Daniel Blumberg never imagined himself composing for film. That only changed after he crossed paths with director Brady Corbet, a meeting that grew into a close friendship and an ongoing creative partnership rooted in their mutual obsession with music and cinema. Today, the English composer is widely recognised for his Oscar-winning work on Corbet’s The Brutalist, yet his artistic foundations, as he recently explained to Corbet during a phone conversation, trace back to a band he played in during his school years which he prefers not to name and later evolved through countless nights spent absorbing experimental sounds at London’s legendary Cafe Oto. It felt inevitable, then, that Corbet’s wife, filmmaker Mona Fastvold, would turn to Blumberg again to shape the driving and immersive score for The Testament of Ann Lee, her ambitious musical drama centred on the Shakers movement and its magnetic leader Ann Lee, portrayed by Amanda Seyfried. Once more, Blumberg rises to the challenge, creating a sound world that feels layered, uncanny and true to its period, perfectly mirroring Fastvold’s exploration of faith, collective life, ambition and gender balance. So what is his secret to sustaining this level of work? Corbet likens it to his own view of Japanese cuisine: “It’s four ingredients, and yet those four ingredients are reinvented time and again in very, very nuanced ways.” In the discussion below, the longtime collaborators open up about books, London and how cinema finds its voice.—CHARLOTTE ZAGER

BRADY CORBET: Hey, DB. Where are you? You’re in L.A. still, right?

DANIEL BLUMBERG: Yeah.

CORBET: Oh, it’s early for you.

BLUMBERG: [Laughs] I just woke up. I’ve been sleeping so crazy. We watched 15 minutes of [Rainer Werner] Fassbinder and fell asleep—Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. It’s a good one. I haven’t watched it in ages. It’s the best.

CORBET: It is the best.

BLUMBERG: We should do this more often.

CORBET: Well, I’m going to do my best. I haven’t prepared anything, so we’re going to see how it goes. There are a few things I obviously already know, but I think it’s probably helpful for readers to quickly contextualize. I know you had your band when you were a teenager, but how long have you been playing? Since you were a kid?

BLUMBERG: Yeah, but when I was a child, I was just trying to learn the clarinet and piano and I wasn’t very good at it. I was always in the orchestra, trying to read the sheet music at school, and I couldn’t do it. So I only really started when I was 15, when I got asked to be in a band.

CORBET: Were you primarily playing piano or guitar or both?

BLUMBERG: I was just singing.

CORBET: Oh, you were just singing?

BLUMBERG: Yeah. I ended up playing guitar because we were recording at Edwyn Collins’ studio—you know, Orange Juice, “Never Met a Girl Like You Before.” It was his studio, and he had this massive collection of vintage guitars. And that made me want to play guitar.

CORBET: Who else in your family is musical?

BLUMBERG: My brother and sister are really musical, but my parents didn’t really play music. Did you play music?

CORBET: No, I played guitar poorly growing up. My grandfather played piano and tried to teach me as a kid, but I really didn’t have a knack for it. Ada [Fastvold-Corbet, Corbet’s daughter]’s starting to really hold her own because she’s been doing lessons now for the last four months.

BLUMBERG: Oh, shit. Really?

CORBET: She’s been doing it once a week with your keyboard—the one you were working on Ann Lee with in the office.

BLUMBERG: I think you and Mona are really very, very musical. I mean, in different ways, but you’re very fluent in music without playing it.

CORBET: I should play in the second half of my life. I don’t have enough stuff on my plate. [Laughs]

BLUMBERG: [Laughs] Yeah, exactly.

CORBET: If we jump past the teenage years, when did you go to Cafe OTO for the first time? Was that 12 years ago, 13 years ago?

BLUMBERG: It was when I was 21, I think. So yeah, about 13, 14 years ago. 

CORBET: You took me there 11 years ago and you’d already been playing there for years, no?

BLUMBERG: Yeah, I have these three weird moments in my life that were really profound creatively. One was reading [Vladimir] Nabokov for the first time.

CORBET: Me too. That’s why my daughter’s named Ada.

BLUMBERG: I thought maybe that was why. The second one was walking into a charity shop when I was 17 and buying [Krzysztof] Kieślowski’s A Short Film About Killing. And then the third one was going into Café OTO, because my friend took me and I saw Keiji Haino play solo.

CORBET: The first show you saw at OTO was Keiji Haino?

BLUMBERG: Yeah.

CORBET: Oh, wow. That’s quite an introduction to the space.

BLUMBERG: Yeah, it was the first time I saw improvised music. And that’s why I always love London, because you can just walk 15 minutes into a different world.

CORBET: That’s what I love about London too.

BLUMBERG: And New York as well, I guess.

CORBET: I mean, they’re two of the only cities I feel like I can really function in. And then, I feel like you and I have been speaking about films and film scores for as long as we’ve known each other, but at what point did you think about actually—

BLUMBERG: Making them?

CORBET: Yeah.

BLUMBERG: I never thought of making film scores, ever. I was introduced to film scores by you, because when I met you, you were making your first film with Scott Walker. We started talking and then haven’t stopped talking. And I remember even just going to visit the set, I thought it would be this really high-pressure environment, but you were chatting about what was going on really calmly. And when you took me to the Scott Walker sessions for the brass—

CORBET: In Chicago.

BLUMBERG: And that was where I met Pete [Walsh], who I worked with for seven years after on every project really, until Ann Lee. So that was my introduction, and I remember the whole process made me think it would be interesting to score films and put the two pieces together: music and film.

Daniel Blumberg

CORBET: Are they entirely separate for you? Because to me, somehow, whether you’re working with Keiji Haino in Japan or working with Mona [Fastvold] or me in New York, it all seems like it comes from the same place. You seem to really enjoy collaborating in that way.

BLUMBERG: Yeah, that’s definitely it. It was really interesting working with Gianfranco [Rosi], because that was someone I hadn’t worked with, but it’s the same thing as getting together with Seymour [Wright], the saxophonist, and working on something together. It’s just the two of you sitting, talking about things, and then sometimes making things. It relates very closely to collaborating in other mediums.

CORBET: Can you just talk to me a little bit about how both projects came together? Let’s maybe start with Gianfranco, because I obviously know more about the process on Ann Lee.

BLUMBERG: I’ve known him for years. We met quite randomly, and the day after I met him, I went and saw Fire at Sea and it was one of my favorite films I’d ever seen.

CORBET: Yeah, it’s a masterpiece.

BLUMBERG: I was just so impressed by it and intrigued by the way he was working. And I love that sort of thin line between documentary and narrative. I loved it with [Werner] Herzog, where there’s a real voice bringing us through these stories. So I just followed his work, and then he called me earlier this year to say that he wanted me to help with music at the end of his film—when the camera goes underwater.

CORBET: Exactly.

BLUMBERG: I was sort of relieved that he wasn’t asking me to do anything score-wise, because I love the fact that his films don’t have a score. But then when I went to Rome to see a cut of it, and we started to talk, I just noticed there was actually sound design in there already at various points, sounds that weren’t diegetic or from his recording setup with his camera and stuff. So I thought there was a space to try some things. And as we started working, more and more opportunities for score came up until it actually spans the whole of the film. It’s very subtle, but it was really interesting doing something so sparse. And it’s really, really different to The Testament of Ann Lee, which is full-on musical numbers and everything.

CORBET: Yeah, it’s hundreds of minutes of music and dense melodies and stuff. And to get to Ann Lee and the vocalists and collaborators that you work with—do you want to just speak to that for a few minutes?

BLUMBERG: Well, I have my drawings as well, which is a big part of the way that I work and a big part of my life. I sit down at a desk and I do a drawing and sometimes it can take 30 seconds, and that is the totality of that. That’s the full work. And one of the things with the scores, I mean, you were making something epic, and I definitely extended myself into this. The score from The Brutalist, and obviously now with Ann Lee, it was these long projects and that kind of scale. And I think that’s something that I’ve really appreciated and learned from you—working on a bigger scale. And it was crazy going on to Ann Lee after The Brutalist because it was a really epic musical project for me in terms of just the amount of people, the amount of singers, just the scale of it.

CORBET: And just the fact that it’s musically driven. I think that it’s a different responsibility to make a musical for a composer than it is to do a more traditional film score. There’s a lot riding on it because you’re part of the narrative thrust of the film. I mean, I suppose you are anyhow, but in a more literal way on this one. And what drove you to bring in Maggie [Nichols] and all these extraordinary vocalists?

BLUMBERG: Well, when I read your and Mona’s script, initially I was thinking about Phil Minton and Maggie Nichols and these two improvisers that I’d always go and see when they’d come and play at OTO. They’re seminal, legendary vocalizers. And I always like looking into the Shakers and their formation. They were praying with singing and their voices, but before they’d written all their hymns. So I was excited about that transformation. And Mona spoke about it really early, how they get from their formation to this really amazing, organized—

CORBET: Songbook. Yeah, exactly. Mona and I talked about it a lot, the fact that it must have begun as something absolutely improvisational until it turned into the songbook of gift songs in the 19th century. But it was an interesting thing because even though some lyrics didn’t come around for another 100 years, some melodies feel like sea shanties and stuff. They feel even more ancient than the 1750s.

BLUMBERG: Mona was encouraging me to approach it like I approached my song records. And with my song records, I always try and distill what the song is into as simple a form as possible so that when the improvisers come, I have the most simple core of what the song is for people to bring themselves to it. Obviously with Mona, she’s so calm and just… It was this massive expanse of work in front of us, but she’s very good at focusing on—

CORBET: Brick by brick. She’s good at that with me, too. 

BLUMBERG: I felt like it was training for our future work as well, because just being alongside Mona on the set or in the sound mix, I was learning about the problems that you encounter as filmmakers.

CORBET: Yeah, that’s interesting. Because on both The Brutalist and on Ann Lee, you’re a lot more embedded in the process of the movie. But I also think that’s the reason that the scores are so accomplished, because they’re so intertwined. I would imagine, as much as possible, that we’ll continue to work that way in the future, because the scores don’t feel grafted onto a finished piece. They’re really inside of the films. And there’s a lot of work in the mix and a lot of work from you, just conceptually, to make sure that that happens. But I think that’s why it’s important that you’re actually on set, because most composers are not.

BLUMBERG: But it comes back to when I started, when Mona invited me to do my first score for The World to Come. And I remember speaking to you—I think it was late in Romania—we were drinking, and I said, “Should I listen to some scores?” And you were like, “No, no. The important thing is you understand the language of cinema.” And that was a big encouragement for me, because trusting the director, trusting the language of what you’re doing, is more important. You create these parameters and then trust the world that you’ve built for that piece of music.

CORBET: Because I know you’re a real cinephile, and we have many of the same favorite films and filmmakers. And just to jump back to something you were talking about a couple of minutes ago, one thing I think is so interesting about the Shakers’ hymns is that inherently they have something in common with a lot of your work and songs. What I love about your records is that, for me, it’s great minimalism. It’s how I feel about Japanese cooking: it’s four ingredients, and yet those four ingredients are reinvented time and again in very, very nuanced ways. So I thought you were sort of uniquely well-poised for this.

BLUMBERG: I remember speaking to you about Minus, because that was a big record for me. It was a bit of a turning point for me as an artist, and that was the first one I did with Pete Walsh, who I met through you. And I remember sending you the lyrics before I’d completely—

CORBET: Yeah, I remember that too.

BLUMBERG: You were saying how much you loved these mantras. And for me, it was because I left songwriting. I left it for five years and just made purely improvised music and then came back to songs. Quite naturally, I just heard a song that just reminded me how powerful songs could be. But I was really thinking of what made me allergic to songs for those years. And one of them was pressing the listener into a really small tunnel and just pushing the lid down, because you’ve got all these words telling you to think this, and then the strings come in, and it’s just pressing the listener down. But I like poetry and films where you can come away reflecting. I mean, the obvious one is [Andrei] Tarkovsky, where you’re left to think your own thoughts as well.

CORBET: They mean different things to you in different periods of your life. I think that the reason I struggle with narrative, and the reason I’ll struggle with songs is that it’s not usually the first thing I listen to. Whenever I’m alone, it’s very rare that I put on a verse-chorus-bridge-verse-chorus track, and it’s simply because I feel like when you’ve seen a narrative film once, or you’ve listened to a song a few times—once you fully metabolize it, once you understand it—it sort of dies. If I’m listening to Mark Hollis or something, the songs are pulled apart in such a way that I always discover something new about them. And that’s something I really feel about your albums since Minus as well. It’s something that you’re really tapped into.

BLUMBERG: There’s something about a chorus—that waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, and then the chorus hits, and that undeniable thing that just switches in your body when the chorus comes in. Trying to find that in our work is something we share, I think.

CORBET: Totally. Well, I’m so sorry, but I have to go on a work call.

BLUMBERG: Can I come?

CORBET: [Laughs] I really wish you could, but I love you, pal. 

I sat down with Madonna at Disney Studios, which seemed like an unlikely setting, while she prepared for her Blond Ambition tour. Still, the location made sense because Disney had produced her newest movie, Dick Tracy, featuring its director, Warren Beatty. Even so, I kept imagining Goofy and Donald suddenly joining her dancers onstage. I stayed to see part of the practice session, where Madonna looked incredible in a Gaultier outfit finished with sharp silver nipples. The songs and choreography were impressive, although the trap doors repeatedly caused problems and forced everyone to perform the same sections several times. Madonna and her choreographer, Vince Paterson, kept the mood light with plenty of humor, even as their determination to get everything perfect began testing their patience.

Later that night, planes were spraying Burbank to control an outbreak of deadly fruit flies. Madonna warned that we needed to leave the area before the chemicals damaged the paint on our vehicles. My rental car was already in poor condition, but Madonna had her Benz to protect, so I tried to keep up with her as she headed toward Hollywood. Following her proved difficult because her driving was every bit as thrilling as her stage performances. Before we reached the restaurant, she became involved in a loud argument with a massive man behind the wheel of an enormous truck after he nearly reversed into her.

After we arrived, she told me, “He called me a dick. That’s the first time anybody ever called me a dick.” I could not help wondering whether the driver realized that the woman he had insulted was Madonna. I also questioned whether his choice of words was somehow connected to Dick Tracy. The answer will probably remain a mystery. What I do know is that spending time with Madonna was genuinely enjoyable. She came across as warm, captivating, and incredibly funny, even while teasing me or questioning me about everything.

GLENN O’BRIEN: The first time we met, I thought you were Black. You had black hair and dreadlocks and a tan.

MADONNA: I had a tan! How unusual. Oh, I think I had been to the Bahamas with Jellybean [Benitez]. That was the second tan in my whole life. Yeah, I came to your house for Thanksgiving dinner with Jean-Michel [Basquiat]…

O’BRIEN: To my dumpy apartment.

MADONNA: I can assure you that my apartment was dumpier. Anyway, I remember being hungry, but you guys just wanted to roll joints. I met your wife at Thanksgiving dinner. We’re always eating together. So let’s talk about your marriage.

O’BRIEN: No, let’s talk about your show.

MADONNA: Let’s not. Today was a horrible day. That was the worst rehearsal.

O’BRIEN: Well, I liked it, but I haven’t seen it when you thought it was good. I loved the number where you’re lying on the piano singing a torch song.

MADONNA: You saw only one segment of the show. I’ve created five different worlds, and the set is all based on hydraulics. One is going down and another is coming up. The world changes completely. I think of it more as a musical than as a rock concert. There is a straightforward Metropolis section, like my “Express Yourself” video—that set with all the gears and machinery; it’s very hard and metallic. That’s the heavy-duty dance music. Then the set changes and it’s like a church. We call it the temple ruins. It’s all these columns, trays of votive candles, a cross. I do “Like a Virgin” on a bed, but we changed the arrangement so it sounds Indian. Then I’m being punished for masturbating on this bed, which is, as you know, what happens. Then we do the more serious, religious-type material—“Like a Prayer,” “Papa Don’t Preach”… Then it changes to what you saw, this Art Deco ’50s-musical set. That’s when we do three songs from Dick Tracy, and then after that we do what I call the camp section. Then it gets really serious again and we go into our Clockwork Orange cabaret set.

Close up of Madonna smoking a cigarette.

O’BRIEN: What’s that?

MADONNA: It’s a very sparse set with a backdrop of an orgy—naked people. The paintings are like Tamara de Lempicka—Cubist-like nudes—no pornography, no genitals. You just see people having fun.

O’BRIEN: How long have you been working on this? It’s so elaborate.

MADONNA: Since September. Designing the stage, hiring people, firing people, hiring more people, designing the costumes with Gaultier, going over the music, changing the arrangements, picking the talent.

O’BRIEN: It’s a big operation.

MADONNA: There are seven dancers, two singers, eight musicians, me, about a zillion tech guys just to take care of the musicians, and then all the crew guys underneath the stage working everything. There are a lot of people. Probably seventy-five to a hundred. And a lot of trucks.

O’BRIEN: I heard you fired yourself today. 

MADONNA: Yeah. It’s a running joke. I fire someone every day, every time something goes wrong. I fire Lenny every day. He’s the guy who opens the trap doors, and he’s always doing it at the wrong time and almost killing me.

O’BRIEN: I was sitting near your dancers; they were really funny. They were talking to your piano player, who had on a new suit. The pants were short, and one of the dancers said, “Your shoes should give a party so your pants can drop on down.”

MADONNA: The dancers are really funny. They keep me going. They’re real pranksters.

O’BRIEN: I love it when they become mermen. You seem to have a thing for merpersons.

MADONNA: Mermen, yeah. I like to switch everything around. People like mermaids; I like mermen. I like the idea of men with tails on. I like the idea of men being the objects of desire, the sirens that entrap women, instead of the other way around. Some people would say that I hate men and that I like to do things to take power away from them, but you don’t have to get that analytical.

O’BRIEN: I don’t think putting men in flimsy, marabou-trimmed negligees is taking power away from them.

MADONNA: I think it’s funny. Anyway, it’s just a takeoff. Do you think it’s offensive?

O’BRIEN: Not at all.

MADONNA: Well, a lot of people would. You’re a really evolved guy. I can assure you that people in Michigan are going to throw tomatoes at me or something because I have guys in fish tails and negligees. But I like wearing men’s suits, and I grab my crotch a lot.

O’BRIEN: But can you even tell if the audience is offended?

MADONNA: No. I just know from feedback afterward. But when I did the MTV Awards and I was smoking, I could hear people booing. I’m sure I offend people when I grab my crotch, but I really don’t care. That’s bound to happen. And I know I offend people with my videos. But I don’t hear it. I just get feedback later.

O’BRIEN: Do you ever get critical mail?

MADONNA: No. People that don’t like me aren’t going to take the time to write to me.

O’BRIEN: Really? I get mail about things I’ve written. Of course, those letters are usually from guys in jail.

MADONNA: I get letters from guys in jail all the time too, but they just want to have a date with me. Most people that don’t like me are people that are fanatically religious.

O’BRIEN: Have you ever been censored?

MADONNA: I get censored all the time. You wouldn’t believe the stuff that I’d like to do that never gets done.

O’BRIEN: But you’ve never had a video rejected.

MADONNA: No, but there was the whole Pepsi thing. They wouldn’t play my commercial because I wouldn’t take my “Like a Prayer” video off the air.

Madonna points at camera wearing top hat.

O’BRIEN: Is that why you’re drinking a Diet Coke right now?

MADONNA: I just like it. I thought MTV might not play my “Vogue” video. You can see my breasts through my dress.

O’BRIEN: Is that really a first? I mean, there are an awful lot of erect nipples under spandex on MTV as it is. I guess as long as you can’t see the dark aureole, or whatever it’s called, that’s OK.

MADONNA: I don’t know. I thought it might get censored.

O’BRIEN: You could put little animated black bars over your nipples, sort of like digital pasties.

MADONNA: Well, every time I do a video they say they’re not going to show it. When I did “Oh, Father,” they said, “We’re not going to show the scene with the lips sewn up.” And I said, “Fuck you.” And then they showed it. In “Express Yourself,” they weren’t going to show me with a chain around my neck. I don’t get their rules. I don’t know what they find offensive. Then I don’t know what’s going to happen with the video of songs I wrote for the Dick Tracy sound track. I had to change lyrics in the songs because the sound track is part of a Disney movie. I had to change things that had anything to do with sodomy, intercourse, or masturbation.

O’BRIEN: Is the movie sexy?

MADONNA: Yeah, but in a really ’50s way. It’s a really clean movie. People kiss, but they don’t have sex or go to the bathroom.

O’BRIEN: So tell us about Breathless Mahoney, your character in Dick Tracy. Do you play yourself?

MADONNA: Glenn! Do I play myself?! No! Am I a cartoon character?!

O’BRIEN: I don’t know anything about Dick Tracy.

MADONNA: No one can ever just play themselves in a movie. That’s ridiculous. Obviously there can be a lot of things in the character that are like you, but you’ve got to be a little bit inventive or imaginative. I mean, there are certain things in the character that I can relate to, but I’m not playing myself, for god’s sake!

O’BRIEN: I’m glad we cleared that up.

MADONNA: Breathless is the queen of the one-liners. She’s always cracking wise. I’m not always that way.

O’BRIEN: Beatty doesn’t have that jaw, does he?

MADONNA: He’s got the jaw he was born with. It’s a pretty nice one.

O’BRIEN: All I remember about Dick Tracy was that he had that right-angle jaw.

MADONNA: Well, Warren didn’t have any prosthetics. Me and Warren and Glenne Headly didn’t have prosthetics. Everybody else did—all the bad people and some of the good people.

O’BRIEN: On the record you play in your show, is Warren singing with you?

MADONNA: Yeah.

O’BRIEN: He’s surprisingly good. How come he never sang before?

MADONNA: Nobody ever asked him. I think he doesn’t think of himself as very musical. But he’s a very good piano player. He wanted to be a concert pianist when he was little.

O’BRIEN: You’re always playing pretty lovable characters. Would you ever want to play a villain?

MADONNA: Yeah, but I’ve never been offered one. It would also be nice to play some unsympathetic characters. God knows, I have my bad side.

O’BRIEN: How about playing a mom?

Madonna crouches wearing all black.

MADONNA: Oh, yeah, sure. I’m down for that. 

O’BRIEN: Are you down for being a mom in real life?

MADONNA: I knew that was the next question.

O’BRIEN: I wasn’t planning it; it just popped into my head.

MADONNA: Yeah. I am. I don’t know when, but I’m down.

O’BRIEN: Who are your heroes?

MADONNA: Mother Theresa. Isn’t Gorbachev a hero?

O’BRIEN: I’d say so.

MADONNA: What about [former President Václav] Havel, from Czechoslovakia? He’s a hero.

O’BRIEN: He’s also totally into Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart. I think he’s put Zappa on the Czech payroll as some kind of cultural consultant.

MADONNA: That’s heroic. But it’s hard to think of heroes, because not a lot of people take risks these days. I’ll probably get in trouble for saying this, but I think those guys in Public Enemy are heroes. They’re not afraid to say things.

O’BRIEN: I think that’s the case with the better rap artists in general. I think they are just about the only people who are really contributing anything on a cultural level these days.

MADONNA: Do you think Spike Lee is a hero?

O’BRIEN: Yeah, I do.

MADONNA: Me too.

O’BRIEN: Do you think how can I push things to the limit?

MADONNA: I’m sort of naturally a pain in the ass. I naturally like to do things that rub people the wrong way. No, that’s wrong. Let me rephrase that. I just like being controversial, I guess. Even that doesn’t sound right. But somehow it happens that way. It’s more like,f “Hey, well, you know how they always say things are this way? Well, they’re not! Or they don’t have to be.”

O’BRIEN: Do you write songs that way?

MADONNA: I’m starting to. Especially on my last album. And when you hear the Dick Tracy sound track, then you’ll know.

O’BRIEN: Is it political?

MADONNA: Yeah. I think my “Express Yourself” video is political too. It depends on what you mean by political. When I think of controversy, I never really think people are going to be half as shocked as they are at what I do. I really couldn’t believe how out of control the whole Pepsi thing got.

O’BRIEN: Maybe that’s just the nature of bureaucracy. They’re a huge multinational corporation with many thousands of stockholders, and you’re an entrepreneur with no stockholders. I was having breakfast this morning next to this record-company goon who was explaining to a management goon about the alternative charts and alternative radio and alternative acts. I thought it was funny that he said Lou Reed and Elvis Costello were alternative acts. I was wondering just where they draw the line. What do you think is alternative music?

MADONNA: I guess it’s music that’s not popular. I mean, alternative to what? I guess it’s supposed to be music that makes you think, as an alternative to music that doesn’t.

O’BRIEN: So what makes Elvis Costello considered alternative?

Close up of Madonna staring at camera, one eye is covered by top hat.

MADONNA: The fact that he’s not popular.

O’BRIEN: He isn’t?

MADONNA: He’s popular in colleges, in a cult way. He’s not popular like Milli Vanilli, right?

O’BRIEN: I guess. I’m not really sure who Milli Vanilli are.

MADONNA: You lie, Glenn! You know who they are!

O’BRIEN: I saw them on MTV once.

MADONNA: Don’t tell me that crap. Look, you know who they are.

O’BRIEN: They have a lot of hair, right?

MADONNA: Do you think I’m going to fall for that? I didn’t say you had to like them, but you know who they are. Now, they are alternative music.

O’BRIEN: Were you ever alternative? Were you ever on the college-radio chart?

MADONNA: I don’t think so. If there’s an underground disco chart, I’ve been on it.

O’BRIEN: OK, what else should we talk about?

MADONNA: Oh, please! You’re the interviewer!

O’BRIEN: People always talk about what they want to talk about anyway. Come on, help me out.

MADONNA: Help you out! Gimme a break! I’ve been working all day, honey.

O’BRIEN: Listen, it’s after midnight New York time.

MADONNA: I’ve been working all day. I’ve been working all week.

O’BRIEN: Why don’t you just tell me some good lies that can be picked up by the tabloids. Tell me about your lesbian affairs.

MADONNA: That’s old tabloid news.

O’BRIEN: It started with the nuns, right?

MADONNA: No way am I saying that. The lesbian stuff is old. I’ll have to lie about something else.

O’BRIEN: How about art? There’s a lot on your art collection in the Vanity Fair article about you. When did you start collecting art?

MADONNA: As soon as I had the bread.

O’BRIEN: What’s the first thing you bought?

MADONNA: A Robert Smithson painting.

O’BRIEN: Really?

MADONNA: You probably don’t even know who that is.

O’BRIEN: Are you kidding? I just didn’t know he did paintings.

MADONNA: The one I have is a beautiful, sort of abstract painting. But you can make out the figure of an angel in it. So I call it my guardian angel. It’s hanging over my bed in New York.

O’BRIEN: Do you believe in guardian angels?

MADONNA: I believe that someone is protecting me. Otherwise, I’d be dead. Otherwise, that guy tonight would have gotten out of his car and beaten the shit out of me. Believe me, it would have happened if I weren’t protected because I can’t resist mouthing off to people when they curse at me. One time a guy did that to me and I said, “Fuck you, motherfucker!” I wasn’t in my car; I was standing on the curb giving directions to my girlfriend. And this guy got out of his car. It was in the Valley. It always happens in the Valley. This big guy got out of his car and walked over to me, and I was thinking, “Oh, my god, he’s going to beat the shit out of me.” I was cowering. And I turned into a person I’ve never been in my life. I said, “I am so sorry! I am truly sorry!” So, I do think someone is protecting me. I don’t know if it’s an angel. It could be the Devil. He could have his own hidden agenda.

Madonna twirling dressed in feathers, her hair sticks up.

O’BRIEN: Do you believe in psychics?

MADONNA: Yeah. I believe that there are real ones and there are fake ones.

O’BRIEN: Do you have any psychic power?

MADONNA: Yeah, I do. I think most sensitive people do. I think a lot of innate psychic power has to do with just being really observant.

O’BRIEN: How does your psychic power show up?

MADONNA: In dreams. Or in knowing when people are going to call, or what people are going to say, or what they are going to do next.

O’BRIEN: Did you ever dream about being an entertainer when you were a kid?

MADONNA: No, I just had dreams about being murdered all the time. The only remotely entertainment-oriented dream I ever had was one where I dreamed I kissed Robert Redford. I was in the sixth grade. And it has not come true.

O’BRIEN: Have you met him?

MADONNA: No. I don’t really want to kiss him. It was weird. I don’t think I ever really had any fixation on him. But the dream was so vivid. I was really turned on.

O’BRIEN: So what sign are you?

MADONNA: Guess. It’s so obvious.

O’BRIEN: Uh. Uh. Uh.

MADONNA: What do I do for a living?

O’BRIEN: Uh, you sing and dance. You entertain people. OK, let’s see…Leo.

MADONNA: Yes. That’s right. Should I guess what sign you are?

O’BRIEN: Yeah. It’s fairly obvious.

MADONNA: Are you a Virgo?

O’BRIEN: No.

MADONNA: It’s obvious?

O’BRIEN: Well, it’s not that hard. Think about when we first met.

MADONNA: I thought you didn’t like me.

O’BRIEN: That happens all the time. I’m awful.

MADONNA: Let’s see. What’s an awful sign? Scorpio?

O’BRIEN: Stop! I’m a Pisces. You were close with Virgo. That’s my opposite sign.

MADONNA: I don’t know that much about Pisces. I’ve never really known any Pisces. What are their characteristics?

O’BRIEN: A lot of writers are Pisces.

MADONNA: Do you have nice feet?

O’BRIEN: No, I have big feet.

MADONNA: Don’t Pisces have nice feet?

O’BRIEN: No, they have influential feet.

MADONNA: Do they have foot fetishes?

O’BRIEN: Some do, I’ve heard. I am attracted by a nice pair of feet.

MADONNA: You know how you have a body spot that’s sensitive or powerful? There’s one for each sign. Mine is my back. I have a great back. It’s beautiful. I can say that.

O’BRIEN: Has there been any astrological pattern to your love life? Do you tend to fall for one certain sign?

MADONNA: Fire signs. I married a Leo. A lot of people in my family are Leos. My mother had a lot of us in the same month. She kept getting pregnant at the same time every year. I had my chart done once. I remember only two things from it. One was that I should eat more cooked vegetables. The other was that I was going to meet an older man who was going to be a great influence on me. And then I met Warren Beatty.

O’BRIEN: Has he been a great influence on you?

Madonna wearing a corset, spreading her legs and cheering.

MADONNA: Yes. But I haven’t been eating many cooked vegetables. I do eat a lot of raw vegetables. How come you use two tape recorders? Are you superstitious?

O’BRIEN: No, I’m really bad at doing interviews. I recently interviewed someone for an hour and a half and the tape recorder was on “play,” not “record.”

MADONNA: He must have been a loser. Who was this person?

O’BRIEN: He’s a professor of popular culture at Notre Dame University.

MADONNA: Snoresville.

O’BRIEN: Not at all. It was very interesting to hear someone speak in complete paragraphs.

MADONNA: I’m not doing that?

O’BRIEN: No, you’re not.

MADONNA: I am so. For instance, the way I’m talking now, I’m just going to keep going on and on in a never-ending sentence and keep going on and on and then put a period on the end of it. Is that a paragraph?

O’BRIEN: No. You have to speak in complete blocks of thought.

MADONNA: I don’t know too many people like that. Warren Beatty is like that. He’s very intellectual.

O’BRIEN: Articulate?

MADONNA: Extremely. He doesn’t talk a lot, but when he does it comes out in paragraphs.

O’BRIEN: Is he a scholar?

MADONNA: I’d say that. He’s a scholar of humanity.

O’BRIEN: And you?

MADONNA: Am I a scholar? No. I’m not a scholar, I’m a sponge. I just soak things up.

O’BRIEN: You just study the videotapes of your rehearsals.

MADONNA: That’s so fucking funny! No, I don’t just study my videotapes. Yeah, yeah. That’s all I study.

O’BRIEN: I know you have a hard job.

MADONNA: I read. I’ll tell you one thing I don’t do: I don’t watch TV.

O’BRIEN: Really?

MADONNA: Never. And I have four televisions. I used to read a lot more than I do now, I’m sorry to say. I just don’t have time. There, I’ve said it again.

O’BRIEN: Well, what do you do on the plane?

MADONNA: I read magazines. I love reading magazines. It’s my vice. Junk. Not like the Enquirer

O’BRIEN: Woman’s Day?

MADONNA: Vogue. Tatler. Details. Spy. The usual. I like Vanity Fair. It’s high-gloss gossip.

O’BRIEN: Don’t you think it’s a little negative?

MADONNA: I guess.

O’BRIEN: Usually Vanity Fair just likes English people or aristocratic felons.

MADONNA: They weren’t mean to me.

O’BRIEN: No, but you’re one of the exceptions.

MADONNA: Maybe because everyone shits on me so much they felt sorry for me.

O’BRIEN: Everybody shits on you so much? Give me a break!

MADONNA: Come on, I get a lot of bad press.

O’BRIEN: You get so much good press.

MADONNA: Yeah, but I get a lot of bad press too. I get ripped to shreds. I’ve got everybody waiting to tear me down.

O’BRIEN: Who gives you bad press? What’s the worst thing anybody ever wrote about you?

MADONNA: You know, I’m a good-for-nothing, no-talent has-been, and they can’t wait until I drop dead.

O’BRIEN: That sounds like the alternative press.

Madonna poses with urinals.

MADONNA: Oh, they hate me. People who listen to Elvis Costello hate me.

O’BRIEN: But do they write lies about you?

MADONNA: Every magazine in the world writes lies about me.

O’BRIEN: What are the biggest lies that have been written about you?

MADONNA: It’s not the big lies, it’s the little tidbits. I read about people that I’m dating that I’ve never met.

O’BRIEN: You should provide your own lies. Maybe there’s something you’d like to tell our readers.

MADONNA: Well, I am really obese right now.

O’BRIEN: Really. How much do you weigh?

MADONNA: I weigh more than Roseanne Barr. Hey, you know what? Vince Paterson, who is choreographing the show now—his mother called him from Florida and said, “Vince, is everything all right?” Vince said, “Yeah, what are you talking about?” She said, “Well, I know you’re working for Madonna now. Is she OK?” He said, “Yeah, she is fine. Why? What’s wrong?” She said, “Well, I just read that she gained fifty pounds and she’s having a really hard time working it off. She can’t do the dance steps…” It’s the silliest stuff. I must have been pregnant three hundred times in the last five years. I was dating Rob Lowe.

O’BRIEN: I was too. Are you the jealous type?

MADONNA: Are you?

O’BRIEN: No.

MADONNA: If your ex-girlfriend was dating someone, you wouldn’t be jealous?

O’BRIEN: I don’t think so.

MADONNA: Lie! Yes, you would! Everybody is.

O’BRIEN: Are you jealous of all your exes if they’re dating somebody?

MADONNA: I have a little twinge of jealousy behind my knee. I secretly want to kill them. You get really territorial over people you spent years of your life with. You don’t want anybody else to have them.

O’BRIEN: Going how far back?

MADONNA: Going as far back as I can remember. I mean, the idea that the first guy I ever slept with, my lover when I was fifteen, is married and has kids really breaks me up. I wonder if he still loves me. He probably does.

O’BRIEN: Maybe you just want to keep them all.

MADONNA: That would be nice.

O’BRIEN: I always used to think that would be ideal.

MADONNA: Do you think anybody would stand for that shit?

O’BRIEN: No, of course not.

MADONNA: But in an ideal world, where you were president, you could make it work that way.

O’BRIEN: I think Donald Trump is campaigning to be president now, carrying on—

MADONNA: With Marla? But he can’t be president if he’s had sex. That’s the rule.

O’BRIEN: No, no. It’s all cyclical. He wants to be like Kennedy, and he has to prove that he’s a womanizer.

MADONNA: It’s not cool to be like Kennedy anymore. Look at Gary Hart.

O’BRIEN: No, Gary Hart just didn’t have it. He didn’t have that aura of power.

MADONNA: You mean Donald Trump is powerful? He’s a wimp. Oh, don’t print that. I want tickets to the next Tyson fight.

O’BRIEN: I do think it’s all cyclical. You go through periods where the country wants a real solid family man, and then you go through periods where the country wants—

MADONNA: A guy with a dick?

O’BRIEN: A potentate. And then he probably gets assassinated.

MADONNA: Ow! But Donald Trump? Isn’t there anyone else? Couldn’t we get someone more handsome?

O’BRIEN: Have you ever considered running for public office?

MADONNA: I think I’ve had a fantasy about it. I’d have to hone up on a few factual things if I did that. Maybe I’m too self-centered. 

O’BRIEN: But there hasn’t been a woman yet.

MADONNA: Give it time. Kim Basinger could become the mayor of that town she bought in Georgia.

O’BRIEN: That could be a conflict of interest.

Madonna bends down and holds breasts.

MADONNA: That’s true.

O’BRIEN: But you don’t have any ambitions like that.

MADONNA: I make jokes sometimes that I’m going to run for president someday.

O’BRIEN: I think that’s a good idea. In fact, I think I thought of that.

MADONNA: That you would run for president?

O’BRIEN: No, that you would. Didn’t I write that once? Didn’t I write Madonna for president once? It sure rings a bell. I think it was my idea. You just have to wait till you’re thirty-five.

MADONNA: What are you writing down?

O’BRIEN: That line that one of your dancers said: “Your shoes should throw a party so your pants can drop on down.”

MADONNA: Is that your head, or did your neck just throw up? Do you want to know my measurements or anything?

O’BRIEN: Yeah. What are they? What size hat do you wear?

MADONNA: I don’t know.

O’BRIEN: OK, what about your other measurements?

MADONNA: Thirty-three, twenty-four, thirty-four.

O’BRIEN: Really?

MADONNA: Pretty good, huh?

O’BRIEN: I guess so. I always thought that ideally there was supposed to be ten inches’ difference.

MADONNA: Thirty-four when I’m having my period.

O’BRIEN: Do you find that all the women you work with have their periods at the same time?

MADONNA: That always happens. It pisses me off.

O’BRIEN: Why?

MADONNA: Because we’re all on the rag at the same time.

O’BRIEN: It’s a tribal thing.

MADONNA: What happens is that it screws things up. If you haven’t been with that group of people for a while, and all of a sudden you’re with them, you start your period earlier. It totally fucks up your cycle.

O’BRIEN: When you yelled at that guy in the car tonight, I think he didn’t recognize you. You seem to be able not to be recognized.

MADONNA: I got recognized about twenty times on the way over there. People just wave.

O’BRIEN: So what’s that like?

MADONNA: It’s good and bad. It means you’ve made it.

O’BRIEN: You must like it. Otherwise you’d wear a hat in the car, right?

MADONNA: Right. Sometimes it bugs me when I’m in a bad mood and I’m thinking and I’m driving my car and I look over and there’s a car full of guys and they start following me wherever I go. That’s a pain in the ass. But I could think of worse things that could happen to me. [Madonna pulls out a large bag of candy.] Do you want a piece of candy?

O’BRIEN: No, thanks.

MADONNA: I love candy, as you can see. I’m a sugar junkie. It’s because I was deprived of love as a child.

O’BRIEN: But you have a big family. Don’t they love you?

MADONNA: Yeah, I’m just kidding. I wasn’t deprived. But I wasn’t allowed to eat candy. That’s really the reason. I’ve been gorging ever since I moved out of the house.

O’BRIEN: Your brother paints Madonnas, right?

MADONNA: He paints religious figures. Religion’s been a major influence in our life.

O’BRIEN: Did you have a super-religious upbringing, or just the average Catholic home?

MADONNA: Super. I wasn’t allowed to wear tampons until I married. My stepmother said it was like intercourse. I wasn’t allowed to wear pants for a really long time.

O’BRIEN: What about your brothers?

MADONNA: You know how religion is. Guys get to do everything. They get to be altar boys. They get to stay out late. Take their shirts off in the summer. They get to pee standing up. They get to fuck a lot of girls and not worry about getting pregnant. Although that doesn’t have anything to do with being religious.

O’BRIEN: Did you ever go through an atheist period?

The letter M in black.

MADONNA: No.

O’BRIEN: You just went from Catholic to pagan.

MADONNA: Do you think I’m a pagan? That means I worship false gods.

O’BRIEN: What gods are false?

MADONNA: That’s the definition of a pagan.

O’BRIEN: That’s the Catholic definition of a pagan. I mean, I believe in the main god, the big one, and I believe in Jesus, but I believe in all the other ones too.

MADONNA: I guess I am a pagan in the eyes of Catholicism.

O’BRIEN: Do people ever ask you out on dates?

MADONNA: All the time. You bet!

O’BRIEN: Besides prisoners from jail. Do you like it?

MADONNA: Sure. It’s flattering.

O’BRIEN: What’s a good pickup line?

MADONNA: “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

O’BRIEN: Does that work?

MADONNA: It depends on what they look like. But I really don’t remember anyone giving me a pickup line. Usually only jerks have pickup lines.

O’BRIEN: In your Vanity Fair article you called Oliver Stone and Andrew Lloyd Webber “fabulous misogynists.” What’s a fabulous misogynist?

MADONNA: I just like putting a nice word with a bad word. It means they’re grand in their misogyny. It’s like calling someone a charming creep.

O’BRIEN: Are there a lot of misogynists in—

MADONNA: In Hollywood? They’re everywhere, babe.

O’BRIEN: Is it as bad as it ever was? No improvement?

MADONNA: It doesn’t seem like it. It seems racism is as bad as it ever was, misogyny is as bad as it ever was, homophobia is as bad as it ever was. You know.

O’BRIEN: You’ve been in business ten years. I’ve been in business twenty years. I think some things have gotten better.

MADONNA: You have a different perspective than I have. You’re older. Like about a couple hundred years.

O’BRIEN: Yeah? I’m not as old as your boyfriend.

MADONNA: No comment.

CONTINUE READING