You embarked at a very young age on a career as a musician and then as a singer, which gave you great satisfaction and enormous success, not only in Italy. What do you carry with you from that period of your life? And how much did it serve you then for the continuation of your career?

I always carry with me the happiness of a fantastic period of success, but also the stress of the tensions, sacrifices and compromises that are the added cost of fame. Of course, studying at the conservatory-first in Venice, then in Milan-was a fundamental support for my career as a soundtrack composer: familiarity with the many expressive forms of classical music was what allowed me to compose without inhibitions for the most diverse genres of films.

In what way was he approached for Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t look now? Was it a natural transition to migrate to the profession of soundtrack composer?

It sounds like press release esotericism, but that’s exactly what happened: one evening in Venice, the film’s Italian co-producer, Ugo Mariotti, seeing me boarding a vaporetto, became convinced that God (or Fate, or whoever) had arranged for me, the “singer” Pino Donaggio, to write the music for the soundtrack. The film actually deals with parapsychology, and perhaps he was very emotionally involved, or perhaps the generally esoteric atmosphere of Venice had particularly affected him… Whatever the cause of his enlightenment, I can only be happy about it because that vision of his marked the beginning of a new career for me. By a rare intersection of circumstances, this happened at the perfect time: it was 1973 and the life of the wandering singer was becoming more and more tiring for me.

The piece was considered by the British Press to be the best soundtrack of the year. Also because of that success he was approached by Brian De Palma for his masterpiece Carrie, resulting in a long and important collaboration. Do you remember the genesis of this soundtrack?

We started from the need to emphasize Carrie’s innocence, hence the idea of a very simple initial theme that, little by little, would gain more and more strength until it reached its climax in the scene of her coronation as queen of the party. The second element was the study of the relationship between mother and daughter, which had to be ambiguous, with an underlying religious connotation: the sonority of the organ is the obvious and usual solution in these cases, but I knew that if I used trombones with a characteristic texture I would achieve the same effect without falling into the trap of the banal, and that is exactly what I did in the scene of Carrie’s return home, the one with the candles. In some scenes, such as the one after the coronation, I devised continuous basses with synth interventions on top: various sounds at intervals to emphasize events and leave room for the special effects (of which there were many).

Did he have carte blanche or did De Palma suggest some advice?

All the music points were chosen by Brian, but in writing I had carte blanche. In the beginning he would give me precise directions; I didn’t have much freedom. We communicated with a translator because I did not know English. Fortunately, on the set of Carrie, the editor spoke Italian very well.

What did you have in mind for the ending, a key part of the film?

For the finale Brian had tried Albinoni’s adagio, unexpectedly crossed with a musical canon by Herrmann. The idea was absolutely winning and so I wrote a theme that developed this concept of violent contrast trusting that it was the right solution. During the screening, I saw George Lucas jump out of his chair in the finale, so I knew I had not been wrong.

By the way, you also composed two songs (“Born to have it” and “I never dreamed someone like you could love someone like me”) for Carrie.

Yes, Brian was looking for some songwriters who could compose them. At that point I proposed myself, he didn’t know I was also a songwriter.

Almost 50 years after the film’s release, what do you think of its work?

Carrie, I believe, contains some of my best suspense tracks: I am particularly pleased with the main theme in which slow strings are balanced by stealthy faster violins and groaning brass, while still the strings play a plaintive melody (particularly during the bucket of blood sequence).

Brian De Palma once said about you in an interview, “You watch the film together, you discuss it, so Pino makes me listen to some musical sketches, or maybe from other writers, so we come to what we want by trial and error.” What is it like working alongside a Maestro like De Palma? And which of the soundtracks he has written for him are you most fond of?

“È difficile ma non impossibile vivere insieme” is the title of an old LP of mine and it defines our relationship like a glove: Brian always felt that I was perfect for his suspense films and said he was enchanted by my work, I, on the other hand, would have liked to confront him in other genres as well, but so be it…anyway, the last word is not yet said! I am attached to all the films made with Brian. In addition to Carrie, there is Dressed to Kill of which I love the symphonic passion of the main theme, a broad melody for strings and woodwinds, which grows progressively in intensity as the other instruments assemble. Of course, I am fond of the museum theme that still runs through classical music programs on the radio in America today. The score of Blow Out is De Palma’s favorite: another love theme also taken up by Tarantino; the highlight is in the scene in which Jack clutches Sally’s body to him, against the backdrop of a sky invaded by fireworks, accompanied only by the dilation of the leitmotif with a solo piano mirroring Jack’s existential anguish.

You have worked with many other important directors, each with their own style: Dario Argento, Joe Dante, Pupi Avati, Tinto Brass, Ruggero Deodato, Sergio Rubini, Claudio Fragasso. Who gave you the most from a professional point of view and with whom was it most enjoyable to work?

They are all excellent directors, and although they are decidedly different authors, it was equally rewarding to work with each one. Perhaps with De Palma there is more complicity: Brian and I have the same way of feeling the music and putting it alongside the images; I then enjoyed working with Joe Dante, whom I remember as a very meticulous person. Claudio Fragasso, besides being a dear friend, is also one of the directors with whom I have collaborated the most, both for TV and film, and I cannot forget that his two Palermo-Milano films earned us a Golden Globe and a David di Donatello nomination. I have fond memories of the music he composed for Trauma and Two Evil Eyes; Dario is a somewhat introverted and shy person, but it was very inspiring to work with him. Tinto… well, Tinto is a character in his own right, we’ve known each other for a long time… I found Così fan tutte to be a daring comedy rather than an erotic film, and it allowed me some classic references that I still enjoy.

Do you prefer a side-by-side collaboration with the director or having total control over your work?

I certainly prefer to work side by side with the director-it helps to avoid last-minute surprises in the recording room.

He has often created music for horror or thriller films. “Terror” in music is a complicated concept. There is always the risk of falling into excess, caricature, ridicule. What do you see as the secrets to effectively translating suspense and thrills to the stave? In horror cinema, all soundtracks contribute above all to constructing terrifying, but also deeply incisive moments. How do you begin to orchestrate them?

I have no real secrets: I always try to make MUSIC and try to avoid the gratuitous effects that many people use for this genre. I always pursue a theme, ideally a gentle and inspired one, and I shy away from sound terrorism, although my orchestrations often grow to the limit to engage and surprise. It may also happen that I entrust an entire score (Patrick comes to mind) to computers, what is essential to me is that we always have an expressive, signifying key, motivated by the relationship with the image, which for me is the central point of the work. Inspiration and orchestration always come from the image, my guide throughout the film: it takes me by the hand and points me to atmospheres. I have no preconceptions about what sound sources to use, what matters to me is that the music is MUSIC.

At the beginning of the work I think the most difficult thing is to find the right key and the most appropriate style. What is your way of working? Do you always start after seeing the images on the screen and then after editing is finished or even just reading a script?

Here in Italy, work usually begins when the film is practically finished, even if the subject is already known; it is at this point that, together with the director, the sequences for which the musical commentary is necessary are chosen. Of course, there are exceptions: sometimes the music is composed earlier, for example, when it is to give depth to the action or when it is an identifying element of the setting or circumstance (a gathering, a dance party, and the like); an example is the opening scene of Up at the Villa with Sean Penn, in which a FoxTrot accompanies the participants at a party. At the opposite end of the spectrum, it can be useful to turn/mount to music that has already been made when there is a need to support or motivate dramatic moments with its unseen presence; this is the case with Pontormo in which director Giovanni Fago requested that it be composed beforehand so that it would always be used during the shooting as an inspirational background for the acting. The American system is generally different: one tends to work from the preliminary stages to ensure a certain creative linearity-De Palma, for example, sends me the script first.

How long does it normally take to make a soundtrack? And, if it changes from film to film, what does it depend on?

Of course, it depends on the circumstances, there is no fixed rule: it can take a couple of months, which is the average time used in almost all my films with De Palma, but as little as two weeks if there is an urgency for the film to come out, as in the case of Piranha. For Passion we took a little over a month.

In recent years there has been a great collaboration with the Rai. He has been the composer of the music for many Italian TV dramas. TV dramas and films for the cinema have completely different technical characteristics completely different. What, on the other hand, changes in the making of the soundtrack?

The writing effort clearly does not change, but the working method does. For films, the music is written piece by piece and is decided together with the director in accordance with the timing of the scenes: it is necessary to take into account exactly the “metrages,” i.e., the times for each sequence. Especially in thrillers it is necessary to pay special attention to the succession of images and the variation of dialogue in dramatic situations, only then can the music achieve the desired effects. For television serials, on the other hand, it is normal to write the score without seeing the images, relying only on the script: there is a predominance of single blocks of music that the music-editor, a figure that has taken hold in Italy as well, has the task of circumstantiating on the scenes, which allows for a certain latitude in the composition; it goes without saying that if I am working for the second, third series of a scripted drama, the thematic material will be that of the first one… I am thinking for example of Don Matteo, which has dominated on the Rai networks for years. A negative aspect, in my opinion absolutely unmotivated, of television production as opposed to film production is the lesser importance that is popularly attached to the former as opposed to the latter. Fortunately, this is an attitude that is changing: if at one time a film might have had a stronger impact and permanence than a TV-movie or a serial, lately technological development has literally brought cinema into everyone’s home and the line between the two mediums is disappearing more and more, so much so that today one MUST make television cinematically as well, and I find myself more and more often applying the film method of work to my television columns as well.

Giorgio Gaslini declared that cinema is the most important school for a musician. Do you agree with this statement of his?

With Gaslini I always agree: he was a great musician for everyone and a great teacher for me. Incidentally, I sang one of his themes in a film called Un amore.

Do you have any regrets about turning down the soundtrack of any movie that later became successful?

Regrets I have only for the films I could not accept because I had other commitments. As always there is an exception. I was approached to compose the soundtrack for Mission, for the music of which violins were required to play a major role. The violin is my instrument, and I knew it would be a great opportunity to write at my best. However, for reasons I still ignore, but probably impressed by the unforgettable music he had written for Once Upon a Time in America, the producers then gave the assignment to Morricone. Too bad, I would have liked it as a project, because in a film like this, with ample room for the development of musical discourse, I would have swum easily.

What director, Italian and otherwise, with whom you have never collaborated, would you have the pleasure of working with?

All names and no names! I have always had the privilege of working with people who loved my music, and that is my only prejudice.