Sound

Composer Mychael Danna was in the middle of scoring the first pivotal scene of Ang Lee's "Life of Pi. " The 11-or-so minutes being put to music that early September day were creating quite the challenge for Danna and Lee, who were watching the film, sans digital effects, in a control room adjacent to an 80-plus-member orchestra. Shown again and again on the monitors surrounding Lee and Danna was the moment in which havoc was wreaked upon young Pi Patel as he was set loose on the ocean with a Bengal tiger, the latter of which would be added later via computer effects.

Does anyone remember the days when a soundtrack release offered something of real interest, instead of sounding like a damned K-Tel album? ROBERT E. BUCHTEL Orange

I certainly second Judy Mason's comment (Voices, April 3) on the loud assault on eardrums in the movie theaters. What will it take to make them turn it down? A lawsuit due to the impaired hearing of our younger generation from these thundering decibels of sound, perhaps? PHYLLIS MULLENAUX Rolling Hills I have been writing letters to the movie theaters in Orange County regarding the extremely loud sound. For the last two to three years I have been carrying a set of earplugs in my purse.

I can scarcely believe my eyes. Chris Pasles wrote a 1 1/2-page article (April 16) on the ballet "Billy the Kid" with no mention of the composer, without whose music the work would simply be a bunch of folk tripping around the stage with only the sounds of their feet to accompany them. Mr. Pasles, you are now to write "Aaron Copland" on the blackboard 1,000 times. And after you are done, if you are truly repentant, I grant you this wonderful reward: You may listen to the music.

For a teenage guitar slinger in the 1970s, it was the most coveted of instruments: a Gibson Les Paul. In the hands of Duane Allman, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Pete Townsend and countless others, it defined the hard-rock sound of the day. I had to have one. Trouble was, Les Pauls could cost nearly twice as much as other name-brand electric guitars. Crafted largely by hand and outfitted with hum-bucking pickups that hammered out sound with the effortless power of a Detroit V-8, Les Pauls were built for concert stages, not San Fernando Valley garages.

Three years ago, a suicide bomber changed Ariana Delawari's music career. The singer was on the phone with her mother, Setara, and Afghanistan was coming undone. "It's not looking good here," Setara said from her home in Kabul. An explosion had just destroyed a building a few blocks away. Safe at home in Silver Lake, Ariana, then 27, feared for her parents. But she also feared for her music. Since childhood, she had dreamed of making a record in Afghanistan with local musicians, and she worried that the chance might soon be lost.

CRITICS have rightly lauded the dynamic visuals of "Children of Men," citing the work of director Alfonso Cuaron and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki. In depicting the story's breakneck action through the totalitarianism and decay of 2027 Britain, the filmmakers have created a vision of the not-so-distant future that is both alien and terrifyingly familiar.