As per the now antiquated “Summer” post, I have (finally) begun my research for the University of Southern California and I have (finally) updated this blog. Actually, “begun” is a bit of a misapplied term. There is very little of the SURF (Summer Undergraduate Research Fund) money left, and I’m well into the actual research - having seen a handful of performances and having gathered bountiful amounts of data on every show we’ve attended (of course). Unfortunately, all of this busy work has left me with no time to update the blog (Ed. “Oh right, ‘cause seeing Broadway shows everyday and talking about them is SO HARD and time consuming”). By the way, I say “we” because there are two of us: I am, in my own exaggerated (self-deprecating) words, “The Chosen One,” the assistant for esteemed Professor David Román (Google the guy and be amazed). We, as I mentioned before, are studying the cultural politics of the 2008 Broadway season here in Manhattan, and we are doing a fine job of it. I am the best research assistant ever! Hooray for me!
Okay, enough touting. Now, for an entry point. The meat of this post begins, as this blog does mandate, with music. Gee, music is great.
Well, the life of the audio phile continues to be and has always been filled with, well, music. My tastes haven’t changed, fear not, but the focus has shifted during this time on Broadway. I’ve been inundated with the sounds of the American stage songbook, immersed into the culture of the musical, and educated in the compositions of the 2008 B-way season. All good things, but one cannot easily go from a video of the Bowerbirds in a store to parsing the directorial decisions made for this year’s revival of South Pacific. It’s a process – it takes time before one can comfortably discuss Wolf Parade’s newest and Lin-Manuel’s acceptance speech at the Tonys. The juxtaposition of two very different worlds of music might not even sound appealing for some, but admittedly I’ve unearthed an avid appreciation for the theater that was previously dormant. So yes, young hipster, you can: flaunt your taste for The Bake Sale EP, maintain confidence in your masculinity, and sing “Everything’s coming up roses!” without any shame. At least, this is the thesis, and the proof I offer is a recounting of my own experiences, and the proud admission that I am living a happy result. The music of Broadway can in fact be complimented with the eclectic world of today’s alterna/indie scene.
Be warned, this project is also academic in nature. The blog may serve to test-drive various analytical thoughts that my professor and I have discussed concerning certain shows. Criticism, intelligent criticism, will always be upheld, especially here, and I ask for your patience during this journey through Broadway. Still, take comfort in the effort that will be taken to incorporate worthwhile material that caters to my already established musical tastes for which this blog was set up to serve.
Since this is all very new, I begin with a transitional piece. It is relevant to both “The Audio Phile” and the SURF project, making it the entry point I’ve been prepping you for. The following is, at the moment, a prototype for what will hopefully be a regular posting style in regards to these experiences.
A Jazz Performance – this will be the culmination of a day on the SURF work horse.
(Insert the burned mix for June 23, 2008. The whir of the disc spinning hits you just before track one starts to play. 1. “A Day in the Life” – The Beatles) Rain in New York City is most obviously more welcome here than it is in Los Angeles. Here, the weather is understood to be a fluctuating phenomenon, whereas people in L.A. tend to be accustomed to and comfortable with only one type of climate: this is commonly referred to as “perfect weather.” Today, Manhattan showcased environmental conditions analogous to a toddler’s temper. “Scattered thunderstorms” hardly describes the diversity of the weather; humid to dry, back to humid, to breezy, to stale, to pouring, to sunny, to cloudy… This was the backdrop for my first full day in the big apple on our second week of research in the city. (As if tracing the description of the weather, the next song begins to drizzle in. 2. “Some Things Last a Long Time” – Beach House)Through my hotel window, an ominous sky blankets my amazing view of the city. The day began with a shower, some coffee and a bagel, making me feel very New York. Throughout the day there were internet troubles, oranges, press kit calls and emails, the weather channel, an overstuffed backpack, no worthwhile music blog entries on the web, a sandwich with peppers, some walking, and a debilitating stomach ache to end the night. A full day, with intermittent loneliness to be sure, but that’s the nature of being alone in the city. Being with David was great though. (The mood shifts, and an Indie classic steps through the headphones, horns a-blasting. 3. “The Night Is Day Turned Inside Out” – Beulah)
There’s more though. One important aspect of this trip is the archival research. (To match the theme, an aptly titles track cuts in. 4. “Work” – Gang Starr). This takes place at the New York Public Library and the Billy Rose Collection at Lincoln Center. It’s actually kind of fun. It’s a bunch of going through catalogues, going through the bookstacks, requesting files, getting photocopies, and filling out forms. There’s definitely an atmosphere of a job, but each task is also fun. I’ll say this: I learned. (Sticking with the theme: 5. “Wrapped up in Books” – Belle & Sebastian) Over some Starbucks (Professor’s preference), we discussed the week’s task ahead, and embarked to do more research on The Country Girl (Clearly inspired by the word “country,” the author of the mix has cued: 6. “The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth” – Clap Your Hands Say Yeah), which is a play I’ll discuss in more detail later, I’m sure. It is one of the central works for our research. At the library that day we went through production photos of the 1950 premier at the Lyceum Theater starring Paul Kelly, the 1966 revival at City Center, the 1972 stint at the Billy Rose Theater, and the 1984 Off-Broadway production at the Chelsea Playhouse. Most intriguing was the clippings file on The Country Girl containing all the press info archived in the most disorganized and shambled way. The librarians literally hand you a manila folder with fifty year old newspaper clippings falling out of it. Pieces of history could easily be lost to the floor. Praying that hadn’t happened as we looked though the file, we discovered much about the context of each of those aforementioned performances, and we also got a sense of each staging’s critical reception. After a couple hours, with our choice pieces photocopied (The last of the library related tracks follows. 7. “Brainy” – The National), I got ready for the night’s event.
This project is also designed to give me a taste of New York City. My interests are most prominently music related. I have never seen nor been inside, much less heard anyone play: Carnegie Hall. It was the combination of these three factors that lead me to the JVC Jazz festival featuring Herbie Hancock at the renowned Andrew Carnegie Hall. (Continue with relevance. 8. "Jazz (We've Got)” – A Tribe Called Quest)
Before David got the tickets, we had discussed the plan at Starbucks (same one, same time). It was a choice between Mr. Hancock, the famous and critically acclaimed Jazz pianist, and Spring Awakening, the Tony-sweeping alterna-musical of 2007, which David had already seen and which would not pertain to our research. (Foreshadowing a bad decision, the discord of the next track bursts into the sound-scape. 9. “The Wrong Way” – TV on the Radio). The fact is that I had studied Joni Mitchell’s Ladies of the Canyon in David’s class this past semester. Herbie Hancock just won the Grammy for album of the year – Rivers, this latest album of his, solely consisted of Joni Mitchell covers. His stop at Carnegie Hall was part of his tour (“The River of Possibilities”) promoting Rivers. Moreover, David’s research often focuses on what can be referred to as “The American Songbook.” He has written about and studied Joni Mitchell before, and this piece of Joni Mitchell’s legacy that Herbie Hancock has brought into the American spotlight coincided with David’s studies. Indeed, Mr. Hancock’s performance at Carnegie Hall seemed like the perfect thing to do for us.
Thinking that we were going to get a heavy dose of Mitchell (Obviously something of hers is next. 10. “The Conversation” – Joni Mitchell) via the Jazz genius of Hancock, we met in front of the famous doors at Carnegie Hall. Like every other show I’ve attended for this trip, I (poorly) documented the crowds and the venue via camera. This gives one a sense of the audience. What the show is trying to communicate, to whom it is doing the communication, and thee people that choose to actively listen are all pretty important aspects of a performance. In a way, they define the context of and the reason for its existence. The audience is, of course, central to the validation of the act on the stage. Where this audience and this stage fits demographically can say a lot about the piece. David taught me a lot of that. Carnegie Hall and its expensive ticket prices attract a wealthier selection of people. How much they know about Jazz or to what degree they simply wish to participate in the cultu
ral trend is not immediately evident, but one can cynically speculate that the majority know very little and only want to seem informed about the culture. Either way, this was not the raw Jazz audience or the bar scene in the genre’s heyday.
First, the inside of Carnegie Hall is spectacular. I’m sure I bring nothing new to the table when I say that the space is phenomenal in its open aesthetic and pristine sound. After the time spent admiring my surroundings, the Lionel Louke Trio walked onto the rather undecorated stage and opened the show with some Jazz/African guitar tunes and clucking vocals. It was pretty inaccessible stuff, which seemed like a mere showcase for Louke’s talent on his six stringed electric instrument. Clearly technically gifted, every twanged note seemed to come easily. The beats were complex, and the improvisation was rampant. However, it sounded a bit like a pretentious display of ability. Unconventional key shifts and obscure chord progressions occurred so often that the show felt all at once grating and ostentatious… and boring (the only sung “words”
were the weird vocal formations spat into Louke’s mic). This is to say it was self-absorbed Jazz with an African flare, not deeply moving, not danceable, but very much intellectual, to the point of being tiresome. Herbie Hancock did come out to play with Louke, his former student, at one point. Both were very genial towards the crowd between songs throughout (Louke would come out later for Hancock’s set). But there was not much of an entry point – just a distanced appreciation for whatever was happening on that fairly vacant stage (my eyes wandered a bit too much, i.e. not a visually intriguing show). It would make anyone (me) thirsty for some afro-pop guitar. (Not wanting to seem too uncool, you’d expect something from Graceland to begin, but apparently it’s the less laudable afro-influenced white guys. 11. “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” – Vampire Weekend). I chalked Louke and Co. up to an opening act trying too hard to impress, but I should have seen it as a warning for what was to come.
Before David got the tickets, we had discussed the plan at Starbucks (same one, same time). It was a choice between Mr. Hancock, the famous and critically acclaimed Jazz pianist, and Spring Awakening, the Tony-sweeping alterna-musical of 2007, which David had already seen and which would not pertain to our research. (Foreshadowing a bad decision, the discord of the next track bursts into the sound-scape. 9. “The Wrong Way” – TV on the Radio). The fact is that I had studied Joni Mitchell’s Ladies of the Canyon in David’s class this past semester. Herbie Hancock just won the Grammy for album of the year – Rivers, this latest album of his, solely consisted of Joni Mitchell covers. His stop at Carnegie Hall was part of his tour (“The River of Possibilities”) promoting Rivers. Moreover, David’s research often focuses on what can be referred to as “The American Songbook.” He has written about and studied Joni Mitchell before, and this piece of Joni Mitchell’s legacy that Herbie Hancock has brought into the American spotlight coincided with David’s studies. Indeed, Mr. Hancock’s performance at Carnegie Hall seemed like the perfect thing to do for us.
Thinking that we were going to get a heavy dose of Mitchell (Obviously something of hers is next. 10. “The Conversation” – Joni Mitchell) via the Jazz genius of Hancock, we met in front of the famous doors at Carnegie Hall. Like every other show I’ve attended for this trip, I (poorly) documented the crowds and the venue via camera. This gives one a sense of the audience. What the show is trying to communicate, to whom it is doing the communication, and thee people that choose to actively listen are all pretty important aspects of a performance. In a way, they define the context of and the reason for its existence. The audience is, of course, central to the validation of the act on the stage. Where this audience and this stage fits demographically can say a lot about the piece. David taught me a lot of that. Carnegie Hall and its expensive ticket prices attract a wealthier selection of people. How much they know about Jazz or to what degree they simply wish to participate in the cultu
ral trend is not immediately evident, but one can cynically speculate that the majority know very little and only want to seem informed about the culture. Either way, this was not the raw Jazz audience or the bar scene in the genre’s heyday.First, the inside of Carnegie Hall is spectacular. I’m sure I bring nothing new to the table when I say that the space is phenomenal in its open aesthetic and pristine sound. After the time spent admiring my surroundings, the Lionel Louke Trio walked onto the rather undecorated stage and opened the show with some Jazz/African guitar tunes and clucking vocals. It was pretty inaccessible stuff, which seemed like a mere showcase for Louke’s talent on his six stringed electric instrument. Clearly technically gifted, every twanged note seemed to come easily. The beats were complex, and the improvisation was rampant. However, it sounded a bit like a pretentious display of ability. Unconventional key shifts and obscure chord progressions occurred so often that the show felt all at once grating and ostentatious… and boring (the only sung “words”
were the weird vocal formations spat into Louke’s mic). This is to say it was self-absorbed Jazz with an African flare, not deeply moving, not danceable, but very much intellectual, to the point of being tiresome. Herbie Hancock did come out to play with Louke, his former student, at one point. Both were very genial towards the crowd between songs throughout (Louke would come out later for Hancock’s set). But there was not much of an entry point – just a distanced appreciation for whatever was happening on that fairly vacant stage (my eyes wandered a bit too much, i.e. not a visually intriguing show). It would make anyone (me) thirsty for some afro-pop guitar. (Not wanting to seem too uncool, you’d expect something from Graceland to begin, but apparently it’s the less laudable afro-influenced white guys. 11. “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” – Vampire Weekend). I chalked Louke and Co. up to an opening act trying too hard to impress, but I should have seen it as a warning for what was to come.
1 comment:
Zman - your blogs are terrific!! I promise to keep current as, regrettably, the summer winds down.
Post a Comment