Thursday, May 31, 2012

Dancing in the Streets



Martha and the Vandellas. Amazing.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

800 Words: Why Early Music Sucks


When classical musicians say ‘Early Music’ they mean something different than other people. To the average American, early music probably means before The Beatles. No doubt, some Americans hear the term Early Music and assume you mean anything before Thriller. But to classical musicians, Early Music will always mean BB: Before Bach.

Bach as we know him today is an invention of the 19th century, not the 18th. He was the first classical musician to earn mass appreciation long after he died. In his own day, he was a well-respected composer better known throughout musical Germany for his temper and the brilliance of his organ improvisations. But I wonder if anyone who heard his music in his own lifetime would have guessed that so many musical experts would come to view him as the colossus who towered over all music before or since. In the decades after his death, only a select few musical connoisseurs (including Mozart and Beethoven) appreciated him for the giant he was. It was not until 1829 when Felix Mendelssohn performed his St. Matthew Passion in Leipzig to a packed church of listeners who openly wept that Bach began to attain his current reputation. Bach was perhaps the first composer to be more valued by another era than he was by his own. The reason for this is that the directness of communication in Bach’s music, the spiritual solace, and the massive profundity fit like a glove to the values and longings of 19th century Europe, yet it was almost completely out of step with the 18th century Europe of Bach’s day. Indeed, there are some decent reasons to doubt that Bach meant for his music to have the qualities which the 19th century so valued in him. According to the constant protestations of academic researchers, Bach’s music had been played for 150 years with forces too large, tempos too slow, rhythms too ponderous, and profundities too vast. According to them, Bach’s music should not cry out for the plight of the world, it should dance.

Is what they say true? And would that make Bach a lesser composer if it were?

As I’ve said in previous posts, the problem with the ‘academic’ manner of performing Bach is that it strips him of everything which made Bach’s music inflame hundreds of millions of imaginations. In such performances, he is no longer a giant, he is a second-rate Telemann. Even if it is authentic to what Bach wanted, it is not authentic to what his listeners desperately need.

But then again, the 19th century’s Bach is not our Bach. And the 19th century’s Early Music, is not our Early Music. Most people do not believe that we live in an era in which art exists to permit mankind to scale the heights of spiritual uplift – most people believe that religion or drugs do that much better. Most culturally active people don’t think they need Bach in the same way they once did, and like so much else which seemed profound to their grandparents, it seems to them boring and bombastic.

In most places, most places in America and Europe at least, Art no longer exists as a means to ‘better oneself.’ If you believe the Frankfurt School, that notion apparently died at Auschwitz, and professors influenced by them have been spreading Adorno’s idea to upper class students ever since. Even the music to which Baby Boomer professors listen seems too earnest for a generation taught to believe that self-betterment is a relative term. In today’s cultural world, with all its niches and options, the greatest indicator of artistic quality is its novelty: How new is it? How different? How original? And if you’re a little sentimental: How unique? Music and art can no longer save your soul, so it’s now just a commodity to be prized like a car or an i-phone. As it turned out, Adorno’s fears were entirely justified. But what he never could have forseen was that he was one of the primary causes of his fears coming to fruition!

It’s silly to even mention novelty when discussing the classical music world, which by definition prizes the old and battle-tested. But today’s classical music world, such as it is, is as much a part of our time as any other genre. We the classical music lovers of today prize newness and innovation as much as anyone else, and since – by definition – we can’t offer as much that is new, we offer more that is old.

And since it is far closer to the ethos of the contemporary world, early music is in some ways a much healthier culture than any other of the classical music world’s stale parts. Traditional symphony orchestras are lucky to retain their music directors for ten years, but period ensembles seem to keep their directors for life. Traditional performers can barely get a recording contract, yet there seems to be a new batch of recordings from the latest ‘visionary’ in the Early Music world every month. The fervor which greets performances of the great romantics (Chopin, Verdi and such..) is a mere nub of the popularity they experienced a century ago, yet many major opera houses now have as much Handel on their schedules as they do Wagner.

Why is this?

There simply aren’t enough new composers in our world to compete with all the innovation of the world’s bands, DJ’s, and performance artists…but there were… And if we can attract some new members into our ‘elite’ clique by opening our 1000 year back-catalogue, let’s do it,...or so we reason. It won’t matter if we have no idea how to perform it, and it won’t matter that until we do, all of it will sound somewhat alike. Even if it does sound alike to anyone who listens to it for more than an hour, it allows us to perform all sorts of completely new old instruments with new old sounds. It allows us to show that one particular era had different concepts of harmony and counterpoint than another, and therefore it allows us to contribute a little more to our modest part of the world’s multicultural rainbow.

I sometimes meet music lovers who are passionate about Early Music. I completely respect their right to be so, I just have trouble believing them. No doubt, this is obscenely hypocritical. I’ve spent most of my thirty years on this earth explaining to other people that yes, I’m absolutely serious when I say that I love and am obsessed by classical music, and you’re a douche for ever questioning that. To deny that other people can be equally passionate about a part of classical music which I don’t understand is more than a rudeness too far, it’s a slightly obscene form of retribution in which I get to discriminate against a minority within my own minority. I understand that people love Early Music, and that there is much to love within it. It’s just that I could scream.

Yes, the harmonies can be gorgeous, the rhythms can be invigorating. But after a couple decades of singing in choruses, and after a few years of directing them, I’d be hard-pressed to name fifty pieces of pre-Bach music which display a vision individual enough to describe without either resorting to theoretical music terms or generic descriptions about how the piece is ‘spiritual’ or ‘earthy’ or a half-dozen similarly boring adjectives.

This is by no means akin to saying that pre-Bach music is somehow lacking in greatness, or that mankind before Bach had not yet evolved to the point where it was capable of making great music. It is to say that we have lost so much of the oral tradition from these eras, and so few of the subtleties in their performance styles are accounted for, that we have no idea how to make a compelling authentic performance.

Authenticity has been a much-contested word in classical circles for the better part of a century. What is an authentic performance? Should performers always be absolutely true to the letter of the score? And if they are, have they done the entirety of their duty to the composer? It’s at least a question worth asking for living or recently dead composers for whom there is ample testimony for precisely what they want. But the further back the text goes, the less testimony there is. And the less testimony there is, the less the ‘authenticity’ question makes sense. When it comes to music pre-Beethoven, experts can’t even agree on the proper pitch. How the hell are performers supposed to recreate what the composers heard and wanted when they don’t even have the barest outline of what it sounded like?

It’s a cliché at this point, but the only authenticity is good musicianship. A boring performance can always hide behind the thought that perhaps the composer wanted it to sound as boring as they made it. But just as all classical musicians must ask themselves, Early Music performers still have to ask: if no listener is inspired, who cares what the composer thinks? It’s certainly a question asked more often now than the Early Music scene ever before did, but they still don't ask it often enough.

If Monteverdi heard his madrigals sung without any humor or sense of drama, he’d recoil in horror. If Handel saw the four-hour uncut snoozefests to which opera audiences are subjected – sung by so many wobbly voices with bad technique, accompanied by undramatic instrumental playing and faux-shocking stagings, he’d throw his hands up and probably issue a moratorium on his operas being performed. Even today, long after the authenticke brigade claimed to learn its lesson, performances and recordings of this music are hardly less dull than they ever were.

If we want Monteverdi and Machaut to capture the public imagination the way Bach once did, we have to stop trying to be true to their era and instead be true to our own. We need creative responses to this music that puts us squarely in our own day – not theirs. We need Dufay music videos and Ockeghem remixes. We need ways to approach English Renaissance which are deeper than simply recording Sting and his f-cking lute. We need musicians of vision who can translate this music for a public who will understand it instantly when they hear it played in their own language. We need today’s performers to do for for Josquin what Mendelssohn did for Bach. After all, if Bach were played in a truly authentic manner, we’d probably be listening to choirboys whose voices constantly cracked, violinists who always lose their place, and continuo which continually plays the wrong chords.

In the next day or two I'll  post of a list of recordings of early music which I love as much as any other type of music and precisely what makes them great. It's just a shame there aren't more of them!

Saturday, May 26, 2012

800 Words: Why Religion Always Wins - Part III



(Orson on Chartres…go to 1:09)

“…Our religion is not yet a horrible restless doubt, still less a far horrible composed Cant; but a great heaven-high Unquestionability, encompassing, inter-penetrating the whole of Life. Imperfect as we may be, we are here, with our litanies, shaven crowns, vows of poverty to testify incessantly and indisputably to every heart, That this Earthly Life and its riches and possessions, and good and evil hap, are not intrinsically a reality at all, but are a shadow of realities eternal, infinite; that this Time-world, as an air-image, fearfully emblematic, plays and flickers in the grand still mirror of Eternity; and man’s little Life has Deities that are great, that are alone great, and go up to Heaven and down to Hell….”

Thomas Carlyle - Past and Present, writing about the 12th century.

Everyone with the opportunity should go to the great churches of the Middle Ages. Don’t just go to those Renaissance Italian Duomos which glitter like affirmations of gorgeousness against Lutheran austerity. Go to the French eglises, go to Notre Dame, go to Chartres, go to Saint-Michel da Aiguilhe, buildings from the era when eternal affirmation seemed like the ultimate progress – from an era when there no doubt was entertained that human progress was on the side of God Himself. Imagine yourself a Parisian peasant of the 13th century, preserved by the Cloth in deliberate squalor and shit, told that your miserable existence is but a brief trial before the glories that await you in exchange for your complete submission to their will. Your life is toil and grime, yet from the moment you first gaze upon Notre Dame, a cathedral your grandfather or his brothers died building, you know that your life has none but the greatest purpose and meaning. If God can grant something so beautiful, so heavenly as Notre Dame to our world, then how grand and glorious must Heaven itself be?

The great Italian Cathedrals are conservative statements. They preserve a particular Christian tradition against the encroachment of a new dogma. But the great French churches are progressive statements of eternity itself. In this era when Western Man lay perpetually in darkness, when the light of truth was sequestered in monasteries – preserved for the few who could intercede to a deity who seldom shows mercy on behalf of a wretched laity.

For the essence of belief is not belief, the essence of belief is doubt. The fervor of a person’s belief is directly proportional to his insecurity – finding in God that which he can’t provide for himself. Religious fervor was the acme of progress in the Late Middle Ages because out of the chaos that was Europe after Rome and Byzantium, no institution but the Church could provide unity of purpose. Thanks to the Church, scholars all throughout the European world spoke the same language and could therefore exchange ideas more freely than ever before. The literature and art of the age was rife with symbolism, and since all men shared the same belief, the symbols were universally recognized for what they represented. Wars of this era were no longer merely blood feuds, they were matters of honor, determiners of dynastic succession, and fulfillment of religious obligation – holy missions of nobility ordained to reinstate the world’s proper order. And no matter how bloody the war, or how hypocritical the blessing, the clergy could bless both sides in their cause, and because they spoke with the word of God, they could not be contradicted – even if they contradicted themselves. Make no mistake, there was an era when suborning one’s personal will to a mass movement was truly progress for mankind, but it is 800 years in the past.

But that has not stopped the endless yearning of mankind to be eternal. We have been trying to recapture the tantalizing simplicity of this vision ever since. From the moment the world first encountered Dante’s horrible vision of a world with only three choices, our artists tried to find ways of recapturing the utter simplicity of Dante’s vision. Milton seeks to justify the ways of God to Man, Goethe sells Faust’s soul to the devil in exchange for a moment of perfect simplicity, Dostoevsky demonstrates that only Alyosha Karamazov’s submission to the Will of God and his Perfect Church will provide a life of purpose and meaning. Even in our own centuries, we can see the striving for this transcendental simplicity, from Bob Dylan’s yearning to find the answer blowing in the wind, to Don Draper’s wish to create a perfect American family, to Charles Foster Kane’s Rosebud – they may not be religion, but in each case they are the same longing for the pure, undivided self.

It should strike us as ironic that these great anonymous Cathedrals of the Middle Ages - which were created purely as temples to the Glory of God, with no thought as to the glory of man - were mankind’s greatest shelter, and we have not found a more welcoming shelter since. The agony of doubt which disturbs us did not disturb Medieval Man. However unlikely, we at least have to allow for the miniscule possibility that mankind has never been happier than it was during a period of abject squalor, with no doubts as to what life held in store. The boundaries of good and evil were clearly demarcated, and those with particularly evil intentions could generally find a clergy, somewhere, to sanctify their malevolence. The isolation and loneliness of every man’s private moments was not felt in an era of such unity.  There was a deity who saw your problems as they were happening and would reward you for your travails. Man had no divided self, and life, with all its messy emotions and entanglements, was a mere rehearsal. For the true life has no division, no complexity, no confusion. In the true life, there is merely Paradise, Purgatory, and Perdition - and reading Dante is the closest we will get to understanding their worldview.

But even the vision of Dante is presumptuous to the medieval mind. To the average 13th century Christian, it would be very near the ultimate heresy for a mere man to claim foreknowledge of the afterlife's contents and assign people to their stations - that is the job of Christ Himself. To understand the purity of his vision, all we have is those churches - those massive upward bridges to the divine, in which no light is can be let in except by reflected sunlight and fire.

I'm looking forward to France this summer...

Quote of the Day

Ethan: What I lack in height I make up for in beard.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Quote of the Day:

Jordan: Always go to people's funerals, if you don't, they won't come to yours.

Sight and Sound Movie List: The Manning


Having read all the wonderful contributions thus far, I've decided to throw my hat in the ring. It also may have something to do with being informed by Evan that "the list is life".

My current thesis is that everyone actually has two movies lists. The first being their actual favorite movies, and the second being the movies they claim are their favorites in order to seem more interesting. I'll start with the second.

(Editor's Note: Guilty as charged. He's probably right.)

"The Wine List" (in no particular order)

1. Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean, 1962).

I’m glad I waited to see this on the (very) big screen at the AFI in Silver Spring. This is the quintessential “epic” film: panoramic, lengthy, and breathtakingly beautiful. David Lean was a ridiculously talented director, also responsible for Dr. Zhivago (1965) and The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957). I almost put the latter on this list simply for the amazing performance by Alec Guinness.

2. High Noon (Fred Zinnemann, 1952)

John Wayne said this was the most Un-American film he’d ever seen. It’s a Western that forgoes nearly all of that genre’s tropes about heroism, action and adventure in favor of a sober examination of duty, community and cowardice. Fun fact: Gary Cooper (the star) later sold out Zinnemann to the Joseph McCarthy and the HUAC.

3. Pan's Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro, 2006)

The brutality of the early Franco regime serves as the backdrop for this riveting tale of dark fantasy. At turns beautiful and gruesome, this film grabbed me by the brain in a very primal way.

4. The Wrestler (Darren Aronofsky, 2008)

Mickey Rourke gives an amazing performance as a lonely, battered and broken hero. I cried a lot whilst sitting next to Der Schreiber.

5. Hable con Ella (Pedro Almodovar, 2002)

Okay, so this movie is really weird. And I probably enjoyed it more than I would have otherwise because I first saw it while living in Madrid in 2003. That being said, it’s an amazing example of a director crafting some extremely sympathetic characters.

6. City of God (Fernando Meirelles, 2002)

Just go watch it.

7. Nueve Reinas (Fabian Bielinsky, 2000)

This Argentine movie about two con-men straddles the line between wine and beer. I’ll defer to Roger Ebert on why it’s great: “Nine Queens is a con within a con within a con. There comes a time when we think we’ve come to the bottom, and then the floor gets pulled out again.”

"The Beer List" (in a particular order)

1. The Big Lebowski (Coen Brothers, 1998)

I can recite the whole thing from memory. I’ve won a costume contest by dressing as Walter Sobchak. There’s no way I can put anything else at the top of the beer list.

2. Star Wars (Lucas, 1977-1983)

La Menichelli being legitimately interested in watching these 3 movies with me was a significant moment in our relationship.

3. Field of Dreams (Robinson, 1989)

Ray. People will come, Ray. They’ll come to Iowa for reasons they can’t even fathom. They’ll turn into your driveway, not knowing for sure why they’re doing it. They’ll arrive at your door, as innocent as children, longing for the past. “Of course, we won’t mind if you look around,” you’ll say, “It’s only twenty dollars per person.”


And they’ll pass over the money without even thinking about it, for it is money they have and peace they lack. And they’ll walk off to the bleachers and sit in their short sleeves on a perfect afternoon. And find they have reserved seats somewhere along the baselines where they sat when they were children. And cheer their heroes.


And they’ll watch the game, and it’ll be as they’d dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick; they’ll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come, Ray.


The one constant through all the years Ray, has been baseball. America is ruled by it like an army of steamrollers. It’s been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and that could be again. Oh people will come, Ray. People will most definitely come.

4. Blade Runner (Scott, 1982)

Ridley Scott is amazing. Over 20 years later and this film still holds up as one of the greatest works of science fiction in film.

5. Groundhog Day (Ramis, 1993)

When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.

6. The Hunt for Red October (McTiernan, 1990)

Let them sing.

7. Ronin (Frankenheimer, 1998)

One of my favorite DeNiro movies, and hands down the best car chases from any film ever.

Click Here for The Treff/Liang's List
Click Here for Il Barone's List
Click here for The Hicks's Epic List of the Awesomely Bad
Click here for Der Gronowski's List
Click here for The Hicks's List
Click here for La Kozak's List
Click here for Die Grimes's List
Click here for Richard Nixon's List
Click here for The McBee's List
Click here for Der Koosh's List




Wednesday, May 23, 2012

800 Words: The Eurasian Faultline: Part 2 - Athens (Part 1)


Athens: At the moment, Greece is still more complicated. And in order to work through that complication, we must take a brief and not completely welcome trip to France.

I am not one to lightly throw support to any government affixing a ‘conservative’ label to their affiliation. But as it usually does, a large portion of the European Left scares me as much as a large portion of the American Right. Many Europeans would have us believe that Nicolas Sarkozy was everything liberals hate, allegedly as bellicose and undiplomatic a leader as the world saw during his era. Yet there is not a single world leader in the last five years with his diplomatic accomplishments. Not even Barack Obama.

Sarkozy formed a bi-partisan government with Socialist leaders who trusted him enough to join his government in spite of being expelled from their own party. He supervised the negotiations the FARC group in Columbia that led to the release of a group of political hostages that included Ingrid Betancourt in exchange for the release of FARC’s leader: Rodrigo Granda. He negotiated the release of a group of Bulgarian nurses from Libya in exchange for providing greater aid to Libyans for health-care and immigration opportunities. And when Moamar Gaddafi threatened the same Libyan people to whom Sarkozy's France provided the aid Gaddafi wouldn't, Sarkozy formed a multi-national coalition to prevent Gaddafi's army from potentially committing a massive democide against the very people he ruled for over forty years. You don’t have to like Nicolas Sarkozy, or even support him as the lesser evil, but any subscriber to liberal values who is not a reactionary poseur has to acknowledge that he created an admirable list of diplomatic accomplishments which every world leader should try to emulate. In his place is Francois Hollande, a Socialist Party stalwart whose principle campaign promise in the midst of an economic maelstrom was to lower the retirement age.

What’s happening in France is just another version of events all around Southern Europe, in which a high standard of living is considered a guaranteed entitlement for which nobody needs to work too hard to sustain. The results of Greece’s recent election were inconclusive because most of the Greek voters cast their vote for whichever single-issue minority party best promised to uphold their particular special interest – is there any reason to expect that the June 17th election will be any better? Youth unemployment is now over 50 percent in both Greece and Spain and around 30% in Italy and Portugal.

Whether or not America averted another Great Depression in 2008-9, it’s very much a Great Depression in Southern Europe. The European Central Bank cannot possibly print up enough money to buy all its Southern members’ debt. This is a situation that practically cries out for populist demagogues to tell these countries that they can simply opt out of the euro zone (meaning whatever countries operate under the euro) with no repercussions.

So let’s do what they won't, let's walk through the repercussions of this action:
1.     1. Whoever opts out of the euro zone will have a currency valued so low as to be nearly worthless – and any worth it still has will quickly be washed out by hyperinflation.
2.      2. If a country pulls out of the euro zone, the Euro itself has potential to go into free fall twice over:
a.       Any country who pulls out will do so with the express intention of defaulting on their loans -  thereby saddling the European Central Bank and the European Union with a gaggle of junk bonds which that country would probably never have the money to pay back.
b.      If one country pulls out of the Euro, so can any other – thereby terrifying worldwide investors in European companies who see a European investment as a guaranteed money loser.
3.      3. A Europe without a common currency would then be a union having neither a political nor a financial reason for existing. Russia, China, America, and the Middle East could practically dictate their own terms to a Europe in economic freefall. Any of the civil conflicts raging to Europe’s south could come up north, and there is no vested interest for the short-sighted politicians of any European country to involve itself in the problems of any other. Nobody knows where or how far the civil conflicts of the Middle East can spread.

There is, of course, one country which can still save Europe – but Germany simply doesn’t want to do it. They may have their house in order, but they’re no more willing to compromise their good lifestyle than Southern Europe was. Some figures say that this whole mess would be solved if Germany simply distributed 8% of its yearly GDP to Southern Europe – but no German wants to do that if they don’t have to. Once can certainly understand why they wouldn’t want to do it, but a Euro in free fall will ruin everybody’s party – even the Germans’.

There’s an even more practical solution which even (especially?) now few politicians are bold enough to suggest: A strong, unified, European Federation in which all countries have the same polity, the same legislators, the same army, and the same debts. But apparently it’s still too far fetched to imagine. Some policy makers suggested an intermediate baby step: the Eurobond – which pools together all European investments for a 10-year yield. If issued, it might be a convenient short-term solution. But even this baby step towards cooperation is so controversial that it may never appear on the market at all. As it always has been in Europe, national rivalries seem too bitter to ever overcome. 

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Quote of the Day:

Der Koosh on Robespierre:  The real hint everyone should've picked up on was that he took his tea with milk AND sugar.
Vagrant.

Monday, May 21, 2012

800 Words: The Eurasian Faultline - Part I: Istanbul




Barely a hundred miles from either side of the collection of small seas and straights that separate the Mediterranean Sea from the Black Sea lie the world’s two most important cities – the two outposts of different civilizations that forever stare at each other across the faultline and bloodily demarcate the eternal divide between Europe and Asia. On the Western side lies Athens; cradle of European Civilization and an eternal capital upon which Rome, Paris, Vienna, London, Berlin, and Washington all modeled themselves. On the Eastern side lies Istanbul, the heart of Byzantium and the Ottomans, always either the Westernmost capital of Islam or the Easternmost capital of Christendom – the city which all Central Asian empire­­s from the Caliphates to the Mughals built their cities to emulate. If Islamic empires wanted to extend their domination into Europe, they first had to capture Athens. If Christians wanted to conquer Asia, they first had to capture Constantinople (as Istanbul was then called).

Geography is as large a determiner of history as any other force, and it rarely if ever changes. The strategic importance of these two cities is as important today as it has ever been to world history. Where they go, history goes. And as ever before, Athens and Istanbul determine the our fate, our ancestor’s fates, and our descendants’ fates.

Istanbul: Much has been made of the Greece’s economic reservoir drying up, but very few people have heard that slices of Turkey are similarly dry (sorry…). Indeed, Turkey’s current deficits are no smaller than Greece’s, projected at 10% of their current GDP. Whereas emerging market currencies like Brazil and Russia soar, the Turkish lira has seemed in on the cusp of a complete free fall. Unlike Greece, Turkey controls its own currency and devalues it further and further as a means to control its deficit. But how much more can the lira be devalued before the deficit has to be paid off and their currency spirals down into a hyperinflation?

But the main difference between Greece and Turkey is that while Greece serves as a negative model for Europe of an indolent welfare state living off the largesse of harder working neighbors; Turkey is an absolute role model for the Middle East and nearly all of Asia and Africa. By emerging third-world countries, Turkey is seen as a model of a democracy which successfully integrated Islamist religious parties yet maintained its democratic character, a booming economy, and ever rising international power. Per usual, reality and perception are on mutually exclusive terms. As of December 2011, Turkey had imprisoned ninety-seven journalists, thousands of opposition figures, banned roughly a million websites, disqualified the Kurdish separatist party from serving in the Turkish parliament, bombed Iraq with collusion from Iran in flagrant violation of international law, and killed as many as 56,000 Kurds (admittedly, the actual total of the latter is probably less than half that…). Turkey refuses to renounce its claim on Cyprus, and has occupied half of it as a conqueror since 1974. Prime Minister Erdogan continues his attempts to push through a new constitution that would increase his power at the expense of the press and the judiciary. The whole of the Turkish government still refuses to acknowledge the Ottoman Empire’s attempt at genocide which resulted in the murder of 1.5 to 2 million Armenians. This refusal has the backing of most Turks and when the great Turkish novelist, Orhan Pamuk (everyone should read Snow and especially My Name is Red) denounced this refusal, he was placed on trial for “insulting Turkishness” in a case that went all the way to the Turkish Supreme Court – he was found guilty and would have probably been sent to jail had there not been tumultuous pressure from the international community to not imprison him.

Like the rest of the Islamic world, Turkey faces the twin problems of a baby boom and the flight of non-Muslim peoples to more tolerant parts of the world. Much of contemporary Istambul would like to think itself similar to Athens, a modern European city whose country can easily take its place among the sovereign nations of the European Union. But in the event of so many clampdowns on civil liberties and so much intolerance of minorities, it’s not surprising that Turkey's EU membership was forestalled indefinitely.

There are all sorts of theories about where Turkey is headed. Perhaps Turkey will continue on its 2000’s path toward true democracy and economic boom. As late as the first quarter of 2010, the Turkish economy grew 11%. But the last few years make that possibility seem rather more unlikely than it once did. Some pundits believe that Prime Minister Erdogan is aiming for something approaching a revived Ottoman Empire in which Turkey becomes the benefactor if not the outright satellite governor of every Islamic state within a 2,000 mile radius. In some ways, Turkey is perfectly poised for that position. It stands at the precise northern center of the Islamic world, a potential nexus (perhaps the only potential nexus) of stability while the entirety of the Islamic world surrounding it engulfs itself in civil conflict. All these countries are practically crying out for a strongman to rule them like a colonial empire. Through its proximity to European stability, Turkey is almost ideally equipped to supervise Islamic Africa to its southwest and Islamic Asia to its southeast. No one doubts that if Turkey could prevent Islamic civil conflicts from spreading to Europe or East Asia, then the world superpowers would look the other way if Turkey ran the Islamic world like its own fiefdom. If this turns out to be the case, then Turkey would take its place with the United States and China as one of the world’s dominant superpowers.

Other pundits tell us that Turkey as we know it cannot sustain itself and must fall – potentially separating into at least three different countries – one European, one Islamic, one Kurdish, and all with massive potential for civil war. Should contemporary Turkey fall into pieces, then the only predominantly Islamic country of world importance that does not potentially look on the brink of a long civil war is Indonesia. The truth however remains that no one knows what the future holds in store for Turkey. But either of these two scenarios would yet again bequeath the fate of the world to Istanbul’s hands.

Update: Der Koosh correctly points out that I had in a previous draft misspelled the name of the city as 'Istambul'. I suppose that this misspelling begs the question: 'why should you trust someone to opine on a city which he can't even spell correctly?' The answer: you shouldn't. But I'll opine anyway..

Sight and Sound Movie List: The Treff/Liang


Drop Dead Gorgeous (1999, Michael Patrick Jann)
This mockumentary on the beauty pageant world is so full of satire that it is hard to believe Christopher Guest was not involved.  An unfortunate victim of bad marketing (selling itself as a teen thriller, which it is not in any way), it never gained a huge following.  Nonetheless, this movie will make you laugh so hard you will fall over. I promise.

Gaslight (1944, George Cukor)
I've been told that as a younger woman, my Grandmom looked a lot like Ingrid Bergman, and I've loved her movies as long as I can remember.  This movie is thrilling in a wonderfully understated way, and the casting of romantic hero Charles Boyer as the potentially sinister Gregory Anton was a stroke of genius.

Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-3, Peter Jackson)
I'm cheating and including the trilogy as one entry on this list.  The expansive story receives loving and respectful treatment from Peter Jackson, and is accessible to hardcore fans and the uninitiated alike.  Besides, it's impossible not to cheer at the screen when Eowyn throws the Witch King of Agmar's prophesy back in his face.

Laura (1944, Otto Preminger)
I’m a sucker for film noir, and this one tops the list. The movie both relies on and plays with the genre’s most famous tropes in a refreshing way.  Dana A ndrews’ Mark McPherson also feels more accessible and human than the more aloof Philip Marlowe.

MirrorMask (2005, Dave McKean)
I know this will be a controversial choice, but I promise my love for this movie goes beyond the big names in the credits.  The visuals are stunning and unique, with Dave McKean's hand clear in every scene.  The story may be a bit abstract and philosophical for some, but fans of Neil Gaiman's more retrospective writing will appreciate it.

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006, Guillermo del Toro)
It was a tough choice between this and Hellboy, but Pan’s Labyrinth’s depth, combined with its beautiful visuals, overcome my natural preference for lighter fare.  It is also the perfect vehicle for Doug Jones to show off his amazing ability to defy both physics and biology.

Pride and Prejudice (BBC Version) (1995, Sue Birtwistle, Julie Scott, & Michael Wearing Producers)
This is my one chick flick concession.  The story is timeless, and the intentionally long play time allows the director to cover plot points that are omitted in other versions.  Jennifer Ehle’s Elizabeth Bennet is deliciously sassy, while Colin Firth in period dress is the perfect eye candy.

The Princess Bride (1987, Rob Reiner)
Yes, I realize this is a cop-out.  But there are very few movies I can watch on loop, and this is one of them. Besides, I know I’m not the only one who can recite the “to the pain” speech from memory.

Some Like it Hot (1959, Billy Wilder)
I think this is probably the funniest movie of all time.  The dialogue absolutely sparkles, and Jack Lemon and Tony Curtis play their roles with just enough camp to be funny without going over the top. 

Spirited Away (2001, Hayao Miyazaki)

Sunday, May 20, 2012

The Frank Martin Mass



Now that Janacek is finally getting something resembling his due as the cosmic genius he is, there are a number of remaining candidates for Most Underrated Composer of the 20th Century. But surely Frank Martin is right near the top. He is in some ways a 1-note composer, using almost seraphic-sounding harmonies to create an ecstatic sound be his music instrumental or vocal - even during his 12-tone phase this remains true of him. But if he is a 1-noter, then so are all sorts of religious composers from Bach to Bruckner. As for the Mass for Double Choir, I would be hard-pressed to name a greater piece of 20th century music for unaccompanied chorus.

Quote of the Day

Jordan: Before wikipedia there was Evan.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Sight and Sound Movie List: Il Barone


Chungking Express (1994, Kar Wai Wong) – This film, probably more than any other I’ve seen, reinforces why I love movies so much. Its stylistic flourishes evoke the best of filmmakers like Godard, and the two different romantic stories in the film unfold at an exhilarating pace.



The Battle of Algiers (1966, Gillo Pontecorvo) – It’s hard to believe you aren’t watching an actual documentary when seeing this film. It’s gritty, visceral, and difficult to watch at times, but looking in the eyes of the characters, you feel like this is real. I think it is the best movie about terrorism, its roots, and its consequences that has ever been made.



The Conformist (1970, Bernardo Bertolucci) – This is a strange and surreal journey into Fascist Italy prior to World War II. Beautiful cinematography captures Bertolucci’s interpretation of the era, and the protagonist, Clerici, may be one of the most fascinating (and pitiful) character studies out there.



Barton Fink (1991, Joel Coen) – A farcical, yet honest look at the creative process and what is described as “the life of the mind.” I also think this is the Coen Brothers’ best homage to a particular era, as sometimes their attention to details outweighs the value of the film itself.



Apocalypse Now (1979, Francis Ford Coppola) – Most likely my favorite war movie of all time (and based on one of my favorite novels), it utilizes the Vietnam War as the perfect backdrop for looking at the process of how one is driven to madness. It contains a number of unforgettable scenes and images that are difficult to shake.



The Virgin Spring (1960, Ingmar Bergman) – The gold standard for the ultimate “revenge movie.” Max Von Sydow’s performance as a tortured father of a girl who is raped and murdered is just one of many highlights of this film. It’s still powerful today; I can only imagine the responses it elicited back in 1960.



Dead Man (1995, Jim Jarmusch) – I believe that the majority of Westerns fall into the “romantic” or “violent” portrayals of the Old West. But I like Dead Man’s portrayal; that the Old West was a bizarre era in history filled with strange people. I like the spiritual journey that unfolds in the film, and Neil Young’s instrumental soundtrack is perfect for the setting.



Blade Runner (1982, Ridley Scott) – Neo-noir at its finest, and I think, one of the best science fiction films of all time. The score by Vangelis fits in perfectly, and Rutger Hauer’s speech to Harrison Ford at the end of the film remains one of my favorite scenes of any film.



8 ½ (1963, Federico Fellini) – It’s probably best to watch this film a couple of times, because the first viewing might seem like an irreverent blur. It’s not just a “movie about making a movie,” but deals with issues that many men struggle with. The “harem” scene is one of the most accurate portrayals of what a strange dream is like (at least in my weird mind).



Reprise (2006, Joachim Trier) – This film is most famously known as a story about what being a struggling young writer is like, but the study of the relationship between the two friends is what makes this movie so good in my mind. It captures the best and worst of what it is like to live through our early and mid-20s.




Click Here for El Aguirre's List
Click Here for L'Olsen's List
Click Here for Der Mazur's List
Click Here for Der Miksic's List
Click Here for HaZmora's List
Click here for The Hicks's Epic List of the Awesomely Bad
Click here for Der Gronowski's List
Click here for The Hicks's List
Click here for La Kozak's List
Click here for Die Grimes's List
Click here for Richard Nixon's List
Click here for The McBee's List
Click here for Der Koosh's List





Friday, May 18, 2012

800 Words: For DFD (1925-2012)


(Schubert: Death and the Maiden)

If you really wanted to take in the scope of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau’s achievement, you would have to resort to hyperbole long before you did it justice. When you hear the epoch-making Schubert, Bach, Brahms, Mahler, Schumann, and Wolf lieder and compare them to any other singer of the early stereo era, you realize that this is the greatest lieder singer of his generation. When you hear his Verdi, Mozart, and Wagner – you may first bristle at the diction or the wrongness of the timbre, but then you hear the intelligence and thought he puts into each word and you realize that to rely on brains in such well-known operatic repertoire for which so many empty-headed singers coast on beautiful sounds makes him also the bravest singer of his time. And then you hear all the unfamiliar new composers he championed: Britten, Shostakovich, Hindemith, Berg, Barber, Henze, Hartmann, Krenek, Lutoslawski, Reger, Matthus, Zillig, Von Einem, Reimann, and Busoni – and you then realize he was also the most responsible singer of his day. It’s only then that you begin to realize that DFD was something above a mere generational figure – he was a once-in-a-lifetime gift to vocal music who can neither be replaced nor equalled.

(Bach: Ich habe genug)

I remember once that Professor Berard played us recordings from a couple songs of Schubert’s Die Schoene Mullerin cycle: one was of Sanford Sylvan, the other DFD. The tempos were virtually the same, but after the unaffected naturalness of a fine American singer, the professor put Fischer-Dieskau on, and every note, every word, even every vowel seemed to have its own interpretation. It seemed so mannered, so over-controlled that it was almost funny. Yet that too was a part of Fischer-Dieskau’s greatness – in the Age of Rock when anyone when anyone with a fine natural voice can be considered a great singer, Fischer-Dieskau might seem utterly mannered. But in the 1950’s and 60’s, when singers were recording thousands of unfamiliar lieder as though they were issued from a factory, DFD put the same incredible interpretive mind to the service of all that music he sung and compelled his listeners to listen all the more closely to the meaning of every song he recorded. No singer of the recorded era has ever made music mean more.

(Schubert: Du Bist der Ruh - stunning)

It couldn’t have been done without that voice – that voice! It wasn’t huge, at least it wasn’t until DFD completely overwhelmed my speakers with a passage of stentorian, Hotterian power. The range was baritone, but it had all the sharp overtones of a tenor and all the resonance of a bass. It had the kind of breath control that seemed to sing without a noticeable breath for minutes on end, and it seemed to achieve infinite dynamic gradations with no noticeable strain. In its way, it was as much a miracle as Pavarotti or Boris Christoff. What did he have to do to make it work like that? Is there a single singer today who can do with their voice what Fischer-Dieskau did with his?

(Richard Strauss: Morgen - just as beautiful)

And then there’s his influence. It’s thanks to DFD that the lieder recital itself still exists. Even in the age of the single and the album, it’s still possible in the world’s capitals for a great singer and a piano to sell out a big concert hall – just try and tell me that’s not utterly improbable; or that it couldn’t have been done without a truly great singer to remind music lovers what could still be achieved in the recital hall. Thanks to DFD, great classical singing is still not confined to the opera house. And just look at how many great baritones we have today: Terfel, Goerne, Hampson, Hrovotovsky, Leiferkus, Keenlyside, Finley, Gilfrey, and Quasthoff until recently– just to name those I can think of in the first 30 seconds. Today’s world doesn’t have many great Mezzos, or Tenors, or Basses, but Baritones it seems to have in infinite supply. Fischer Dieskau initiated a golden age for Baritones, all of whom are as influenced by him as they are different – each trying to carve their own individual path as distinct from DFD’s shadow as possible. No baritone (maybe Hampson…) dares over-interpret in Fischer-Dieskau’s manner anymore – in an age when music is more instinctive than intellectual, I suppose that’s appropriate, but I still can’t help thinking that something terrible’s been lost. It’s not appropriate to beat up today’s singers with yesterday’s, but one can’t help looking at it that way.

(Mahler: Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen)

So many of today’s opera singers sing on instinct, with barely a thought in their heads as to how they interpret. This might be forgivable if the average opera star’s technique were anywhere near the technical prowess of earlier eras. But so many of today’s opera singers have neither the technique nor the brains it takes to sing well – no wonder opera’s no longer popular with the public. Instead of singers acting with their voices as opera singers have been required to do for hundreds of years, opera in today’s world is controlled by theater directors who ostensibly do the singers’ interpretations for them. But why add the naturalism of the theater world when opera is already at the disadvantage of taking place in a universe where people sing rather than speak? Why add the spectacle of the movies when the opera stage is limited by how many times a set can change? Classical singing is what it is, and will lose to the other arts every time people try to make it more like another art. What opera and lieder has to offer the public is singers who, after years of constant toil, can draw the audience into a meaningful and unique synthesis of music, theater, and literature in which music always takes precedence – a synthesis that’s seems utterly pathetic when theater is given the biggest spotlight.

(Schumann: Ich Grolle Nicht)

Since his retirement, Fischer-Dieskau’s stock has fallen precipitously. To many singers today, he seems like a warning about the dangers of over-intellectualizing and over-interpretation. But no artist as great as DFD can remain forgot for long. Music lovers, true music lovers, will rediscover him. What remains unique about Fischer-Dieskau is not the amazing technique – it’s the aspirations to which he made that technique serve.  No singer, not even Callas or Schwarzkopf, wanted music to mean more than DFD did. And thanks to him, many people love Schubert, and Wolf, and Schumann, and Brahms, and hundreds of other composers, more than they would have had they never heard him.


(Brahms: O Tod, wie bitter bist du)

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Sight and Sound Movie List - El Aguirre


I was working to come up with a top-ten list of my favorite films and what I found was that several films on the list were related in one way or another. They could be connected by an actor or director, common theme, or via homage. I realized that my appreciation of each film could be enhanced by the other. So, I restructured my approach and I give you:

Ten movies you should watch back to back!

1. Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein

Blazing Saddles tells the story of Bart, the first black sheriff in the old west. What looks like a screwball comedy is actually a startling intelligent satire of American racism and ignorance during the civil rights era. Released at a time when many lead parts for black actors were in exploitation films this movie’s lead dared to be smart rather than tough. Watch out for the third act when the whole movie goes off the rails in ways that could never be expected or ever come close to being matched.

Young Frankenstein, filmed in glorious black and white, was the sarcastic send up too the dozens of classic monster movies. The grandson of the original Dr. Frankenstein battles the negative perceptions of his family’s experiments. He does so while also struggling with his own acceptance of his family history. Gene
Wilder stars as the doctor in what is the best performance of his career.

Why watch them back to back:

These two were the easiest to pick for this list because they are also tied for my all time favorite movies. Both released in 1974, these comedies represent two of the three collaborations between director/producer Mel Brooks and actor Gene Wilder, the other being the original 1968 version of The Producers. They
represent the some of the strongest work from both men’s body of work. They will both make you laugh until you cry.

2. Chinatown and Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Chinatown (1974) is the first of two detective films starring Jack Nicholson as J.J. Gittes, a film noir style privet investigator working in LA during the 1930s. JJ is hired to investigate a cheating husband and finds himself caught up in a plot that could change the face of LA forever. A great script and brilliant direction by Roman
Polanski (one of his last before fleeing the USA in 1978) cemented this as one of the best detective stories ever put on film. It has also been credited for making Jack Nicholson a major star.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1989) tells the story of Eddie Valiant, a Hollywood detective in a world where cartoon characters are living breathing people (or rabbits, or ducks, or what ever the hell else) just trying to make a living like anyone else. Often confused as a children’s movie because of the presence of cartoons as major characters, this movie is anything but. Sex, murder and infidelity are major themes wrapped around a plot that could change the face of LA forever (see what I did there?). It is dark and at times terrifying (Christopher Lloyd murders a cute anthropomorphic cartoon shoe. Why? Just because he is a jerk, that's why.) With smarter writing and higher production value that might be expected from a film with such a goofy premise, it remains a popular film twenty years after its release.

Why watch them back to back?

Chinatown and Roger Rabbit are so thematically and visually similar that the latter could have been a sequel to the former. Chinatown played such a major influence on the production of Roger Rabbit that to properly appreciate it you need to familiarize yourself with the source material. You will gain a much deeper appreciation and understanding for the silly cartoons that you laughed at as a kid.

3. Metropolis and The Terminator

Metropolis is an early example of science fiction on screen. From German director Fritz Lang and produced in 1927, Metropolis is about a future dystopia called Metropolis, where the wealth and excess luxuries of the rich are built on the backs of the poor, who are forced to live and work underground. The main plot revolves around two star-crossed lovers who are separated by their classes. The story also involves a mad scientist who uses the female of the pair to bring to life his greatest creation, a life like robot that wreaks havoc on the city. Visually striking, this silent era classic is still influencing the sci-fi genre to this day.

James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984) was the first major hit for the director who would go on to make some of the most successful movies of all time. This sci-fi action movie remains one of the gold standards that all other sci-fi action movies are compared to. You have probably seen this one (if not, why? What is your deal?) but if not, it is about a man sent back in time to protect the mother of a resistance fighter who will one day save the human race from an army of sentient machines. The main villain is a robot Arnold Schwarzenegger, in the role that made his career.

Why watch them back to back?

Because even though these movies are separated by decades they both showcase man’s tenuous relationship with technology. Both Lang and Cameron create worlds where a reliance on technology results in disaster. Both feature machines that look like people and try to overthrow society. Also, after watching a slow moving pre-WWII German film like Metropolis you may need some fast paced action to get you moving again. Unless you really love slow moving pre-WWII German films, in which case I recommend throwing on M, Lang’s 1931 film staring Peter Lorre.

4. Plan 9 from Outer Space and Ed Wood

Plan 9 (1959) is often called the worst movie ever made. With good reason. The plot makes little sense; aliens invade the Earth using a weapon that resurrects three dead people, and sometimes they fly around LA to just sort of let people know they are there. Thats pretty much the whole plan. You can see string on all of the flying saucers. One of the leads has an accent so thick you can’t understand a word he says. And, oh yeah, Bella Lugosi, who stars in the film, died before it even started production and was cut into the movie using old footage and a stand in who covered his face with a cape. Despite all of this, the movie is just a lot of fun. Its utter ridiculousness and camp make it the king of all late night B-movies.

Plan 9 has become such a favorite among fans of B-movies that the story of how it came to be is the plot of Tim Burton’s 1994 film Ed Wood. Staring Johnny Depp as the titular character (long before the pairing between the director and actor started going stale) Ed Wood tells the story of how a very unlikely group of
strange people came together to produce some of the worst movies ever made. Ed, a recently uncloseted transvestite with a dream of being a big name director, is inherently likable and has an inspiring enthusiasm for his work, no matter how bad he may be at it.

Why watch them back to back?

After watching Plan 9 I knew I loved it, but had a hard time putting my finger on why. Then I watched Ed Wood and knew. Because despite how quite terrible Plan 9 truly is, it certainly has heart. Burton explores the strange and comical relationships that lead to the creation of Wood’s most well known work. The
friendship formed between Wood and Lugosi also served as a parallel for Burton’s own relationship with Vincent Price at the end of his life. Like the relationship between Ed Wood and his friends these films really make each other make more sense.

5. Dead Alive (Brain Dead) and Lord of the Rings

Dead Alive is the schlockiest movie I have ever had the pleasure to devote 104 minutes of my life to. The 1992 gross-out comedy-horror zombie movie from New Zealand boasts one of the highest body counts ever put to film. Complete with a zombie sex scene resulting in a zombie baby (not the weirdest part, by far)
this one can hardly be explained, but should not be missed.

Lord of the Rings... you have seen/ heard of this series and there is no reason I should explain it to you. But here we go anyway. Lord of the Rings (2001-3) is one of the biggest film series ever made in pretty much every conceivable category. Adapted from JRR Tolkien’s epic fantasy series, Lord of the Rings made crazy
money and you probably own the DVD. Good choice, nerd.

Why watch them back to back?

Peter Jackson directed both of these. Yeah, five years after wrapping on Dead Alive, a gratuitously violent and disgusting low budget work ($3 million), Jackson started preproduction on one of the most ambitious and expensive ($280+ million) film projects of the late 20th/ early 21st century. You want to see versatility in a director, look no further than these two (ok, I mean four) projects. Put the two next to each other and outside the facts that they were both filmed in New Zealand and were helmed by Jackson, but are both brilliant in their own right.Well... actually Frodo does sort of look like the the zombie baby... hmmm....

Click Here for L'Olsen's List
Click Here for Der Mazur's List
Click Here for Der Miksic's List
Click Here for HaZmora's List
Click here for The Hicks's Epic List of the Awesomely Bad
Click here for Der Gronowski's List
Click here for The Hicks's List
Click here for La Kozak's List
Click here for Die Grimes's List
Click here for Richard Nixon's List
Click here for The McBee's List
Click here for Der Koosh's List