As maybe a corollary to our recent Rock Aldas and Grouchos thread, I’ve been thinking about a few instances of musical and other artistic performances and works that almost singlehandedly justified an entire genre that never previously appealed to me – and that may cause me some pause to this day.
One of my favorite Lenny Bruce bits from his Carnegie Hall Concert album begins with the self-confessed jazz afficianado talking about this relatively new genre of rock ‘n roll. He says that he doesn’t dig most of it, slipping in a mocking chorus of “Yackety Yack,” but that there’s one song out called “Spanish Harlem.” He asks his audience if they’ve ever heard it, quoting the opening verse. “It’s so pretty,” he says. This one rock ‘n roll song has clearly opened his mind to the fact that the genre may contain other gems. Dig?
Tonight, after the kids went to bed, my wife reminded that I could catch the end of the Vincente Minelli-Gene Kelly-Leslie Caron masterpiece, An American in Paris. I quickly turned it on just in time to catch the mindblowing, long fantasy sequence that ends the movie, a scene that chokes me up in recognition of its beauty just thinking about it. Sure enough the sequence got me for at least the 25th time. I’m not a big fan of dance and choreography by any means, but Gene Kelly is by far the one dancer I love seeing in action. He’s so athletic, not showy. I can appreciate him as an athlete more than an “entertainer.” Likewise, the fantasy ballet sequence that brings home An American in Paris strikes me as a work of art that fully expresses the emotional content of the film. It’s not some stitched-in talent show piece, as I find most dance sequences, even in the better musicals. The Gershwin music with the choreography and the choreographed camera work speak to me like no other dance sequence I’ve ever seen. Only Saturday Night Fever‘s big dance to “More Than a Woman” comes remotely close to speaking to me on any level.
Those of you who know me and know my complete lack of interest in dance and musicals may agree with my wife that my love for An American in Paris is the most surprising thing that I love.* I’m still shocked myself, but as I told her, that scene is so pretty and well done that, for me, it singlehandedly justifies the entire art of choreography. It’s the only thing that keeps my mind open even a sliver to the possibility that any other piece of choreography I’ll ever see might contain a shred of worthwhile storytelling and emotional content. I’m still a complete oaf when it comes to appreciating choreographed dance, but at least I’m willing to believe it has a place in the arts.
I’ve been wondering if there’s an equivalent for me in music, a single performance, artist, album, or song that opened my mind to the notion that an entire genre I’d previously not liked one bit might actually have some merit. Opera, for instance, is a genre I can’t stand. I simply hate that style of singing. There was, however, one album I heard working in a bookstore in the early ’80s featuring some famous Spanish opera guy, that was pretty good. I don’t think it was an opera, per se, but it was done in that style of singing. Then there’s that brief home movie sequence in Raging Bull, with an excerpt from some Italian opera. This instrumental exceprt is a beautiful piece of music, and although I’ve yet to hear it in full context of the opera – not to mention with operatic singing, which I fear would ruin it – it’s the ONLY segment of opera music that has ever opened my mind to the possibility that the ENTIRE genre might not suck.
Another example, for me, is Tammy Wynette‘s “D-I-V-O-R-C-E.” Although I’ve since opened my mind to the notion that there’s a bit of country music that I can directly like without feeling like I’m donning a lab coat and sucking on my pipe, I will always credit that song with being the one country song that kept hope alive and that, to this day, continues to allow me to listen to a dozen or so country songs each year in hopes of finding another winner.
How about you? Do you have a justifiable performance to credit for providing you with just enough motivation to occasionally revisit a genre of music you’ve never embraced?
*Do I have a thing for Parisian art scene-based musicals? The other most surprising work of art that I love is the movie Moulin Rouge. Could SCTV’s Lust for Paint, which made me laugh until I cried as a teen, have fueled this uncharacteristic romantic streak?
Come back! Get out! Come back! Get out and come back!
I couldn’t get enough of them throwing obvious stuffed figures around either as though they were still the actors. Yes we know YOU know it’s fake, but it’s even funnier that we all know it.
John Coltrane’s My Favorite Things got me to listen to some more modern jazz stuff, but without any success. I need more 12 tone-based melody. The approach just seems too haphazard to work often enough for me to enjoy it, even though I understand there’s more to it than that.
One day, my art will be exhibited in the Lou-vrre-rre-rrrre!
For me the most compelling part of “Lust for Paint” was Catherine O’Hara’s bawdy Parisian whore outfit. As a pathetic young 20-something with a huge teevee-lust crush on the woman, the rare sight of those delightful cans presented in that fashion was extremely pleasing.
But you’re not looking for that kind of insight, are you? Let’s see… there have been lots of “gatekeeper” artists, but that’s not what you’re seeking, is it? You want to know what genres I still don’t like, that I acknowledge might not totally suck by virtue of the performances of a single artist. Hmm.
Not sure this counts, or is a particularly good example, but I’ve never been able to stomach the hyper-Kentonism of prog rock. I bought the Lily’s “The 3-Way” years ago, and it struck me as compelling stuff, despite the fact that there was very little difference — in terms of hyper-kentonism/over-stuffed arrangement/plot-losing melody and time shifts — between it and, say, Yes. And I liked it! So, maybe, I can spare a pleasant thought or two for that generally useless genre, thanks to Kurt Heasley and Co.
Does that count?
Coltrane’s “My Favorite Things” is a good one, mockcarr, and it’s what first turned me onto any type of jazz. My challenge, since then, has been learning how to appreciate the 12-tone-based melodic stuff, with chord changes and the like. Very slowly I can appreciate that earlier approach as well.
Hrrundi asked:
EXACTLY! Thanks for ensuring that this topic is clear to all.
Watching Marnie Stern perform live at KFN this year made me think that metal might have some artistic value after all.
As a musician and one who has studied music, I’ve never been a fan of opera. I like some passages and there are musical moments within opera that I appreciate, but for the most part, I dislike it.
I have writer friends that feel this way about poetry. I have to agree, but there are some poets that I’ve read which give me faith in the genre. Anne Sexton being one. Give me a straight ahead story any old day.
I have not nor can I find any redeeming qualities in new age music.
TB
Poetry is pretty damned useful for someone writing lyrics, though.
I disagree, mockcarr. For example I think that Dylan is a great songwriter, but he’s a lousy poet. Has anyone here tried to read Tarantula? How about any of the crap that served as liner notes to his records? But that’s probably just me justifying my hatred of poetry and my love of songwriting.
TB
Lyrics are poetry if there’s no music playing.
If that last line doesn’t get Wallace storming back onto the site, nothing will.
No, mockcarr. You’re probably right. It’s just my own weird justification/resolution. I write songs, but I could never force my stupid lyrics on anybody to try to pass it off as “poetry” without the music. But certainly something even as simple as “Yesterday” could be considered poetic by any standards. Rave on, John Donne.
TB
When I saw the movie Cabaret, I remember being powerfully impressed. But I still avoid Liza Minelli, Michael York, Joel Grey, and Broadway musicals in general whenever possible, so it wasn’t a gateway drug.