The day the

Do you know which recording of the Goldberg Variations is used in the movie?

Thanks,
Borge

Dear Greg,

This is a fascinating post. Bach is used in a similar way in Steven Soderbergh’s remake of Tarkovsky’s Solaris, and to some extent in the original as well. Early in the Soderbergh film a character named Snow (he later turns out to have been an alien replicant of Snow created by the Solaris ocean) is in his cabin listening to Bach (Gould playing the Goldberg Variations, I think) and presumably reflecting on philosophical questions concerning the essence of humanity. Again, the idea seems to be that “Bach” is somehow shorthand for all that is best in humanity, etc. There is also a scene in an Argentinean film from the 80s called Man Facing Southeast in which a Christ-like alien takes the baton from the conductor at a classical concert and proceeds to lead the orchestra in a rendition of Beethoven’s 9th that is mysteriously transmitted to a group of mentally ill patients at an asylum. The patients respond by dancing and celebrating in a way that would no doubt horrify the more traditionally inclined classical music fan, though you might enjoy it.

Actually, depending upon what exactly is meant by music being a “universal language”, it might make more sense to use Robert Johnson. Tolstoy, for one, would probably have regarded blues and folk music as more likely to “communicate universally” than classical music due to the relative complexity of the latter. And from an anthropological view one might make the case that blues music is likely to work in a wider variety of cultural contexts than classical. I don’t know about extraterrestrials, but the “creature cantina” music in Star Wars sounds more like boogie than baroque to me.

Jay

Your erudition, as always, is a delight. And a big help! I'll very likely be consulting you when I want to go more deeply into all of this. Thanks!

Hi, Greg -

You're entirely right about the 'universality' thing. No music can stand for all of human civilization, not even Bach. (I admit that Bach's Northern Lutheranism and, especially, his utter assurance about the rightness of his world, have always put me off ,but them I am Catholic and, at least ancestrally, Austrian).

It was thought that movies, in the early years of silent films, would be the true universal language, because they did not rely on words but on emotions portrayed onscreen, thus, accessible to all. But of course that wasn't the case. There are always cultural differences in behavior and expression, in the kinds of stories that are told and the reason for telling them from one perpsective rather than another. And then, as you've noted, as time passes, movies 'date' - they are clearly products of their time. Language, manners, clothing, sets, social assumptions - all belong to their own moment. Life does not stand still.

Though, God knows, people try. I attended a concert at the Musikverein the other evening: 80th birthday celebration of Jörg Demus. A solo recital except for the Schubert Fantasia for Four Hands, in which Paul Badura-Skoda - who is the same age - collaborated. This was beautiful music-making (and yes, Demus began with Bach - NOT Glenn Gould's Bach, but warm and lyrical without being overly emotional.

The trouble was, as always for me: Who is listening? I was the guest of a lady of Demus' vintage. Almost everyone in the hall was within hailing distance of Demus' age. They were there to enact a ritual. They dressed well but not ostentatiously, they sat in the upright, polished dark wooden chairs without moving for the entire concert. Of course they applauded at the appropriate moments, and of course there was no embarrassing applause at the 'wrong' time. Demus played his part well; Dignified, with long silver hair, he came out, bowed simply, sat down and played. This was repeated until the end, when there was enough polite enthusiasm to warrant three Chopin encores.

Demus is a lovely person and his playing is very much in the lost manner of late Romanticism. Listening to him, I could understand Brahms' blend of classical restraint and romantic emotion. He was, above all, lyrical and introverted, thoughtful. This audience understood him: they share a common hisory. But that history is passing.

A different sort of musical evening last week: the Advent program at Ruprechtskirche. This is the oldest church in Vienna, certainly one of the smallest and simplest. A standing-room-only crowd assembled before the doors opened. The music was provided by a regional music group, and featured a few instruments - wooden flutes, violin, harp, cello - and singers in their traditional dress. They too were growing old, and so was their audience. (As one of the 'youngsters' there, I happily sat on the floor). There were a couple of young women in the audience, apparently brought by a parent: they expressions signified: This is SO not cool. When can we go to a bar?

I don't want to lose these things: they matter too much to me - but for me, the past is present. It's not, for the general population, who are living their own lives in their own time. But either we must find ways to include them in contemporary life, or wrap them in lavender and put them away.

Demus and Badura-Skoda -- that warms my heart. I wish I'd been there. Like you, I'm part of that culture, and those two have been part of my landscape for more decades than I'd like to count.

And you know…music might not be universal, but there's at least a chance that we all can learn to appreciate each others' touchstones. Let's not forget that classical music has tremendous force and validity, even if not everyone responds as we do. All of us, to some extend, cross cultural boundaries in our tastes, and to me that means that many other people can share our classical taste, even if they don't currently do it. In fact, many already do, without in any way being part of the classical music world.

This is one of the reasons why I'm so unhappy when people begin trumpeting classical music's alleged superiority. Or when people, with the best will in the world, start saying that the world at large needs to be educated in classical music. I see it differently -- only when the classical music world acknowledges the full richness of our multifold culture (musical and otherwise) will we have a chance to attract the audience we're looking for. And to share Demus and Badura-Skoda with them. Thanks for posting this, Suzanne.

I just wanted to add a footnote here. I thought a much more effective use of the Goldberg Variations was in The Silence of the Lambs when Lector is preparing for his escape. It was one of the most memorable parts of the book and they did a great job of conveying the atmosphere in the movie. The slow deliberate yet passionate piano perfectly matched Lector's almost trance-like state waiting to spring into action. A macabre, twisted yet somehow beautiful scene.