Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Sunday Recommendation: Shostakovich's Quality of Sadness

Every Sunday, from now on, I'll recommend you some work of art. This weekend: Dmitri Shostakovich's String Quartet Number 8 in C Minor. I won't recap who he is, or what the song is, since I'm going to link you to much better explanations. Here's the music:

And the second two movements:


My impressions: well, I was brought to thinking about this piece, which is one of my favorite pieces of all time, because of a friend who linked me to the Moonlight Sonata, and to Chopin's Nocturne Op.9 No.2.

Those two songs are very sad. And I love them too (I hadn't heard Chopin's Nocturne before, but I'm glad I did). The difference is in the quality of emotion, the nuance of scale--which is good, because if we were just going to perfection of emotion, the Moonlight Sonata might have ended sad music for the rest of history. You just can't beat the Moonlight Sonata at its game.

But of course, sadness comes in many flavors and varieties--bet you can't have just one--and Chopin and Beethoven are looking at a specific, classical kind of sadness. The classical image of sadness that I get from those pieces are the sadness that surrounds itself in beauty for comfort; the idea being, "if I suffer, I might as well suffer poetically--that way my suffering won't have been for naught, because in the pangs of birth will come something beautiful." That's what harmony means for me emotionally--no matter what the content is (here, sadness), it lies in a supreme order--that order gives it its meaning, that meaning gives it its comfort.

Shostakovich is not striving for that kind of sadness, or that kind of beauty--even though what he brings up is just as beautiful. Shostakovich is investigating a sadness that reacts in anger, in fury at the chaos around it. The rhythms in the third movement (my favorite, and I suspect many peoples' favorite) are lurching; the second and fourth movements explode out of the natural endings of the first and third; at times a dissonant squeal simply sits above the music. Dissonance is the chaos that the anger is rebelling against.

Interestingly, my familiarity with the song comes from tracks I purchased of eMusic.com (without being sourced). When I went to find clips on YouTube, almost all of the renditions I found were much faster and more manic than mine; it seems as though whomever conducted the version I'm listening to as I'm typing this (the one I bought from eMusic) is more familiar with the former (Beethoven/Chopin) sadness than the latter (Shostakovich) sadness. I was shocked when I heard the renditions on YouTube--the recording age makes you very reliant on certain renditions of your favorite song--but pleasantly so.

Listen to it. Enjoy the Russian sensibility (and irritability).

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Riffing About Riffing

Riffing in jazz and rock is the chance of the musician to break out of the melodic and rhythmic structure of the song. Nowadays, jazz and rock tracks are limited by their structure; a single melody and rhythm. Because there is a single melody, a single prevailing rhythm--I'm talking most popular jazz and rock tracks, not avant-garde jazz and prog-rock, etc.--it is difficult to spend more than three or four minutes on the same idea. The lyrics, the build in emotions, the complexity of that single melody/rhythm can prolong it, but basically: one idea is limited in length.

I'm a theater person, so I like to ape what I see and apply it to theater. And theater, really, is the same way as music. Aristotle came in with what he called unities: unity of action, unity of time, unity of space. What Aristotle didn't demand is unity of tone/theme, or unity of character. Of course, in his splitting Tragedy from Comedy, he created the implication of a unity of theme/tone.

I don't know when exactly the concept of unity in character arose--perhaps it was always there, perhaps the psychological rise of naturalism created it--but to a certain extent, that became limiting. I know this because I think unity of character is what hobbles Shakespeare productions. It is not so much that the plot hits monotony--it's that with a unified character, it becomes difficult to hit all the different marks that Shakespeare leaves. A dour, depressed Hamlet (who is defined by dourness) simply cannot get the gravedigger scene, or the relationship with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, or the scene where the play is presented to King Claudius. Nor would a comic Hamlet (I don't think anyone's ever tried to play Hamlet completely for laughs)

That carries into unity of tone. A dour Hamlet doesn't want to break the "mood" of the To Be Or Not To Be moment. If I were designing the play, I'd try to make it really funny right before "to be or not to be," if possible. I remember a production of Romeo and Juliet that I was once in whose major success was grasping the fact that the first half of Romeo and Juliet is a comedy. At the point it was written, Shakespeare had not written any tragedies. And nobody at the time knew how Romeo and Juliet ends. So straight up until Mercutio dies--even past the point where he is stabbed and is bleeding--the classic Shakespearean comedic devices are employed. I mean, for crying out loud, what does Mercutio say after being stabbed? "Call for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man!" Mercutio literally doesn't notice that things have become "dramatic." Suddenly he collapses, and there--then the tragedy starts, and the audience (and characters) realize the impact of what they've been doing.

If you play a Shakespeare play with a unity of tone, or a unity of character, you have to abridge. It will be too long. People will "get it." Especially since they know the ending. You might protest that there are many layers of language to explore--but if you're following a unified tone, or a unified character, you're not really exploring the language. Even in the same speeches, Hamlet goes from ecstacy to tragedy, from mania to depression, to absolute cool calm. This is not the place for a unified psychology, a logical progression of thoughts. If anything, Brecht understood this point best when he angrily denounced this unity of character in his Alienation Effect In Chinese Acting. Man is contradictory.

A sidenote: this is something that I first saw as a huge flaw in the otherwise well crafted, gripping, (and sometimes one-tone) Battlestar Galactica, a show that I highly recommend. No I have not seen the original yet, but I will eventually.

I liked this disunity of tone and of character best when I saw Patrick Stewart's Macbeth, and the now-infamous sandwich-eating scene (for those of you who haven't seen it... well, go and see it). The scene is such an odd deviation of tone and of character for Macbeth (without straining reality--because reality deviates in tones and of characters, as my day today has proven to me).

So why am I talking about this with riffing? Well, because... you should riff. If you've got a show that's got one tone going on, or one character, you need to find a place to riff. A place to drop whatever structure of the play is going on, and put in something that doesn't fit the play. David Herskovitz, for instance, would throw in places where the play falls apart--actors forgetting lines, etc. etc. If something breaks the mold of the play, steps right outside for a bit to play with new tones, new ideas, etc., then you won't have to worry about time; it might take up more time, but it will prolong the audience's interest.

Even in an "established" text like Shakespeare is open to riffing. There's plenty of riffing to go in between or around the lines. But if you've written your own work, are working on something new--leave room for riffing! Please. You wouldn't do it on the recorded track (i.e. the script) but you'd better do it when it comes to concert time (the performance).

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Fatuous But Possibly Thoughtful Game

Alright, the game is pretty simple. Turn on your music on shuffle and see how long it takes for the music that comes up to disqualify you from being a Presidential candidate.

1. George Carlin - Foole. Luckily, this isn't "Seven Dirty Words," and Carlin keeps his language decisively un-blue. It's an analysis of the history of comedy in general and Carlin in particular. Some of Carlin's most acceptible work, I suppose. So I'm still in the running. Maybe even a boon: showing I have a genuine sense of humor (rather than, for instance, having Seinfeld come up) without offending. Also, it plays to Carlin's blue-collar urban background.

2. The Section - Karma Police. A beautiful contemporary work rendered in the style of an old string quartet. I'm proud this came up: if it came up in an interview I'm sure I'd use it to mention about how art is enriched by being responded to by other artists. After all, if Thom Yorke and Radiohead wanted to rigidly enforce copyright, this song would be driven into the ground. Thom Yorke/Radiohead is rich enough. They don't need to. We're all better for having heard this song. I'm also proud of it aesthetically: Radiohead is a progressive, forward-moving band, and counter-pointing that with a beautifully nostalgic sense of tone like The Section really shows both sides of the equation.

3. Quincy Jones and his Swinging Orchestra - Soul's Bossa Nova . Well, normally I would have thought that Austin Powers is a little beyond the mainstream, but I heard this being played by a Jazz Band in Prague's Old-town Square the other day. The tourists really seemed to love it. It might raise questions about my hippy-ism and tie me a little too closely to the 1960s.

4. Hans Zimmer - The Might Of Rome. It's a good thing that this came up right after Soul's Bossa Nova. After all, this is a nice, manly, imperialist-expansionist right-wing sort of soundtrack, the sort of thing you might preemptively invade a foreign country for a valuable resource for. I might have alienated both sides a little.

5. RJ-D2 - Airbag. Radiohead comes into my playlist once again! Also, after having started out with the word-heavy Carlin, instrumentals have dominated the playlist. I love language, so it's a little rough that I'm being represented to tunes without words. I refer to the whole copyright point here; and I guess this further instruments my point by showing how different interpretations of the same artist can be if they come from different artists.

6. Rodrigo Y Gabriela - Tamacun. Fantastic guitar. Still instrumental. Dunno why Amarok is insisting on instrumentals, but it's keeping me in the game, I guess. The Tom Tancredo/Lou Dobbs crowd will probably grumble about me having latin-influence in my shuffle, but hell--I bet Lou Dobbs has some Ricky Martin on his iPod. Eh? At the very least, he has Cher. And to people on the other side, at least I'm interested in different musical styles and influences. Musicians will be happy to hear that, at least.

7. Me First And The Gimme Gimmes - Nothing Compares 2 U. Oh boy. Well, it won't put me out of the race (any more than ABBA disqualified McCain), but the retro song won't endear me to the young, and the less-than-aesthetic rendition will not endear me to the older. Ironic hipsters and illegal downloaders, on the other hand, will smile when they see it come up. It fits in with the earlier copyright point, but not in a very compelling way.

8. Thievery Corporation - Shadows Of Ourselves. Ah, some words. What are the words? French. Again, the Tom Tancredo/Lou Dobbs crowd might frown a little. This is a chiller, more electronic vibe--a little connected to RJ-D2--and it's on the border of being instrumental. I'm still in the running. I don't think this helps or hinders.

9. Lord of the Rings- Hope Fails. Ah, instrumentalism again. Another film score, which might have me pegged as a "Hollywood Elite," although if someone thought I was picking this music deliberately, it might look like a jab at Obama. Seriously, though, it's just another sorrowful, reflective song. If it wasn't for the George Carlin right off the bat, I'd look like a sad, pensive kind of President. Maybe an Abraham Lincoln, if I'm lucky, or (more likely) a Joe Lieberman.

10. We Are Scientists - Can't Lose. Ho boy. This song comes dangerously close to addressing teen alcoholism. I could try and cast it in the light of being a song that warns against alcoholism (it takes a very dour view of alcoholism), and the lines "I'm breaking my own rules/I'm turning into someone else" might not make good political fare. Still, since I don't drink, I have some plausible deniability. Close call? Also: the dour disposition continues to hang over the air. Can we go back to instrumentals?

11. Magnetic Fields - 10,000 Fireflies. Well, I'll stand by this song any day. Granted, it makes me sound like a wimp ("I'm afraid of the dark without you close to me") but it is among a compendium of witty and beautiful love songs, so I think that criticism will be muted. Maybe indie-rock folks will like me more?

12. Earth Wind And Fire - Touch The World. Hippy idealism strikes back! Alright, so I've lost anyone who doesn't want a sappy president, but this is something with a beat and funk, and nobody can take umbrage to it. Notice: this is probably on Obama's shuffle, and he's doing okay. It addresses social issues! "God gives hope and Jesus is the way!" with the choir effect might do something to some of my left wing; on the other hand, I'm not religious, and yet I'm willing to listen to religious-toned music. Open-mindedness is the key.

13. The Rolling Stones - Get Off Of My Cloud. Well, I guess this is 60s cynicism, to follow up on EW+F. But both of these bands are pretty solidly in the canon of music. If "Cloud" means "America", I guess this might be an attempt to reach out to the Tancredo-Dobbs Bloc. But otherwise, I'm still in the running.

14. Art Brut - Formed A Band. Moving swiftly from classic rock to indie rock. I'm proud of this one, and would make sure I say so. The tone finally has returned to tongue-in-cheek humor, after having left George Carlin so long ago. Absolutely harmless, and might pick up some of the young folks! "Yes, this is my singing voice/It's not irony/It's not rock n' roll/I'm just talking/to the kids!" Also: "We're gonna be the band/that makes Israel and Palestine gets along", thus putting peace on my agenda. Not seriously enough, obviously, but yeah.

15. The Darkness - Thing Called Love. The music itself is well within the mainstream, although a little too mainstream -- thank God Art Brut came first. The album cover, and its parental warning, might be a little leery with people, but this was a radio hit.

16. Kylie Minogue - Can't Get You Outta My Head. Eh. Really pop. Utterly inoffensive. Just a "meh" all around.

17. The Gorillaz - Punk. Thank God! The Gorillaz were well-timed. I have a high appreciation for Albarn, and I'm sure he'd take me far. It's completely inoffensive, although social conservatives may not like the music.

18. The Gorillaz - 19-2000. Oh man. This is a chill, positive vibe, but it's sooooo close to being about drug use. I can hear the social conservatives on Fox News mocking me now. Bill Clinton and "why didn't you inhale." Luckily, I can unequivically say I don't imbibe (I have quite the reputation as a Puritan when it comes to ingestion). Thankfully, "It's the music that we choose" is pretty apt here...

19. Bloc Party vs. Death From Above 1979 - Luno. There's something vaguely wrong about this song, but I don't know exactly what to make of it, and I doubt anyone who wants me not to run for President would have anything better to add.

20. Martin Luther King Jr. - I Have Been To The Mountaintop. YES! MARTIN LUTHER KING! I don't have to say how this works. The only people this alienates are people who I don't want on my side. Thank God! "I wouldn't stop there..." Hopefully this would tie into my love of good language and oration; this would probably bring up the whole Obama-"elitist"-style/substance kerfuffle again.

21. Better Than Ezra - Juicy. I like the song, but I think it wouldn't really bear on anything.

22. They Might Be Giants - We're The Replacements. Again, not a very insightful song. I'm being pushed more towards rock and roll.

23. Stan Kenton - Concerto To End All Concertos. A big-band jazz orchestra piece, in the Public Domain (discussing again how that's good--no need for Stan Kenton to keep making money). Seriously, don't I have any controversial music? This is a little ridiculous.

24. Toad The Wet Sprocket - Begin. Melancholic bland rock.

25. Barenaked Ladies - Peterborough and the Kawarthas. Tancredo-Dobbs might be mildly irritated by the Canadian band, but it's got a kind of heartlandy-feel without actually being stereotypical country. Eclectic, nostalgic, nature imagery. Not bad.

26. Lord of the Rings - Return of the King. Aside from the previously-mentioned Lord of the Rings stuff, I don't see much change. I'm doing really well for President! By now the public would have gotten bored scrutinizing my music, and gone and done something else. I'm kind of considering turning on the "More Cowbell" application and adding some Christopher Walken over it.

27. The Killers - Somebody Told Me. God, this got overplayed. I mean, it's good, but I got heartily sick of it. It's nice that Amarok reminded me of it. Again, I doubt it'll really move people one way or the other. Jeez, I'm tame. Of course, it scared the crap out of me after Return Of The King. Unless this song is actually about sex change, which I've privately considered it might be. But since even I'm not sure of that, I'll leave myself on the table.

28. Harry James - Ain't Misbehaving. One of the most standard of jazz standards. I could use it to make a cheap point about infidelity and public officials (I'm saving my loving for my wife, Spitzer!). It's instrumental, which again minimizes the impact.

29. Microprose - Heroes of Might And Magic Track ??. Eh... a song from a video game might lose me the Hilary Clinton crowd, but it's instrumental, it's old, and it's calm. I can't see people taking umbrage at it.

30. The Clash - Should I Stay Or Should I Go? Just a classic. I'm opening myself to the attack of "flip-flopper" but, c'mon, lighten up. It's a classic, and it links me to an older generation that might not get Art Brut or The Gorillaz, without losing me the people who do get Art Brut or the Gorillaz? There's a faint Spanish call and response, but I doubt Dobbs-Tancredo would even notice.

31. Louis XIV - Pledge of Allegiance. Allllllllright, well, that was a nice long campaign and I made it through the Primary season, but this is a dealbreaker. This is an entirely sex-obsessed song, with some women moaning, some light s+m, and a discrete tryst (which might hint at indiscretions in my private life). Also, a blasphemous invocation of the Pledge of Allegiance. The word "Bitch." "She said oh come on boy aren't you tired of talking about sex/I said little girl what do you really expect?"


Well, that was interesting. I made it surprisingly far, considering how much seedy music I've got elsewhere on my computer. But Louis XIV would get me out of the race any day. I guess this exercise has proven how contrived the "playlists" of our politicians are: if they were genuine, they would make a lot less sense than the playlists we are presented in magazines like Blender.