If you look up Blues in The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians you get several pages describing the history of Blues music in the south. The original music had to do with the expression of those feelings of abuse and destitution common to the Black Experience in the south. To play the blues you had to feel the blues, it was not only a measure of expression, but one of experience. Feeling blue, however, as expressed in the music, was more than just the emotional state of depression. Feeling blue today is a casual expression, depressed, sad, down, melancholy or hypochondria (the original definition) or The English Malady are all expressions of an emotional state or state of mind; these states can be brought about by chemical imbalance or general moodiness, or an event that triggers a memory. In Cannonball Adderly’s description of the song “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy” he talks about dealing with adversity, “Sometimes we are not prepared to deal with adversity.” Adversity implies something acting on one from the outside environment, it can be people, society, weather, God (or perceptions of God), poverty, prejudice, hatred…. The Blues were originally a musical expression of these hardships; if you didn’t experience it you couldn’t play the blues. Because most of the people playing Blues were uneducated and illiterate simple patterns and scales developed that allowed musicians to improvise music and lyrics easily: twelve bar progressions of tonic, sub-dominant and dominant, and a six tone Blues Scale–pentatonic minor–as well as a repeated lyric line that gave a performer time to improvise new lines while repeating old ones.
There were many practitioners of The Blues, and it is still common for rock or Jazz players to improvise over a twelve bar progression when they meet. One of the most famous practitioners of The Blues, in the Rock world are ZZ Top, who made regular use of twelve bar, but this is a transformed twelve bar, the music having as much to do with the traditional blues as with the more modern concerns, the traditional rock subject of alcohol, sex and drugs–for instance their song “Thunderbird” on the Fandango album. But on their Deguelo album they did a cover of a Robert Johnson song which was originally recorded in 1936 as “I Believe I’ll Dust My Broom”, and during the many covers of it became shortened to “Dust My Broom.” The BB King version sound downright happy, while the Muddy Waters version is much more faithful to the original, and the Johnny Winter version gives a very nice slide guitar display. The words seem to change a bit, and the ZZ Top studio version seems almost refined compared to the live versions which always carry a unique energy since no performance is ever exactly the same. This song shows the power of the blues to cross generations of musicians and influence all modern music.
Music for Maya 2: Blues–Dust My Broom
Music for Maya
Dear Maya,
This is to help serve the cause of your musical education through listening. A great deal of what is expressed is going to be opinion, and you should feel free to like or dislike anything. Everyone’s tastes are different and what you will like in 10 years will be very different from what you like now. I would like you to try to describe what you do and don’t like about a certain piece or style. Feel free to discuss it with others and have others participate online here in the discussions.
Julian “Cannonball” Adderly was one of the great sax players. His style grew out of a Blues/Jazz tradition from the 50′s into the 60′s from which also came Miles Davis and John Coltrane; and this style eventually became one of the parents of Fusion. The common element is repetition of a background pattern over which a series of solos were improvised. The solos in this tradition were expected to be strongly melodic and every member of the band would have their solos. Because of the improvisational nature of this music Adderly recorded most of his albums live which create a different atmosphere than studio work would.
Listen to the song “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy” from the album of the same name. It was written by Joe Zawinul, who later went on to become one of the founding members of Weather Report, one of the great Fusion band.
I know you like “Carry on Wayward Son” by Kansas, and that album Leftoverture is one of the great Progressive Rock albums of the 70′s. I would suggest listening to “Magnum Opus” also on that album. I remember that when we first discovered them in high school some friends and I really loved “Journey From Mariabronn” from their first album Kansas and I thought it was very cool since it was based on the Hesse novel Narcissus and Goldmund and I was totally into Hesse then. It also, according to one friend, contained a Hungarian Minor scale; hey we thought that was totally cool for a rock group. Listen also to “Roundabout” on the Yes album Fragile. A roundabout is a traffic circle that one uses to get on and off roads, remember all those fun ones in Ireland? Or it can also be a merry-go-round.
Let me know what you think.
Uncle Venom
Richard Wilbur: Poetry and More August 22nd 2pm
Richard Wilbur: a Celebration at the Colonial Theatre August 22nd
RIchard Wilbur, one of America’s most honored poets, will be the subject of the tribute, Richard Wilbur: a Celebration, to be held at 2pm on August 22nd at the Colonial Theater on South Street in Pittsfield. Berkshire Theatre Group is presenting the program, which is free of charge.
The event will feature Mr. WIlbur, who celebrated his 90th birthday in March, reading his poems. He will be preceded by a group of Equity actors who will read scenes from Wilbur’s acclaimed translations of plays by Molière, Corneille and Racine. Two of Wilbur’s songs from Candide will be sung, and a highlight of the event will be the first public performance of two songs from Wilbur’s unproduced musical adaptation of The Madwoman of Chaillot. Speakers will include Wilbur’s biographer, Robert Bagg, and author and critic, John Simon, in a specially recorded video testimonial. Another admirer, Stephen Sondheim, has written a brief appreciation to be read.
The second Poet Laureate of the United States, Wilbur was twice awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry (in 1957 and 1989). His other honors include the 1983 Drama Desk Special Award, the National Book Award, the Edna St. Vincent Millay Award, the Bollingen Prize, the Ruth Lily Poetry Prize and, in 2010, the National Translation Award for The Theatre of Illusion. He was elected to a fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences and, in 1994, received the National Medal of Arts from President Clinton. His translations of Moliere are considered the standard English versions and are widely performed.
Members of Actors Equity who are participating are Molly Regan (of Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theater), Conrad L. Osborne, Mary Jane Hansen and Justina Trova. Noted actors, Austin Pendleton and Richard Easton will be featured on screen in scenes they recorded for the event, with Easton delivering the world premiere of material from Wilbur’s The Theatre of Illusion.
Soloists for Candide are Keith Kibler and Erin Nafziger; Regan and Hansen will sing material from The Madwoman of Chaillot. Accompanists are John Sauer and Will Severin.
Apprentices from the Berkshire Theatre Festival will also be featured in several scenes.
The event is curated and directed by Ralph Hammann, theater critic, director and former drama instructor. Time permitting, Mr. Hammann will interview Mr. Wilbur.
Tyler Gutowsky is producer for the Berkshire Theatre Group.
Water Street Books will have a selection of Wilbur’s books available for sale before and after the event. The Media Sponsor is Metroland of Albany.
The Best of Enemies, by Mark St. Germain (Spoiler Warning)
Mark St. Germain’s play The Best of Enemies, Performed at The Barrington Stage is about two people, Ann Atwater, and C.P. Ellis who are able to overcome their mutual hatred after being thrown together in a working relationship that forces them to grow. The background of the play is desegregation of schools in South Carolina; an area of the country where the Ku Klux Klan is powerful in the early 1970′s. The story is true, as director Julianne Boyd stated before the play started, but such an announcement should not be necessary. A play, whether based on fact, fiction, myth, religion, needs to be able to stand on its own merits as a work of art. The historical events have moral force and relevance entirely of their own volition; a work of art can build on that, successfully or not, but it must stand as a work of art, it must not merely report what happened. The Best of Enemies is lacking on a number of fronts, all of which are fixable, and most of which are not obvious until it is seen on the stage.
The story is about a series of meetings to discuss school desegregation, Ann Atwater, a woman who loves her people, hates men, and has a violent streak is forced to sit down with C.P. Ellis, head of the local branch of the Ku Klux Klan. The sessions are started an moderated by Bill Riddick, and C.P.’s wife also has a minor role.
The biggest problem the play faces is that is is entirely written as a series of vignettes, all of which are too short for any real development, all of which end in a platitude, a sharp comment or a joke. This give a very disjointed feeling to the play, almost as if one is watching a series of newsreels, each giving you a bit of of disconnected information which the audience is left to piece together like a jigsaw puzzle. Just as something interesting is trying to develop the scene ends abruptly, certainly leaving me wanting more. In St. Germain’s Freud’s Last Session he manages to develop the characters’ depth through dialogue, yet here in Best of Enemies the dialogue is weak. Instead of a two line, one sided, phone conversation, why not add the character of the Councilman Klan member who tells Ellis to attend the meetings to “keep an eye on things.” Show the respective feelings, develop the main character via dialogue with smaller roles. Instead of yelling at anonymous people on the phone lets see those people, how they affected the change in Ellis’s character. The role of Ellis’s wife needs greater development than a few short conversations about the past over the kitchen table can provide. Ann Atwater’s character comes off as mostly one dimensional, with a few brief lines giving hints of depth. Let those conversations develop, show more play between Bill Riddick and Ann, instad of blurting out a few sentences of their history, in a moment of one-up-man-ship, some sort of sympathy had to develop between the two, lets see that, if not lets see why. When Ellis decides to commit suicide it doesn’t make sense, at least not with what has been shown to the audience; again, insufficient development.
The acting and direction was superb. They certainly made the most of what they had to work with. The set design worked well with the vignette style of the play, and given a superior script this is still the cast I would want to see, but with the addition of a few smaller roles that help serve to define these characters. Mr. St. Germain clearly has the talent to do so, he has shown it in the past, and this play is worth the effort. I hope he makes it.
Despite the flaws, I think the play is still worth seeing. It is a good play with the potential to be a great play, so I hope that at some point in the future I get to see a revised version.
Welcome Back
Well, the site is finally back up and running with quite a bit of help from and independent contractor who actually seems to know what he is doing! There is going to be a lot of experimenting with the site so the look of it will be changing, and the e-commerce part has a long way to go! But soon there will be new bits here to read, so check back soon!
Last night at Tanglewood
Saturday was our last night for going to Tanglewood this year. Emmanuel Ax played the Second Brahms Piano Concerto. It was an excellent performance, though i would not classify it as brilliant though many people around me seemed to think so. There are two reasons for this: first, the piece itself. Brahms’ second is not that great a concerto. While it seems fun to play, with lots of banging at the piano, huge scale runs and seems to require great technical proficiency, it lacks subtlety (other than parts of the third movement). This is not Brahms at his best. Second, because the piece does not require much beyond a bit of bombast and great technical proficiency it does not show the pianists ability to elicit an emotional response. In the places where it was required Mr. Ax did an excellent job, yet it left me wanting more. I would classify this as a fun piece to listen to, and it was admirably conducted by David Zinman, whose work I tend to like.
Overall we have seen a number of outstanding performances this year at Tanglewood. Dawn Upshaw sang some Songs from the Auvergne, along with three by Osvaldo Golijov (both recordings I highly recommend, Cantaloube: Songs from the Auvergne with Ms. Upshaw conducted by Kent Nagano, and Osvaldo Golijov: Oceana, Tenebrae, 3 Songs For Soprano). Hilary Hahn was also outstanding performing the Sibelius Violin Concerto. The BSO had a bit of a hard time with the first of the Golijov songs, as it has a strong Eastern European/Klezmer influence that they just couldn’t quite get. But the other were superb. Ms. Upshaw has a voice so rich that it is perfect for all of these songs, as perfect as it was for Gorecki’s Third Symphony: Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, on which she is teamed with David Zinman conducting. There are now many recording available, but from the few I have heard this one is clearly the best.
I am looking forward to seeing Pat Metheny in Great Barrington in October as well as Boris Goduov at the Met. Also watch for a brief discussion of Coltrane and A Love Supreme coming soon.
Mahler’s 3rd Symphony
Saturday Jen and I had the pleasure of Listening to Michael Tilson Thomas conduct the Boston Symphony Orchestra in a performance of Mahler’s 3rd Symphony at Tanglewood. My first exposure to Thomas as a conductor was when he conducted the London Symphony accompanying John McLaughlin and the Mahavishnu Orchestra on the album Apocalypse. I still have that old vinyl record nearby amongst many others. I have never followed Thomas’s career, and I fear now that was a mistake. I had trepidations about how it was going to go, after all Mahler is a far cry from Mahavishnu (though McLaughlin has written a delightful classical guitar concerto). And to top it off Mahler’s 3rd Symphony is my favorite; the intricacies of the brass, woodwind and reed melodies in the first movement require delicacy and finesse. I have to admit that the first movement I heard Saturday night was among the best I have ever heard from those sections. The only lack I felt was a poor balance with the strings, however that could very easily be due to the acoustics and where we were sitting. The overwhelming clarity of the mingling melodies from the rest of the orchestra was so pure and powerful from the opening measures that I will always classify this among the best first movements I have ever heard. The slightly slower tempo Thomas uses allows the melodies to sustain their full, overlapping beauty.
The second and third movements were good, but not great. The strings seemed to be a bit muddy, but I am quite willing to accept the acoustics to blame as became clear in the fourth movement as the contralto soloist could barely be heard due to poor mic balancing. This would not have been a problem had we been front and center. The fifth movement was carried beautifully by the choir and was a delight.
The first and last movement are the two places where the mark of the conductor is most profound. Here Thomas follows the very slow style of Bernstein, and, in the final movement, I have to say that is a mistake in my mind. Mahler has a tendency to drag things out, especially in his later symphonies, to the point where it seems he is going nowhere. Those conductors that take this style to the extreme ruin this movement as what is really a beautiful piece of music becomes an interminably endless melodic mush. Solti outpaces Thomas by a full six minutes on this movement, and the gain in the strength of the melody makes this a piece that eagerly pulls the listener along, providing energy to a piece that is all to easily drained.
I would gladly pay to see Thomas conduct this again because of the first movement. He manages to bring every bit of richness out of the score, and the live experience is so superior to the CD experience. But I would want to sit closer in (which for me is prohibitively expensive) in order to properly judge the true sound, and I might leave before the last movement.
Roberto Bolano; By Night in Chile & 2666
Lately I seem to be grasping for every large book I can find to read. It must be that I am unhappy if reading a particular book does not give me elbow tendinitis. With that in mind I picked up Roberto Bolano’s 2666. Pound for pound it used up the strength in my elbows and exercised the muscles of my mind. This is a very good novel, and may indeed be a great novel. But I wanted some more time to digest what I had read and read more by Bolano, so I picked up the much lighter By Night in Chile. Of the short books I have read recently this is by far the best. In one night a Chilean Priest, poet, literary critic, member of Agnus Dei, looks back over his life in an almost dreamlike state; seeming to not be a full participant of the events described, more of an observer through an acid cloud. Father Urrutia takes us on a journey that condemns the Chilean literary elite, the Church and himself. The use of the killing of doves by the church, to preserve the architecture from the acidic nature of their feces, is a brilliant symbol of the Church destroying its soul to preserve its facade. This is a great short read for the literary minded, and weak armed.
2666 strikes some of the same themes, but due to the length can take them much further. This is a series of five loosely connected narratives, all tied, tenuously, to the life of reclusive German author Benno von Archimboldi. The first part takes a good slap at intellectual literary critics. They grasp early onto this little known author and center their careers on his writings, and their careers grow as Archimboldi’s output and sales grow. Their lives intertwine emotionally, sexually, as friends manipulate each other, and their colleagues to their own agendas, in their personal lives and in their careers. In the end they follow a tenuous lead to Mexico, searching for the recluse. They are hosted by a University in a border town in the north, where they believe they may find Archimboldi, but in the end they are met with frustration in their personal and professional lives. There is a clear slap at academic criticism and academic politics, both sexual and otherwise, that are clearly self-serving and manipulative. The second part carries a similar critical perspective but from a different angle. It is the story of Amalfitano, a Chilean Professor who, through the upheavals of his life, ends up in a backwater university in Northern Mexico.
The third part of the book, is the Part about Fate. Not the FATE you are thinking of. Fate, the reporter for an African American publication who is assigned to cover a boxing match in the town which is central to the novel. The is the part of the novel that would be quite complete on its own. Taken out it could stand on it’s own (which is possible true of all five parts), and it is the part that adds the least to the structure of the overall story itself. This section provides some insight into the city of Santa Teresa, but nothing that would not become clear in part four on its own.
Here is the meat of the novel. Part four, The Part About the Murders is the longest, the clearest and yet the most mind kneading bit. The rape/murders that take place number in the hundreds, with many quite vivid descriptions it is tough reading. This part highlights the corruption and incompetence of the Mexican Police, where the few officers who are actually interested in trying to solve the murders are pushed away from the case, and the prosecutor has an innocent man imprisoned and blatantly ignores the fact that the murders are still piling up, and the supposed perpetrator from behind bars is able to solve the crimes and gets ignored. An American police detective who gets involved quickly comes upon the killers and is murdered himself. This part of the book is so wound with metaphoric possibility that I find myself unable to settle upon a single interpretation, and I begin to realize that Bolano had so much to say and so short a time left to say it that he had to find a way to get it all in. He possibly succeeded. I say possibly because I cannot know what he wanted to achieve. What he did manage to do was create a work that shows the interconnectedness of the countries of the prosperous North and the alien world (to us) of the South. This part reads like a bad acid trip with no escape, and no end for those who are trapped within it. Yet, like that acid trip, is compelling and I found myself unable to turn away from it.
The last part, The Part About Archimboldi, is the bit that ties it all together, yet the package is not neat; not in the sense that the story is complete. This is a story that will be playing itself out for generations. A former German soldier comes out of WWII as a writer. As a non-contributing combatant, he makes his way through the war to become the great novelist whom “The Critics” hail. Disconnected from his family and his society he searches for and finds a voice for his feelings. Leading a somewhat disconnected life he finds himself at the end of his life having to make a trip to Mexico, to Santa Teresa as a way of connecting with what was left behind; or could he really be heading into the violence he so abhors?
This novel left me with so many profound questions that I will have to read it again; but not for a while. I hope anyone who has read this book will throw in their thoughts. I know many people did not read it because of the violence of Part IV, and I will not fault anyone who does so. It is difficult to read. Anyone looking to read the novel should take that into consideration.
Colm Toibin: Four Novels
Colm Toibin is well known as a novelist, critic, short story writer, historian of Irish Literature, essayist. He is also very consistent in that anything of his that you pick up will be well written. That being said, the first novel of his that I read was The Heather Blazing, and it it still the one I like the least. The story fell short for me because it is the story of an Irish Judge, Eamon Redmond, who is emotionally detached, from the world, himself and his family. Toibin does a beautiful job portraying him, but the character, because he is emotionally detached, is uncompelling. The thing that held me to the novel was the imagery. The imagery of the Irish landscape, the strand, and the eroding shoreline, undermining a house, as the cliff edges closer, and the entire house will eventually come crashing into the sea; imagery clearly portraying what is happening in Redmond’s life.
There are clear links from The Heather Blazing to two masterpieces: The Blackwater Lightship and The Master. The Blackwater Lightship is the story of Declan, who is dying of aids. The three women in his family, his sister Lily, his mother Helen and Grandmother Dora are living in various degrees of estrangement. For his last trip out of hospital Declan asks his friends and caregivers to bring him to his Grandmother’s house, where she, his mother, sister, and two friends, come together to face each other and try to reach beyond their own emotional misgivings and form a bond as family (admittedly dysfunctional), and deal with the mortality of the one they all feel closest to. Here Toibin draws rich, full, characters; from Declan, who is trying to use his mortality to pull the family together, to his friends Paul and Larry, who have been caring for him through his illness. Here Toibin uses his descriptive power to greater effect than in The Heather Blazing, because the reader is so emotionally invested in Declan and his family. The strand and the eroding cliff are used, but now the house is almost completely gone, representative of Declan’s life, and family. Because the emotional aspect is so powerfully drawn, the description of the surrounding landscape becomes more powerful with less description, creating a more integrated, complete story. As Helen and Dora are forced to confront Declan’s homosexuality their personalities are drawn out. Helen needs to blame someone, she needs there to be fault; while Dora, as a grandmother, is much more accepting, more resigned, things are what they are, we need to do what we can for Declan. Toibin has achieved a wonderful balance with this novel, we get to know everyone, we get to care while at the same time facing the inevitability of loss.
The Master, Toibin’s novelized life of Henry James, is his magnum opus (at least to date). Henry James is a somewhat reclusive, emotionally and sexually ambiguous, masterful observer of life around him. He sometimes seems to live his life vicariously, scrutinizing every detail of life going on around him, yet unable to fully participate. His observations become the sources for his writing. This novel offers Toibin the opportunity, and the freedom, to explore the inner workings of an artist, the way no biography can. The true success seems to me evident in the fact that there is no suspension of belief required to be drawn in. The character of Redmond is an emotionally withdrawn person, but lacks the depth and understanding Toibin affords us in his portrayal of James. Through his history we can understand part of why he becomes the way he does, why he writes what he writes, and how he faces the world around him. From his family dynamic to his friendships we gain insight into the mind of an artist, and can observe the artistic process at work. I was not a fan of Henry James, having read some in college, but have revised that opinion, and since reading The Master have gone back and read Portrait of a Lady and found an enjoyment I had missed earlier. Even if you are not familiar with James’s work this is an excellent novel; and don’t be surprised if you develop a desire to read James.
Brooklyn, Toibin’s most recent novel, is a work that left me feeling that either I missed something or the author did. It is the story of Eilis, a young woman who is sent to America by her family because of the poor economy in Ireland. It is a nice story about a young woman growing into herself, and being able to stand up for herself, but it seems to lack the depth one has come to expect from Toibin. It is a good character study, but the peripheral characters seem less well drawn than in other works, and occasionally I felt a stiffness in the writing style. No writer produces a masterpiece every time out, and if one is a fan of Toibin you should read it. But this should not be the first work of his that anyone should read as he offers so much more in his other work. If you have not yet read any of Toibin’s work start with The Blackwater Lightship and move to The Master.
Chef; by Jaspreet Singh
I recently received an Advance Reading Copy of Jaspreet Singh’s novel Chef, which is set for release in the US in May from Bloomsbury. This is a moving story, set in Kashmir; the Indian side of the border. Kirpal Singh is a sensitive young man who joins the military after his father, a decorated officer, is killed in the line of duty. Unfit for regular military duty, but slated to become an officer because his father was one, Kip becomes an assistant chef to General Kumar, head of the military in Kashmir. Working under an internationally taught chef, Kip learns everything he can about food, and, eventually becomes head chef. This is the situation of Kip’s life; but Kip’s story is as rich as the spices he conjures in his mind, whose names flow off his tongue. It is a story of war, prejudice, love.
There is a cancer in Kip’s brain, killing him, and he is asked, by the General to return to Kashmir, to prepare the wedding feast for his daughter Rubiya, whom Kip knew when she was a child. The journey provides Kip with a last opportunity to ask the questions he needed answers to. On the train and bus journey we are told the story of Kip’s life in Kashmir, in the service of the General, of his friend and mentor Chef Kishen, and of the Siachen Glacier–where his father lost his life, and where the military plays its endless game for dominance–and of his love.
Singh tells us his tale in a lyrical, almost poetical, manner. It is a short, spare novel (246 pages), that speaks directly to one’s emotional center. Like a fine recipe there is nothing superfluous, no extraneous garnish to distract one’s palate, each word seems carefully chosen, like the spices Chef uses in his finest meals, creating the perfect flow for the story. This is among the finest first novels I have ever read, partly because of Singh’s expert use of language ( I certainly hope he writes poetry), but mostly because the novel succeeds in bringing us in, making what Kip feels important to the reader. Kip’s introspective look at the past, punctuated with a constant flurry of spices and recipes, and with a powerful sense of morality, makes us want to ask the same questions Kip is really traveling to have answered.
I highly recommend this book to all readers, and I look forward to seeing what Jaspreet Singh’s pen produces for us over the years.