Denise Santos on the Pursuit of a Career in Composing

Denise Santos is currently nominated for a Daytime Emmy. With her co-writer Laurentia Editha, she’ll potentially win the award for Outstanding Music Composition and Direction.

But this isn’t her first nomination. She’s won before.

In 2021, at the 42nd Annual News & Documentary Emmy Awards, Denise and her writing partner Adam Lukas won the award for Outstanding Music Composition – their work in BBC documentary Primates garnering them the win.

“I really don’t give myself a lot of credit for the success of those Emmys,” says Denise. “I feel like I wouldn’t have gotten that if not for Bleeding Fingers.” Bleeding Fingers is an in-demand composer collective founded by multi-awarded film scorer and record producer Hans Zimmer. Up until July 2022, the collective was a home for Denise where as a composer she would weave layers of depth out of sound into fabrics built by directors – using conversations with these directors to arrive at a desired feel for what’s appearing on the screen.

While Denise is still in the depth-building business, she’s striking out on her own – engaging with her creative practice on her own terms. ‘When I was in Bleeding Fingers, work was being given to me,” she says, “and it was like non-stop work.” She stopped what she called the “intentional search”. “I stopped going out. I stopped finding new creative people to just hang out with. I was in my bubble. Now, I have this opportunity to finally […] feel like I’m re visiting the freelancer in me from 2010 and I’m just enjoying it a lot.”

On the face of it, Denise’s journey reads like a cycle occurring along a steady ascent—arriving at a career in a unique pocket of the music industry—but hers is another expression of life lived through massive changes, difficult decisions, and risk.

Seeking Out Change and The Power of Presence

A difficulty with exiting a schooling system is the loss of a system. Tomorrow’s problem is likely an exam; next year’s problem, graduating. Out in the wild, the whole world with its infinite channels is grey with possibilities. Fortunately and unfortunately, the onus then of changing our circumstances is largely on our own shoulders.

Denise wanted to get back into music. But doing something about that is the tricky part—recognising the weight of responsibility with an action. “It was a very slow process”, she says. And it kicked off with Denise working in a radio station, iFM 93.9. 

Denise didn’t know how to produce yet, but there was real value in just being surrounded by people with ambitions and creative practices aligned with her own. “I was doing sales and marketing,” she says, “but at least I was surrounded by music [and] creatives. I had a blast just hanging out with the DJs […] and just listening and seeing how creative they could be.” With an office right next to the DJ booth, she was eventually taught how to wield some of the tools of the trade, one of which was FruityLoops (now called FL Studio)—a digital audio workstation.

Seeking out change with a strong chord of thriftiness – which continues to drive many of the events in Denise’s music career – Denise began taking lessons on music production while looking for freelance gigs as a composer.

“I did, I’ve done, [and] I am still doing a lot of ala carte studying,” she says. At the time, she took private classes with composer Jimmy Antiporda; later on, she took a professional certificate in music production online through Berklee College of Music. “Sir Jimmy was my introduction on how to use Logic (an audio editing and MIDI sequencing platform) […] and then Berklee was […] more about learning how to mix, learning how to record, learning how to master but it was all still very basic information.”

On the gig-finding side, Denise was equally pro-active. 

“Hey, if you ever need a keyboard sessionist I’m trying to get back to music.” A relaxed but deliberate offer from Denise to Jason, bassist at Hidden Nikki. Looking back on her inclination to work with the contemporary jazz group, Denise says: “I just offered my services. They availed. And […] a few rehearsals later, they asked me to join the band.”

“Little did I know what a challenge that would have been,” says Denise, having mostly been a guitarist in bands prior. To add to the mounting challenge, this wasn’t just some keyboard gig. It was a jazz keyboard gig. “Ignorance is bliss, right?” 

Aside from “[memorising] the shit out of” Hidden Nikki’s chord charts and MP3 files, Denise worked with Kai Honasan in the process of recording the latter’s album and Carlo “Ling” Lava. “[Ling] wrote an album of songs in the style of musical theatre [and] I was one of the keyboardists,” recalls Denise.

This body of work in the country is emblematic of Denise’s willingness to seek out change through challenge, surrounding herself with creatives that draw more creative energy out of her.

I think the best thing you can do is to strive to be better because the work will come. The second piece of advice is to learn or get used to making it known that this is what you do. You’re a musician, you’re a composer, you’re an engineer. That’s the only way you can get work.

Nonong took the CD, gave it a listen, and emailed Denise a few weeks later, the duo grabbed coffee, he offered advice on her weaknesses and strengths, and continues to be a mentor – albeit virtually as Denise is now based in Los Angeles. “He was the one who advised me to study abroad,” she says. Taking the advice, Denise moved to LA to take up a course on Film Scoring at UCLA Extension – but would still prompt Nonong when career, existential, and philosophical questions would arise. “He would […]  give me these nuggets of: ‘just watch more films’, ‘get inspired’, ‘live a life outside of music’, ‘step away from it’.” 

UCLA Extension is designed for working professionals and so Denise had time to pursue interests outside of formal education. “I don’t even think I had a routine,” she says, “but […] during the day, I would work because I maintained my clientele from back home.”

With it in mind that an internship was part of the curriculum of her program, Denise attended what was a field trip to Hans Zimmer’s studio, Bleeding Fingers, in 2016. She found herself the only attendee with a resume handy.

“I was decided, like, ‘I’m gonna work here,’” she recalls. “So we do […] our rounds, and I started kind of like, envisioning a life there. By the end of the tour, I asked the receptionist, ‘hey, where can I apply for an internship?’ And she was like, ‘Oh, you can just leave your resume.’ An email, interview, and offer for a five-week internship followed.

“​​So I did that [for] five weeks,” she says. “A lot of it is throwing trash, cleaning kitchens, loading the dishwasher, unloading a dishwasher, and also taking lunch orders or dinner orders from composers [or engineers] working there.”

Denise’s responsibility in the production–in her words–is enhancing a story or scene through music. “The complexities of it lie in being able to read our collaborators the right way,” she says. “There’s such a wide range of emotions and so many different forms of expressing them, and putting together those nuances with our director’s taste and style is where it gets tricky. Aside from being able to write and produce music, a big part of the job is being a good interpreter and being able to meet your collaborator’s needs.” 

This ability and willingness to listen, of being receptive and sensitive, helps Denise expand her vocabulary in this language of music–as well as refine her use of it in any given work. “Well it’s like any language, right? You listen a lot to the language you’re trying to learn,” says Denise. ”I listen to a lot of scores and I make playlists of genres of scores and I think when I’m at zero, completely lost, I’ll just listen to these playlists that I’ve created and get ideas.“

Rick Rubin, record producer and ​​​​co-founder of Def Jam Recordings, has written about the task of the artist as a way of being in the world – not just of creating. It’s this same consumption of art, accumulating goodness knows where, coupled with whatever staves burnout, that allows artists to create pieces of work that resonate so potently.