On Protest

Photo used under Creative Commons license. Taken by tarsandsaction.

Sorry my posting has been infrequent lately. It's partly due to news-weariness. Watch 20 minutes of something like "The Situation Room" and you'll know what news-weariness is. Sticking to sources like the New York Times tends to delay the onset of news-weariness, but it always strikes eventually.


It's times like these that I drop out of the blogosphere and try to avoid reading all the little "news hits". So this week's article is from the New Yorker. It's about the Keystone XL protest (which Tim attended). It's also about the contrast between the Keystone XL protest and the OWS protests. I don't much like critiquing the OWS protests, because its such a cliche response: "Yes I support the idea behind OWS but I don't like the way they're protesting."  Still I think this article makes some valuable points (along with being a little uplifting). 


For me the article is even more interesting because I marched with Jeremy and OWS the night before the protest. I felt kind of like someone named Garofalo in this other New Yorker piece. The article probably wouldn't be too instructive for you (as someone's who has directly observed the movement in New York). But this excerpt struck me:


Garofalo still found the drummers annoying, and the activists who dreamed of an alternate world of pure democracy, without rules, were not for him. Still, he now felt responsible for keeping Occupy Wall Street going.

Read the Keystone article (not the one with Garofalo) and see what you take from it about protest. Hopefully I'll shake this news sickness soon, and posting can return to normal.


http://www.newyorker.com/talk/comment/2011/11/28/111128taco_talk_mayer

Águas de Março

A quick deviation from the jazz post (both to test drop box and just to keep you filled in to what is on repeat for me)

Aguas de Marco was originally recorded in 1972 by Elis Regina and is considered one of the most famous Brazilian songs of all time. It has been rerecord and covered a countless number of times and each artist likes to put their own personal touch on the song. The version I am giving to you is performed by Joao Gilberto (male vocals and guitar) Stan Getz (Saxaphone) and Heloisa Buarque de Hollanda (female vocals) Joao and Getz were buds with Joao being a pioneer of Bossa Nova and Getz being an icon of jazz music (I will get to him specifically later in the jazz post) Interestingly enough this song was supposed to be recorded with Gilberto's first wife but she was not invited to the recording session and instead Buarque (Gilberto's second wife) took her place.

Joao Gilberto is apparently noted for changing the tempo and pacing of the song significantly in his renditions opting for a more sped up tempo as opposed to Regina's original which was a little more slow and intimate. What is so striking about this piece though is the full force of all three artists. Each is distinct but they all work together seamlessly.

Personally I can't help but be drawn to the English vocals. Something about the poetry in the words that make up this song that really gets me at a deeply emotional level. The elements of these lyrics can't really be categorized as happy or sad. They can really only be described has "beautiful" The obvious statement is that alone these little phrases mean nothing but together they create a thing of true beauty. I don't know what force inspired Regina to bring these things together but in my opinion it is pretty perfect. I can't really think of any lyrical element that I would take away or add. Even more amazing is how well these lyrics work both in English and in Portuguese.

Gilberto's verses are of course a delight in their own way. It is a combination of the speed at which he is singing and the boyish mumble with which he is delivering all of these gorgeous lyrics that adds up to be really powerful and charming.  There is something to be said for singers like Frank Sinatra that can just boom songs of love from their mouths without a hint of reservation but there is also something in the honest timidity and intimacy that Gilberto projects. In any case it works perfectly as bookends for Buarque's vocals.

Given the nature of the song and how powerful the lyrics are it would seem like Getz is at something of a disadvantage as he is bound to the saxophone. Due to Getz's mastery of the instrument this is obviously not the case. I know I preached the beauty of Buarque's spoken words but at the end of the day it is Getz that I hear in my head. When I first heard it I had a knee jerk reaction of rejecting the saxophone. I imagine I had become so engulfed in the vocals that I didn't anticipate the mechanical rasp of Getz. By the end of the song I realized just how perfect that breaking of the pace is. Because of the distinct difference that the saxophone provides it adds and extra layer to the song itself. The saxophone serves as an overarching element that binds the song together like some kind of cloud that hovers above the two vocalists or a narrator that is able to summarize the feelings of the two. The masterstroke of this song is probably the moment where Getz cuts in on Gilberto's last words in the verse. It sounds less like a rude interruption and more a transformation from actor to narrator. It is like a shift from the actual events of the song to a dissertation or summary. Of course it only adds to the effect that Getz sounds so imperfect with his instrument. That rasp in his saxophone helps it sound less like an emotionless machine of brass and more like a natural extension of Getz himself.

All in all I believe this is a wonderful song and for right now it serves as a sort of escape. a brief moment of happiness during tough times.  I think it might have that effect you talk about with songs like Suspended From Class by Camera Obscura or Thee Oh So Protective One by Girls.
 

 







Hopefully you got the song and lemme know what you think.

The Jazz Post

(So I think I will be constantly updating this particular post every time I add a new musician so be sure to check back occasionally) 

Jazz music was once considered indescribable.  How do you put a definition on something like this? Who would be so soulless as to try and tack on a hard meaning to a movement based around ingenuity, based around spontaneity. Jazz was meant to be an art form that was as a fluid and yet able to nail not only the emotions of sadness or delight but every step that a person could take in between; sometimes all within the same song. After a while people realized that the words we used to say that jazz could not be defined did just that. It wasn’t like a mystery was revealed but the movement just kind of congealed to the general public.

Regardless the question still remains, especially for our generation, how does one “listen” to jazz music? Among my friends here I often hear jazz described as “classy” music or that listening to jazz makes them feel like too fancy. Perhaps it is due to the inherent old world association they have with jazz or due to the various jazz collections in their parents CD and record library.  To me this is a very sad pretense for people to carry. All in all it limits people’s perspective on jazz and causes them to inherently write it off as novelty. It is my personal opinion that jazz is a unique musical art form not due to it’s culture of inventiveness or it’s embodiment of freeform artistic creation. Jazz is a unique as an artistic vehicle for transposing an individual’s emotions and personality into song. 

So with that in mind I shall begin the delving into jazz music, particularly that of late 50s and 60s era jazz. I shall break down for you some of the greats of the field and fill you in on a little bit of their personal life and how that comes through in their music. Like I said, every jazz musician is unique in and of himself. They may be using the same instruments but the great jazz players are able to force their own style and personality to the point where no two jazz players are alike. Of course, I want you to keep an ear out for the things I mention about each musician but also I would like to hear your personal take on their music as well. Often times it seems no two people hear jazz the same way.

 Without further ado lets dive in to Jazz starting with the crown prince himself….

Duke Ellington

Duke Ellington may be the perfect jazz musician. In any event he is often regarded as the best. He is something of a granddaddy of that 50s 60s jazz era that I hold so dear to my heart. If you had talent in the jazz world, eventually, inevitably you were going to be compared to Duke. Of course that was a comparison of the highest honor. In all of Duke's songs, true to his character, there never seemed to be a hair out of place. Both on stage and off Duke was regarded as kind with an air of control that flowed naturally from him. Of what little I know about Duke's personal life, compared to his peers in the field, he is squeaky clean. In a career path associated with drug abuse, sleepless night after night, self doubt and constant pressure in social life, society and the professional world Duke fared remarkably well. He lived to the age of 75 (fucking forever compared to some of his contemporaries) and from what I know he had no prevailing issue with drugs or alcohol (fucking impossible compared to some of his contemporaries) The guy even married his high school flame at the age of 19. For all of these reasons Duke was a hit both among jazz musicians and the general public at large. When looking at his track record, his instrumental talent and most of all the compositions he wrote it is no wonder that Duke is often considered one of the greatest American musicians, jazz or otherwise.

Duke was probably the first jazz musician I ever heard. My dad would often blast Black and Tan Fantasy on Sunday mornings as he did chores or cooked breakfast. Chronologically, this song carries a vibe closer to the 40s era jazz with the grainy sound quality, the moaning and croaking instruments and the slow and loping pace. Duke's music would soon take on a more contemporary sound as the times changed but Black and Tan is a great opening sojourn into jazz music. Even with its fairly limited options it paints a vivid landscape both to your ear and in your mind.

Day Dream and Prelude to a Kiss are probably two of my favorite Duke Ellington songs. I am a sucker for jazz ballads and down tempo and Duke just slays it with these two. Of course, as I have said before, Duke slays it in anything he puts his mind to. Perhaps the reason these two songs are so dear to me is because Duke manages to squeeze the very essence of the ballad out of these. They are soft without being pathetic and just varied enough that it doesn't feel like just going around in a mopey circle. Prelude perhaps as a little more depth and versatility than Day Dream but I turn to mush every time that piano intro to Day Dream comes on, or when that quivering trumpet begins its lonely march.

I know I have praised Duke's abilities as a composer and I feel like I should back it up. As we begin to trek through these musicians you are going to see Duke's songs pop up a lot. Every now and then a musician is going to want to have a ball and see how they fare toe to toe with the Duke. For one reason or another the song that I see emulated more than any other is Take the A Train. For some reason this song is just a prime target for recreation. That opening is immediately recognizable, the beat of the song is flexible and can be manipulated without losing the final product and the composition is perfectly balanced. No one instrument or section seems to overpower the other. From the very beginning, Ellington nails that mood of those fast paced commutes through the underground of New York (ones we are all too familiar with by now) and from then on he lets the song breathe until each section of his orchestra has had its share.

If I have one qualm with Duke then it is that he is "too perfect" It may seem like a cliche but a lot of the greatest jazz musicians were egged on by their short comings. It was their quirks and the eccentricities that powered their music and Duke really seems to be free of that. In that one regard I would say I tire quickly of Duke. All of the compositional talent in the world can't save you from being a little on the dull side. It is rare that I will listen to an Ellington record all the way through these days. I usually just pick out one or two songs that meet my fancy and then move along. In future musicians you will hear what difference strife and internal conflict can make in a song. Especially when musicians cover Duke. Perhaps this is what keeps him at his granddaddy status. Duke is very much rooted in the 40s era of jazz and simply did not face the same issues of the rising 50s and 60s musicians. His music is the pristine stepping stone that other greats began to base their career off of. Maybe it would be nice if Duke had and edge but someone has to be the Jazz Constant. Without Duke we might not know what a clean and unaddled composition would sound like.

For better or worse, that's Duke.

Ben Webster

 Remember how I said Duke's music was pristine jazz in that it didn't have any distinctive aspects be they good or bad? Well I would say that the distinctive aspect of Webster's music is love.  Ben is affectionately referred to as "The Brute" in jazz culture. One listen to one of Webster's ballads and you will quickly realize just how much of a joke that nickname is. Ben is a big man and apparently he wasn't a stranger to a fight or two in his time but on the tenor sax he is as gentle as they come. Every note Webster squeezes out on that thing is practically dripping with love. He isn't timid, Ben can hold one hell of a solo and keep everyone captivated, but his music isn't grandiose like he is. It commands a room without shouting and somehow remains intimate the entire time as if he was playing for a specific loved one. Ben's pace too seems loving. He ambles his way through his songs, you can feel his weight as he strolls from one note to the next. He takes his time but the songs don't suffer from it. The listener instead is allowed to sit upon each individual note and absorb all of that emotion and weight for themselves.

Ben spent a large amount of his later life traveling abroad in Europe (and he would later die there) He was known to enjoy just playing his instrument on the street for the hell of it. For the joy of some random passerby that wanted a listen. In these ways Ben's personality was just as loving and affectionate as his music itself.

The Arrow Collar Man or The Myth of The Distinguished Gentleman

I have an hour to kill so im going to do a quick response post to your last comment.

You mentioned your interest in the work of Leyendecker. You described his subjects as looking "distinguished"

In doing that you have essentially validated Leyendecker's work itself. In the early 1900s Leyendecker was hired by the Arrow Collar company. This is back when our shirt collars were sold separately from our shirts (which, might I say, was a GENIUS albeit inadvertent retail aspect) To sell their collars Arrow had the idea to invent the perfect customer. The ideal man. The Arrow collar man had to be distinguished. He had to be a representation of the perfect man of the times. He had to seem thoughtful without seeming aloof, confident without showing arrogance and worldly while being down to earth. Men had to look at the Arrow Collar Man not with envy. They were not meant to resent his perfection but rather strive to attain it.

The real kicker to all of this is of course the fact that the Arrow Collar Man is just not real. Society was striving to imitate an invention. Ironically, even though the Arrow Man was considered the ideal man of the time, the model for every illustration was Leyendecker's lover Charles Beach. Perhaps this is the reason illustration will always have a place in the advertising world. You just can't quite lie with a photograph like you can with an illustration. So anyways, lets spend some time in appreciation of the Arrow Collar Man and his many iterations.

Here he is dancing with a gorgeous woman that he could give less than two shits about. He seems more concerned that her nail polish will leave a stain on his white gloves. On that note, how was there a time where it was "cool" for guys to wear gloves to a formal event for the ENTIRE night? How would women not immediately think that was fucking creepy?

Ok this is hilarious. This to me is the 1920s equivalent to surrounding yourself with a bunch of guitars and saying that obviously you love music. First of all, his finger is place-holding at the very front of the book. Second, what is he so distressed by? What act of casual reading leaves someone with so much concern? I guess more importantly; what did you read in the first page of your book that caused you to stop and think like this? Jarring publishing information? I wont even bother asking why he decided to sit on top of his desk. My guess is that his absurdly ornate desk cost him so much he couldn't afford a chair.

This one wasnt for Arrow but it has to be brought up. It depicts a young man dressed in a full suit playing a four string banjo on what appears to be a headstone. Need I say more?

 Ok, Leyendecker loves this fantasy world where two gentlemen are setting in a lavishly decorated room together, engaged in almost impossibly mundane tasks and seemingly oblivious to each other's presence. What happened in your hangout that thoroughly inspecting golf clubs was the most engaging activity you could conjure up. Also, what the fuck is that guy wearing? Double breasted? Really? He looks like he is about to go on a fancy safari.



Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this brief Arrow Collar Man retrospective.

The Best and The Brightest

Originally, I was going to link you to an article from the Rolling Stone on Bloomberg's comment that Congress created the financial crisis. But that was almost a week ago now, and I wanted to give you something about the growing inequality debate. 

So recently the CBO released a report detailing the recent rise in inequality. It pointed out that between 1979 and 2007 the income of the top 1 percent of households rose 275 percent, while the income of the bottom 20 percent rose by only 18 percent. You would think the natural reaction these numbers would be "Wow, the wealth of our society is going disproportionately to the wealthiest Americans. We have a problem with economic inequality in our country." But alas, the response of many on the right was to try and obfuscate the situation. Most egregiously, a writer for the American Enterprise Institute simply called income inequality a myth. Other conservative writers tried to make it out to be a problem between college grads and non-college grads (it's not). 

That brings me to the piece I want to show you. It's by Ross Douthat, who I'm really not a fan of. His piece doesn't directly address the issue of inequality, which is one reason it caught my eye. He seems deny the issue of inequality without even mentioning it explicitly, writing at one point of our "meritocratic era," as if the CBO piece didn't tell us anything. The two redeeming aspects of this piece in my mind are 1. an implicit reference to "The Best and the Brightest" by David Halberstam, and 2. the acknowledgment that Bachmann and Cain are ignorant and incompetent. Enjoy.

Double Time

Sorry for the delay ive been a little distracted lately but to make up for it im gonna give you a double starting with the art of David Stone Martin.

The late forties and early fifties was a time of great change for illustration. For the first time we start to see a breakdown of an adherence to a specific "style" of illustration. Before this time illustrators would tend towards one specific style usually set by the prominent illustrators of the time. For example, prior to this time period most illustrators stayed glued to a style like Cole Phillips where the illustrations were realistic and the illustrator played with colors. Before that we had the golden age of illustration where people styled their work like J.C. Leyendecker where illustrations are very realistic and the pallets tend more towards beige and browns. I could go on but I think you get the idea.

Anyways, the fifties was a time when publishers began to accept more independent and varying styles of art like that of Mr. Martin's. Most illustrators styles will reflect the type of work they are getting; for example many famous illustrators before this time found their success with The Saturday Evening Post and thus their illustrations were wholesome and conservative. Martin's calling was jazz album covers and there couldn't be a better match. Like the music itself Martin's covers are spontaneous, personal, inspired, vibrant and yet somehow reserved and nearly chaotic but beautiful all the while. They could be accused of breaking the rules if it all didn't come together so damn well. There is an element of the unknown as if Martin himself wasn't in control of his materials the whole while but one glance at the full body of his work and you would understand it was all part of the plan. Nothing could more accurately describe jazz music itself.

As I have mentioned to you before I have been on something of a jazz bender lately (which has no signs of letting up) and Martin's work is the perfect visual accompaniment to that. Martin was a master of his art; an optical embodiment of the subjects he worked on and he helped open the door for the contemporary field of illustration as we know it and I am proud to share him with you.

As for the double...

So the next post I do will probably be a pretty massive one. I plan on bringing you up to speed with some of the great forces of 50's and 60's jazz. It is a time where pretty much all of the giants of the field were all alive and aware of each other (able to compete and inspire one another) With so much talent in the field everyone sought to differentiate themselves though this often just came naturally. With each musician comes a character personified not only by their actions but by their music itself.  In preparation I suggest you make a Grooveshark account so that you can easily store the music I will be throwing at you.

Before that however, I want you to listen to a little pre-jazz tune. Blue music sprang up as early as the turn of the 20th century and is considered the father of both jazz music and rock and roll. Over the years the Blues went through many varying iterations but the one I am hooked on is known as Pre-War Blues that came from the South in the 20's. Bessie Smith is a veritable queen of this sub-genre of Blues and made her fame behind her stunning voice.

A Mississippi Moan is a fine example of just how powerful that voice was. It is a song that speaks to a deep and constant sadness. One that may not be egregious or aggressive but is there at every turn and follows you no matter what path you may take. When you think you may have gotten away it still clings to the fabric of your socks, collecting in the small spaces in your shoes. The only redeeming aspect of this world steeped ankle-deep in the "muddy water" is Smith's voice as she belts out this tune. While Smith conveys sadness she is in no way destroyed. Times may be tough but she is tougher and whether she got that way from growing up in a life of muddy water or if she just happens to be the right woman for the circumstance does not matter. The important part is that she serves as an island for the rest of us when our own waters get too deep handle.  

A Mississippi Moan - Bessie Smith