Consume Your Symptom!

“Never mind my fruit comes from Chile, as long as it’s cheap and tastes good” is but one particular kind of consumer glut: the “out of sight, out of mind” theory, adopted for its vividness last year by the International Counsel for Responsible Spending (Icarus).* In their most recent publication, Icarus named several other kinds of similar negligent spending attitudes (most dealing with transportation, i.e., oil), which, according to their research, accounts for a great deal of international animosity towards America. The “blind” and voracious nature of American consumerism has led to many international conflicts involving resources, territory and military action.

Countries have thus compared America to the Roman Empire, whose glut was best exemplified by gross exhibitions of wealth, like the gladiatorial contests of the Coliseum (also Colosseum). The Colosseum played host to many spectacles, most notably Emperor Trajan’s lavish celebration of his victories in Dacia (107 A.D.), which involved “11,000 animals and 10,000 gladiators over the course of 123 days.”

Yeah. But what does this have to do with critiquing critics?

[John Corigliano’s Third Symhpony], "Circus Maximus", promises to be fun: Corigliano compares the decadent ancient Roman entertainment district to our modern glut of cable television channels and reality TV.

I’ll let David Hurwitz explain:

My only wish is that Corigliano didn't take himself quite so seriously: to equate the slaughter and mayhem of Roman entertainment to, say, the Real Housewives of New Jersey surely is pushing the comparison too far.

I dunno. Parading wealthy women bumbling through life on television for all to laugh at is pretty ghastly.

Figure 1. Training kids to buy oil (and it’s fun!)

Anyway, political/allegorical/satirical pieces are nothing new. So what’s the problem? That Corigliano’s too serious? Or is it that music is ultimately supposed to be pleasurable and not challenging?

Moreover, it runs the risk of sounding snobbish (not the music, the [program] notes).

I think it’s safe to say that “classical” music connoisseurs are already kinda snobbish. So I’m sure no one will mind.

Remember, when Ives did this sort of thing it was the popular tunes and other found objects that he was celebrating, and the classical tradition that he was thumbing his nose at (with good reason).

Not to be ignored, he also had a very healthy streak of political derision and sarcasm. Goddamned thieves?

Anyway, that's not really important: what matters is that this is good music whatever its inspiration...

And if Corigliano is being a bit provocative, it's never at the expense of your basic enjoyment.

Without pulling out the whole Zizek-jouissance thing, we’ve come to another, yet equally problematical paradox.

It seems that the guy pitching (critiquing) “serious” music is also the guy who doesn’t want it to be too serious—“above all it must be enjoyable.” So, those very program notes, which are gravely imperative to understanding the piece, are cast aside by the author in favor of “blind” enjoyment. This, in turn, results in positive advocacy—the music critic’s equivalent of buying fruit from Chile.

*Icarus is wholly fictional.
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You're Lovin' It!

Here’s a nice enough idea:

The Redlands Symphony Orchestra will celebrate America's contribution to music…

Hmm. What is America’s contribution to music? For now, just keep that in mind. It’ll be important later on.

…in their season's final concert Saturday night, offering a program of American and Americana works. The program features Morton Gould's "American Salute," the Overture to "On the Town" by Leonard Bernstein, Aaron Copland's "Appalachian Spring" and Symphony No. 2 "Romantic" by Howard Hanson.

I am especially happy to see they’re programming Gould and Hanson, two very undeservedly neglected composers. I mean, there are names other than Gershwin, Bernstein, Copland, and Barber, don’t you know? Still, I can’t shake the feeling that orchestras are a small part of a mega-conglomerate that makes and sells American flags and, sometimes, Russian flags.

Anyway, let’s hear more about this promising concert.

"It's like splitting hairs lengthwise…

Plot twist: In case you were thinking I was going to take to task the author of this review, think again. The conductor, asked for some quips to fill some space in this Press-Enterprise puff piece, potentially errs in some way, or…uh, lengthwise.

"It's like splitting hairs lengthwise to distinguish between American and Americana," said conductor Jon Robertson as he discussed the program's composers […]

Well then. Distinguish away!

"Americana music reflects the American sound, usually with some elements of folk music or rhythmic music like jazz -- jazz being the American contribution to music."

Ah ha! So that’s the American contribution to music—jazz. Good to know.

To Robertson, the Hanson symphony is a good example of strictly American music…
So it’s nothing but folk music and jazz?

…that is, music composed by an American in a European style and structure.

Oh. So a touch of folk music or jazz is Americana (suspiciously nationalistic, if you ask me) and music written by an American is American. I’ll buy these distinctions. You?

To me, however, this is the first weird juncture. According to Mr. Robertson, America’s contribution to music was jazz and symphonic composers used jazz in their music. Fine. But let me ask this: why not go see jazz instead? Why should I pay to see watered-down American jazz or folk in a European-instituted venue? Besides, as the conductor of a symphony, aren’t you supposed to promote your organization?

Personally, I’m hardcore; gimme the good stuff.

"Copland -- now, that is clearly Americana, with the beautiful Shaker tune of 'Simple Gifts,' " said Robertson. "And Bernstein, too, is Americana with all the jazzy elements. The Gould piece is another example as it takes the tune of 'Johnny Comes Marching Home Again' and orchestrates it into a big piece."

There is some dispute whether or not “Johnny” is in fact American. So…

There.

Robertson asserts that you can't hear that sound in other countries' music. "If you do, they copied it from us."

We most certainly hear jazz in other countries’ music. And by definition it’s still Americana.

But what I find odd about this whole “who copied who?” business are the arbitrary lines one must draw when making this assertion. Does borrowing a V-I cadence constitute copying from European music? What about all the American composers who have appropriated “Sheep May Safely Graze?” Are they copycats? On the flip side, I wonder if any Austrian critics boast that American composers still write for the string quartet.

Robertson has a theory about why Americana music is so appealing to listeners.

Yikes! Non sequitor. [abruptly shifts gears] Still, this has to be entertaining, given the above theorizing.

"Back in the time when avant garde music…

Here we go again.

"Back in the time when avant garde music was all that was being composed for orchestras, the listeners rejected it in droves.

Correction: Back in the fictitious time when avant garde music was all that was being composed for orchestras…

“At the same time [sic?], people were going to the movies and hearing beautifully accessible music written by highly-trained European composers who the film houses brought to America.

FYI Mr. Robertson: “beautifully accessible music” means that the accessibility was beautiful. I doubt that’s what you meant.

“These composers weren't just hacks. Without realizing it, film-goers were hearing really good music, and responding to it."

So it’s appealing because people liked it? Well that sounds like a wristwatch-challenged argument.

According to Robertson, Americana music fits naturally with the ear.

That’s the theory? It fits naturally with the ear? What the fuck does that mean?

"When you hear Copland or Bernstein, you just naturally enjoy it. It's really in the ear," he said.

Oh that clarifies everything. [snicker]

Listen. The point I’m try to articulate is that Mr. Robertson is promoting something that I think is somewhat detrimental to the health of American music. And I don’t think it’s completely unfair to draw a metaphor from the fast food industry.

Here’s what I mean: Big Macs are bad for you—we all know that. But they’re engineered in such a way that you can’t resist them. They’ve got all the goodies that we find naturally appealing: tons of fat and tons of sugar.

Instead, maybe that’s the defining characteristic of Americana.
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