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August 25, 2004
TT: Spherewatch
Just because I haven't been blogging doesn't mean I haven't been reading blogs. Here's some of what I gleaned in the past couple of weeks:- David Raksin, Jerry Goldsmith, and Elmer Bernstein, three of the most important film-music composers of the twentieth century, all died recently. I marked their passing by writing a piece that will run in The Wall Street Journal as soon as a hole opens up. In the meantime, Alex Ross posted thoughtful comments on their deaths, which can be found here, here, here, and here. I especially like this one:
"Sounds like a film score" is the put-down of choice for tonal orchestral music. "Serious" composers are supposed to suffer neglect in their lifetimes, with the gratitude of posterity their invisible reward. The my-time-will-come mindset was especially widespread in the twentieth century, with composers believing that if they invented a new sound or came up with a "big idea" they would win their place in history. The result was a great deal of superficially difficult, emotionally disposable music, whose ultimate historical value is now very much in question. By contrast, it seems certain that in a hundred years people will still be talking about Bernard Herrmann's Vertigo, Goldsmith's Chinatown, Raksin's Laura. They have gone down in history, because they found a way to make their music matter.
I like what I said, but I wish I'd said that, too.
- Tobi Tobias was at the Mark Morris performance on which I bailed out at intermission because of exhaustion. In lieu of what I might have written, read what she wrote:
From the start, Morris has gone in for nonconformity when it comes to the bodies he chooses to animate his work. Instead of selecting for uniformity and conventional notions of a physical ideal, he has regularly assembled a miniature motley society of the small, the stocky, the lushly ample, the tall-and-skinny beanpole type, the delicate, the blunt, and, yes, a few whose ballet teachers may have had high hopes of placing in one of those finalists-only classical companies that go by their initials. The flat-footed and those whom the gods of turn-out have not favored have their place with Morris, as do the fresh and frank American girl and the sultry glamour girl (Betty and Veronica, if you will), the beach hero and the fellow into whose face the beach hero kicks the sand. And of course the company has always been multi-ethnic--so thoroughly so that, simply by appearing, it defies tokenism, demonstrating that there are an infinite number of ways to be Caucasian, black, Asian, or a mix thereof....
- Speaking of Mark Morris, guess who has a stalker? Me! If only I knew what she looked like....
- A reader sent me a link to a cool on-line short story which is sort of about one of my all-time favorite actors:
That night I dream about Robert Mitchum. I'm in the middle of the street. Old Tucson or something. And he's walking toward me obscured by this swirling sand. He's also singing. I can make out the words to "Thunder Road." I can see the black cowboy boots but I can't quite make out his bohunky face. He's maybe twenty yards away before the wind begins to die down. And then I see him. It's Mitchum all right, and he's still singing. I can't move. My feet won't obey my brain. I want to run. Because Mitchum is wearing a dress. One of those Gunsmoke Miss Kitty numbers. Ostrich plumes and fishnets. Ultima II Sexxxy Red lipstick on his thick lips. He stops in front of me. A spaghetti western moment. And then he says, "Pucker up."...
- Canadian pianist Angela Hewitt on Canadian pianist Glenn Gould, in TLS:
Sometimes it seems as though I can never get away from him: "Tell me, you are a Canadian pianist, known as a Bach specialist, and winner of the international piano competition held in his memory – what influence did Glenn Gould have on you and were you afraid to be in his shadow?". "No" is always the answer to the latter part of the question. (It is Bach who scares me, not Gould.) As a kid I saw him regularly on Canadian television. "Who's that kook?", I asked my parents. Playing with his nose practically on the keyboard, and always at tempos that even at that age I knew were bizarre, he was clearly recognizable as a serious presence in Canadian musical life, but not, perhaps, one to be closely imitated. I recall a Bach class in the music festival at the Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto (where Gould himself played as a teenager) in which we all had to perform a Two- or Three-part Invention. One boy got up, obviously copying Gould in every respect, right down to the mannerisms. When he didn't win, he complained to the judge, "Why didn't you give me first prize? I played that exactly like Glenn Gould!". The adjudicator answered, "I happen not to like Glenn Gould."...
Read the whole thing here, please. I wish more artists would write pieces like this. Criticism is too important to be left to the critics.
- Something Old, Nothing New on reality TV:
How long will reality shows continue to dominate television? I'd guess that, as with prime-time game shows in the late '50s, the popularity of reality shows will continue until a major scandal. I think that someday, a popular reality show will turn out to have been complely rigged -- not just "staged" to a certain extent, as all reality shows are, but planned out and with the winner decided in advance. I think this will happen because the need to keep viewers tuning in will drive some desperate producer to fix the outcome in favour of a more popular participant, just as Twenty-One did with Charles Van Doren). And if that happens, it might seriously hurt not only that show, but nearly all reality shows. Because - and I know this is a shockingly iconoclastic thing to say - the appeal of reality shows is that they're, well, real. Even if they are "staged" to some extent, with producers encouraging the participants to do this and move here and smile at the camera, we want to believe that the things we see are really happening to real people. If there's ever a reality-show scandal comparable to the game-show scandals, a lot of viewers won't be able to believe that anymore....
I think this is exactly right.
- From ...something slant, new cultural perspectives on "Chopsticks":
At the risk of being branded someone who quibbles context for personally motivated political reasons, though, I hereby submit that "Chopsticks" wasn't originally titled "Chopsticks" but "The Celebrated Chop Waltz," written by 16 year old Euphemia Allen and published in London circa 1877 under the name Arthur de Lulli. The instructions, apparently, were that "the melody be played with both hands held sideways, little fingers down, and the keys struck with a chopping motion." [Think wood. Or karate. Or tomahawk.] Thus chop = hatchet here.
But wait, there's more!...
Once again, read it all.
- Erik's Rants on top-ten lists:
Tyler Green has asked art bloggers to list their ten favorite artists as of the moment of typing them. His list amazed me for the simple reason that he includes four artists from my list along with an artist I completely loathe. I would like to see him talk more about this, but I find it amazing that someone who lists Diebenkorn and Matisse would like Newman....
I know just how he feels. To read a top-ten list by a writer you respect that contains four of your favorites and somebody you despise is a thoroughly disorienting experience--though sometimes in a good way.
Pardon me for repeating myself, but take it away, Hans Keller: "As soon as I detest something I ask myself why I like it."
- Belatedly but not leastly, heartfelt congratulations to Sarah for her new gig as mystery critic of the Baltimore Sun. Speaking as H.L. Mencken's biographer, I believe I can say with absolute authority that she's going to rock.
Posted August 25, 2004 10:45 AM
