Elegance: A Sonic Construction

Hello, hello. We may be running a little behind, but we're still trying to catch up, and there is so much music left to talk about. Today, for instance, we're discussing the long-awaited The Devil Wears Prada.

Released in 2006, the film returns twenty years later with Theodore Shapiro once again behind the score, a composer who has already become something of a favorite on this podcast.

Thinking back, the last time we spoke extensively about Shapiro was in the Severance episode. There, his music invited us to divide ourselves between stability and change. In The Devil Wears Prada, however, the score seems to engage with the concepts and semantic field surrounding elegance.

From the very beginning, one instrument takes center stage in communicating these ideas: the trumpet, accompanied by woodwinds and prominent synthesizers. The trumpet belongs to the brass family, and I immediately think back to one of the deepest discussions we've had about brass instruments—during our episode on Fantastic Four. There, brass was used primarily to convey grandeur and strength. Here, it communicates brilliance and distinction: a kind of line that breaks away from the ordinary in a refined yet spectacular way.

What lies behind this declaration?

If the instrument chosen to express a disruption that simultaneously declares elegance is the trumpet, then I would argue that it unconsciously reveals something deeper within the concept of elegance itself. It suggests that behind elegance there is, inevitably, strength. As though both qualities existed in constant dialogue, intertwined in an endless spiral.

Does elegance require a certain degree of strength? A brief genealogy of the word may help answer that question.

Elegance is commonly understood as “good taste, simplicity, and distinction.” Yet taste itself is a controversial concept. As Pierre Bourdieu argued, taste is shaped through social class, education, and the environments in which we grow up. To a certain extent, it is learned and acquired—collective rather than natural.

Etymologically, the word derives from the Latin verb eligere, meaning to choose or to select. The term combines the prefix e- (“outward”) with legere (“to gather” or “to choose”).

If elegance is the act of choosing, reproducing, and sedimenting ideas over time, then it indeed requires enormous strength—not merely to sustain a style, but to sustain an entire set of sociohistorical ideas and propositions that continue to evolve across generations.

Quite a thought, isn't it?

Seen in this way, the trumpet becomes an appropriate instrument through which to express all of this. The composer's logic—even if unconscious—begins to make sense.

There is another element in the score, specifically in the track Dream Closet, that seems to echo this proposal. We hear a series of snapping sounds. If these are produced by the human body, we might even venture to suggest that the “dream closet” must somehow be supported and approved by multiple voices. (Satire? A joke? Perhaps.)

Moving forward through the soundtrack, another characteristic becomes apparent. The film emphasizes the international nature of fashion itself. As a result, we move through different locations, and the music helps define how those places look, feel, and how we orient ourselves within them.

For example, the track The Last Supper transports us to Milan. Here, the harp plays a central role, and I say the form of the harp because beyond its recognizable sound, its very shape seems to converse with the film's ideas in an interesting way.

The calmness associated with the instrument seeks to transport the audience, alongside the visual imagery, to another era—something we might describe as classical, sacred, or timeless.

The slow tempos, complemented by the flute, create a sense of tranquility that dominates the piece. It is a tranquility rooted in what has historically been valued as the infinite. As if it still possessed validity and an unmistakable form—like the sound of the harp itself. As if it represented something capable of transcending space and time.

Something that remains.

Like the harp, permanence emerges as an exceptional state. Interestingly, this aligns with the composer's intention: to express something that exists beyond time itself.

The piece suddenly shifts into a texture composed of strings and electronics before returning to its original state. Milan is therefore imagined as a space where permanence reveals itself while change remains in dialogue with it.

As we move toward the end of the film, we encounter the track Lava, which reprises the opening trumpet motif. The result is a cycle carefully shaped by the movements of the narrative.

Yet there is something that troubles me. I rarely say this, but I found myself somewhat disappointed by the ending. To me, Shapiro concludes with a series of "happy ending" clichés. What do you think?

What determines our tendency to associate certain melodies with happy endings? Ascending melodies. Major tonalities. Bright orchestration.

Perhaps that is why the ending feels slightly unsettling to me. After constructing such complex musical ideas around elegance, power, and permanence, Shapiro ultimately retreats into sounds we immediately recognize as everything turned out fine.

And yet, even this is interesting. I prefer to think of it as something beyond merely relying on convention. Instead, I see it as an expression of how music also reproduces cultural agreements regarding what a victory, a correct decision, or a satisfying resolution should sound and feel like.

And perhaps, in the end, The Devil Wears Prada was never only about fashion. Pay attention to that. Pay attention to the music.

I'm Dalila Flores, and this was Notas en Frame. ✨