Newman to be there to perform "You Can Leave Your Hat On." She often proclaimed a desire to live to the age of 100, as her mother had. "And that's enough. One gets tired." Else is survived by two daughters, two grandchildren, and two great- grandchildren. Note: Significant portions of this obituary derive from Paul Zollo's 2011 article, "Else Blangsted: The Queen of Film Music": https://patch.com/california/hollywood/else-blangsted-the-queen-of-film-music-2. Excerpts used with the permission of Mr. Zollo.