

"People can't keep their hands off an Oscar," he says. His awards are hidden away on an upper shelf in his office, except for the Oscar and his four Grammys, which are at home. There is a comfy couch and, behind it, a low stage furnished with a version of a Victorian fainting couch and several sleep-worthy easy chairs. Zimmer works from a keyboard surrounded by five monitors that are connected to computers and servers hidden in an adjoining room. They are tools, he says, that he has used to help film directors he works with to articulate their ideas. The volumes of books include Art Spiegelman's "Maus" and works by Richard Avedon, Carl Jung and William Faulkner-but very little on the subject of music. The design is the result of a midlife crisis when the 53-year-old composer contemplated a return to Europe, but instead hired a pair of French carpenters. Gothic arches in the wood paneling soar over built-in synthesizers and custom bookshelves. His dark office within the studio is known as the "Batcave," but it's more 19th-century European library than 20th-century cavern. Zimmer keeps the small spinning top from "Inception" in his pocket, as a charm. It's a warren of musicians and computer technicians, chock-a-block with posters and mementos from films he has scored: "Rainman," "Hannibal," "The Lion King" (for which he won an Oscar), "The Prince of Egypt." Mr. His studio occupies half a Santa Monica block. Zimmer, referring to the halls of Remote Control Productions, his film-music company. The writing happens when I'm walking in the corridor," says Mr. "The creative process really happens in my head. He conceived of the initial score for "Inception" while sitting on the beach with writer/director Christopher Nolan. There are roughly three scores in "Inception." One is based on Edith Piaf's "La Vie en Rose," with the music stretched out so slowly that it is barely unrecognizable-a nod to the movie's underlying theme of stretching time.

"There might be some dark history there," he says, listening with his ear cocked. Foster's design, but he concedes-as his fingers pick out the score-that some threat associated with the building's history emerged in the music. A spooky-sounding part of the score of "Inception" was inspired by Berlin's Reichstag building-seat of the German government until 1933, and again starting 1999 after it had been renewed by architect Norman Foster. Sometimes, this requires seeking inspiration from afar.
