Monday, March 29, 2010
The evolution of Lucia
This woman just brutally murdered her newly wedded husband on their wedding night in a fit of misguided rage. She is Lucia from Lucia di Lammermoor, an 1835 dramatic opera by Gaetano Donizetti.
This alone would normally be enough to captivate my interest long enough to blog about Opera, but then I found this version of the same Lucia aria, by Russian singer Vitas
A masculine soprano, indeed. Minus the blood but added the bling. Yet it ends not here. I then discovered that the alien opera performance from the 1997 sci-fi The Fifth Element draws directly from Lucia.
From early 19th century Italian performances, to the tentacle headed blue alien (non Nav'i) version, the opera remains effective through it's key feature: the voice. Called Bel Canto, meaning literally 'beautiful voice' in Italian, the vocal style found commonly in opera is the focal point of the performance, often driving narrative and putting homophonic instrumentation in a very supporting role.
As you can see, as evidenced by all performances of Lucia throughout the galaxy, the singer's range is used quite extensively. Bel Canto relies on the expert legato (Italian: tied together) of movement throughout the vocal range.
Il Dolce Suono, the title of the above performances, is what is known as an aria. In the operatic style, vocal performances are typified as either recitative (lyrics sung in order to advance the plot, in imitation of speech), or arias. The aria allows a single voice to express in a more structured style than recitation, giving it the ability to convey an important theme or emotion in the opera.
In these arias, the vocal performers may often embellish upon the written score heavily; compare Vita's to the first video, a Natalie Dissay performance. These embellishments, small trills, placed vibratos, timed emphases, allow the aria performance to be the star attraction; a showcase of the Bel Canto abilities of the headlining voice, and the reason the drama is dramatic; the comedy, comedic. It's what makes opera work. Even Bruce Willis was moved.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Avatar
James Cameron's Avatar is the highest grossing movie of all time. It is also the longest movie in existence. Well, the second thing may not be true but it is really long, and in it is about 3 hours of original music by composer James Horner.
Being about a skinny blue race of arboreal shamanistic aliens, called Navis, the movie's composer was able to create an entire music culture from scratch. This clip is a medley of the score:
You can easily tell that the music implies certain things about the Navi by using types of existing music and sounds that we have already given 'earthly' correlations to. For example, the use of African tribal-type drumming is prevalent in the Navi portions of the score. Also, the contrast with the music played during the scenes involving the film's villains (a militaristic mining company) gives the impression that the Navi aliens are definitely the good guys. Compare the different types of drum used to divide the two archetypes:
The militaristic, heavy drum pattern and chordophones succeed in sounding as warlike as the film's villains need to be, while the hand clapping, tribal drumming, and vocal chorus (sung in actual Navi) makes the watcher well aware that the alien race is quite spiritual, a bit ethereal, and much more wholesome than the former.
Being about a skinny blue race of arboreal shamanistic aliens, called Navis, the movie's composer was able to create an entire music culture from scratch. This clip is a medley of the score:
You can easily tell that the music implies certain things about the Navi by using types of existing music and sounds that we have already given 'earthly' correlations to. For example, the use of African tribal-type drumming is prevalent in the Navi portions of the score. Also, the contrast with the music played during the scenes involving the film's villains (a militaristic mining company) gives the impression that the Navi aliens are definitely the good guys. Compare the different types of drum used to divide the two archetypes:
The militaristic, heavy drum pattern and chordophones succeed in sounding as warlike as the film's villains need to be, while the hand clapping, tribal drumming, and vocal chorus (sung in actual Navi) makes the watcher well aware that the alien race is quite spiritual, a bit ethereal, and much more wholesome than the former.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
The Goat's Blues
Introduction
Dallas, Texas has long been a hub of Blues music in America. With a pedigree of blues performers spanning the 20th century such as Blind Lemon Jefferson, T-Bone Walker, and the later Stevie Ray Vaughan, Dallasites are among the privileged few to claim the ancestral birthplace of a music culture. The richness of Dallas blues history allows us a good deal of perspective when we attempt to analyze the smaller communities and niches in which Blues music has maintained it's relevancy. The East Dallas dive bar The Goat remains one of these bastions of an often considered bygone musical era, and with that, a unique opportunity to observe the ideas about Blues that have allowed it to maintain it's relevancy and thrive in Dallas.
Methodology
The main body of data collected to create this analysis is fieldwork. Because this music culture is so small and currently active, there is little or no actual data or observation concerning it in terms of description. Many of the ideas presented in this work reflect the direct opinions of the members of The Goat's musical niche, including three interviews with Blues performers involved in the music culture. The events held at the Goat (which may be called events only in the sense that there was a loose scheduling of musical performers) served as the basis for analyzing the actual musical style being performed. For reference regarding many of the influential musicians and places often cited by participants in The Goat's music culture, the website www.Blues.org was helpful.
Aspects of this Music Culture
Ideas
Armed with a at least a modicum of blues history, one could attempt to piece together a history of influences and development of The Goat's Blues style. In reality, it is quite easier. Perry Jones, singer and guitar performer staple at The Goat, says “You want to know something about the Blues around here? Go find out about Tu Tu Jones, then come back here.”
The Goat's brand of blues would and could definitely be linked to the early buddings of Mississippi Delta Blues or Chicago Blues, but that is almost peripheral to accounts of the local top dogs. Names like Freddie King, and T-Bone Walker, Blues musicians who shaped Dallas Blues, are cited almost universally as influences. In this way, it is evident that to understand smaller Blues niches like The Goat, one would glean more insight from searching for more local predecessors rather than pre-eminent Blues musicians that were active outside the Dallas area.
Perry Jones plays one of his influences, Freddie King
Stevie Ray Vaughan is acknowledged as a rightful pillar of local blues legend, but didn't really influence any of The Goat' performers greatly. As Jones explains,“See, he took the twelve bar, and Buddy Guy's guitar style, and Jimi's (Hendrix) electric sounds and did that. But he was coming up at the same times as most of us.” Most of the performers at The Goat are old enough to have been influenced separately from Vaughan. That fact might lead someone to believe that the Goat's performers may be slowing down their involvement in music; in actuality, performers such as Jones have a vitality that seems to be shared in The Goat. Jones admits that he's probably never going to stop playing, and goes on to say that he plays over 280 nights a year, smiling with pride.True to form, The Goat exudes that vitality. Almost every night of the week, the small corner stage will see some sort of performance. As early as 8 AM, regulars can be found happily sitting at the bar, perhaps even waiting for the evening's music to begin.
Activities
The average pedestrian meandering through Dallas bars and hotspots would enter The Goat and immediately be familiar with the scenery. The bar/live music formula is a pervasive one, and possibly for good reason, but what belies cursory glance, however, is the depth of relationship between the on stage performers and the audience. A deeper observation of interaction between the musicians and their audience in between sets immediately informs you of a friendly familiarity, something akin to good friends playing for each other in the comfort of their own home. This initial performer/audience relationship observed was later clarified as something even beyond what was first assumed; while being interviewed, one bar patron, Jim Russell, was called up to the stage to perform Blues guitar. In surprising number, many Goat patrons are in fact musicians that perform in the music culture themselves.
While it is surprising that a distinction between audience and performer is not entirely clear, it also underlines a salient point about what it means to look like a blues performer. Russell, who sat slumped at the bar wearing plain slacks, loafers, and sporting glasses, had this to say after he departed the stage subsequent to delivering his performance, “No, it doesn't matter what you look like.....you know...It matters what's in here (he taps his chest), could be anybody”. For anyone expecting to see the flamboyant style of Stevie Ray Vaughan, or the patented cool of John Lee Hooker being replicated at The Goat, disappointment would be certain. Simply put, visual persona has little to do with the culture.
Many of the patrons and performers look just as unassuming as Russell (with perhaps the exception of the long haired, John Lennon-esque, round-spectacled Perry Jones); they are also almost entirely white. Race, it seems, does have it's definitions in Dallas Blues communities. Without prompt, performer Perry Jones exclaims, “If you wanna see what the black people are doing, go head down to R.L.'s (referring to prominent area black musician R.L. Griffin's live music venue)”. Not only Jones, but many other patrons of the Goat, and especially performers, eagerly direct you to predominantly black establishments or musicians. With a small grin, Jim Russell recounts one of his favorite accomplishments; playing well enough at R.L.'s that blacks danced to his performance. “Whew..thank you for that....”, Russell laughs. The noticeable divide between the two races is easy to mistake as perhaps a prejudice, but in reality, for the predominantly white patronage of The Goat, there is a reverence for black Blues. Russell goes on, “This is their music, you know...... they take it seriously. You better know what you're doing.”
Repertoires
Most Goat musicians would accept the title 'electric blues', or 'blues rock' in a general sense. The 12 Bar chord progression remains prominent throughout performances and performers, as with many other Blues cultures. Standard Blues lyrical themes of misery and problematic love also remain unchanged. An example from performer Homer Henderson's Monday 8thperformance of Dynamite Nitro:
My love is like dynamite
Don't you mess with my fuse
My love's like Napalm
Better handle me with care
Homer Henderson plays Dynamite Nitro
Lyrics will also often change to reflect the steady stream of new performers taking the stage. During a performance by Tony DeCiccio, the names of the new performers on stage were improved into the song as a sort of running introduction. During the same night, one of the performers, Jim Dugger, a jazz-fusion drummer, experienced his first time playing at The Goat. He had never before played with any of his fellow performers. He was able to use his knowledge of jazz drumming and music theory to improvise without any rehearsal. He explains; “Well, you know it is going to be shuffled, and in swing time, so you can almost fake it. That was 100% improvised”, he says, packing away his drum sticks. To this point, rehearsal does not play a significant part of the music culture at all. When asked what band was playing, one patron explained that it was no particular band – only particular musicians who happened to be playing together that night. Perry Jones gives this perspective, “I don't want to be in any band. That means two things – that I have to have a job, and that I have to go to rehearsals. And I ain't doing any of that.”
Material Culture
While the music coming out of The Goat has little to do with anything material at all, there is something to be said about it's near round-the-clock serving of alcohol. It's consumption is near universal, not even the performers refrain. One performer, an electric bass player named Russ, rationalized that at some point, some money has to be made.
Conclusion
With such royal parentage and legacy to pass on, Dallas Blues culture depends on venues like The Goat. The very nature of the bar allows a very flexible cache of talent to express Blues music without many of the common constraints of musical performance. At the Goat, Blues musicians are able to perform almost nightly, without a formal band, and sometimes even without any ties at all to the music culture. These musicians are not only the current keepers of Dallas blues culture, but the influence for the next generation in turn.
Works Cited
Tony DeCiccio/ Perry Jones Jam. Texas, Dallas. 08 Mar. 2010. Performance.
Jones, Perry. Personal interview. 8 Mar. 2010.
Russell, Jim. Personal interview. 08 Mar. 2010.
Dugger, Jim. Personal interview. 08 Mar. 2010.
Introduction
Dallas, Texas has long been a hub of Blues music in America. With a pedigree of blues performers spanning the 20th century such as Blind Lemon Jefferson, T-Bone Walker, and the later Stevie Ray Vaughan, Dallasites are among the privileged few to claim the ancestral birthplace of a music culture. The richness of Dallas blues history allows us a good deal of perspective when we attempt to analyze the smaller communities and niches in which Blues music has maintained it's relevancy. The East Dallas dive bar The Goat remains one of these bastions of an often considered bygone musical era, and with that, a unique opportunity to observe the ideas about Blues that have allowed it to maintain it's relevancy and thrive in Dallas.
Methodology
The main body of data collected to create this analysis is fieldwork. Because this music culture is so small and currently active, there is little or no actual data or observation concerning it in terms of description. Many of the ideas presented in this work reflect the direct opinions of the members of The Goat's musical niche, including three interviews with Blues performers involved in the music culture. The events held at the Goat (which may be called events only in the sense that there was a loose scheduling of musical performers) served as the basis for analyzing the actual musical style being performed. For reference regarding many of the influential musicians and places often cited by participants in The Goat's music culture, the website www.Blues.org was helpful.
Aspects of this Music Culture
Ideas
Armed with a at least a modicum of blues history, one could attempt to piece together a history of influences and development of The Goat's Blues style. In reality, it is quite easier. Perry Jones, singer and guitar performer staple at The Goat, says “You want to know something about the Blues around here? Go find out about Tu Tu Jones, then come back here.”
The Goat's brand of blues would and could definitely be linked to the early buddings of Mississippi Delta Blues or Chicago Blues, but that is almost peripheral to accounts of the local top dogs. Names like Freddie King, and T-Bone Walker, Blues musicians who shaped Dallas Blues, are cited almost universally as influences. In this way, it is evident that to understand smaller Blues niches like The Goat, one would glean more insight from searching for more local predecessors rather than pre-eminent Blues musicians that were active outside the Dallas area.
Perry Jones plays one of his influences, Freddie King
Stevie Ray Vaughan is acknowledged as a rightful pillar of local blues legend, but didn't really influence any of The Goat' performers greatly. As Jones explains,“See, he took the twelve bar, and Buddy Guy's guitar style, and Jimi's (Hendrix) electric sounds and did that. But he was coming up at the same times as most of us.” Most of the performers at The Goat are old enough to have been influenced separately from Vaughan. That fact might lead someone to believe that the Goat's performers may be slowing down their involvement in music; in actuality, performers such as Jones have a vitality that seems to be shared in The Goat. Jones admits that he's probably never going to stop playing, and goes on to say that he plays over 280 nights a year, smiling with pride.True to form, The Goat exudes that vitality. Almost every night of the week, the small corner stage will see some sort of performance. As early as 8 AM, regulars can be found happily sitting at the bar, perhaps even waiting for the evening's music to begin.
Activities
The average pedestrian meandering through Dallas bars and hotspots would enter The Goat and immediately be familiar with the scenery. The bar/live music formula is a pervasive one, and possibly for good reason, but what belies cursory glance, however, is the depth of relationship between the on stage performers and the audience. A deeper observation of interaction between the musicians and their audience in between sets immediately informs you of a friendly familiarity, something akin to good friends playing for each other in the comfort of their own home. This initial performer/audience relationship observed was later clarified as something even beyond what was first assumed; while being interviewed, one bar patron, Jim Russell, was called up to the stage to perform Blues guitar. In surprising number, many Goat patrons are in fact musicians that perform in the music culture themselves.
While it is surprising that a distinction between audience and performer is not entirely clear, it also underlines a salient point about what it means to look like a blues performer. Russell, who sat slumped at the bar wearing plain slacks, loafers, and sporting glasses, had this to say after he departed the stage subsequent to delivering his performance, “No, it doesn't matter what you look like.....you know...It matters what's in here (he taps his chest), could be anybody”. For anyone expecting to see the flamboyant style of Stevie Ray Vaughan, or the patented cool of John Lee Hooker being replicated at The Goat, disappointment would be certain. Simply put, visual persona has little to do with the culture.
Many of the patrons and performers look just as unassuming as Russell (with perhaps the exception of the long haired, John Lennon-esque, round-spectacled Perry Jones); they are also almost entirely white. Race, it seems, does have it's definitions in Dallas Blues communities. Without prompt, performer Perry Jones exclaims, “If you wanna see what the black people are doing, go head down to R.L.'s (referring to prominent area black musician R.L. Griffin's live music venue)”. Not only Jones, but many other patrons of the Goat, and especially performers, eagerly direct you to predominantly black establishments or musicians. With a small grin, Jim Russell recounts one of his favorite accomplishments; playing well enough at R.L.'s that blacks danced to his performance. “Whew..thank you for that....”, Russell laughs. The noticeable divide between the two races is easy to mistake as perhaps a prejudice, but in reality, for the predominantly white patronage of The Goat, there is a reverence for black Blues. Russell goes on, “This is their music, you know...... they take it seriously. You better know what you're doing.”
Repertoires
Most Goat musicians would accept the title 'electric blues', or 'blues rock' in a general sense. The 12 Bar chord progression remains prominent throughout performances and performers, as with many other Blues cultures. Standard Blues lyrical themes of misery and problematic love also remain unchanged. An example from performer Homer Henderson's Monday 8thperformance of Dynamite Nitro:
My love is like dynamite
Don't you mess with my fuse
My love's like Napalm
Better handle me with care
Homer Henderson plays Dynamite Nitro
Lyrics will also often change to reflect the steady stream of new performers taking the stage. During a performance by Tony DeCiccio, the names of the new performers on stage were improved into the song as a sort of running introduction. During the same night, one of the performers, Jim Dugger, a jazz-fusion drummer, experienced his first time playing at The Goat. He had never before played with any of his fellow performers. He was able to use his knowledge of jazz drumming and music theory to improvise without any rehearsal. He explains; “Well, you know it is going to be shuffled, and in swing time, so you can almost fake it. That was 100% improvised”, he says, packing away his drum sticks. To this point, rehearsal does not play a significant part of the music culture at all. When asked what band was playing, one patron explained that it was no particular band – only particular musicians who happened to be playing together that night. Perry Jones gives this perspective, “I don't want to be in any band. That means two things – that I have to have a job, and that I have to go to rehearsals. And I ain't doing any of that.”
Material Culture
While the music coming out of The Goat has little to do with anything material at all, there is something to be said about it's near round-the-clock serving of alcohol. It's consumption is near universal, not even the performers refrain. One performer, an electric bass player named Russ, rationalized that at some point, some money has to be made.
Conclusion
With such royal parentage and legacy to pass on, Dallas Blues culture depends on venues like The Goat. The very nature of the bar allows a very flexible cache of talent to express Blues music without many of the common constraints of musical performance. At the Goat, Blues musicians are able to perform almost nightly, without a formal band, and sometimes even without any ties at all to the music culture. These musicians are not only the current keepers of Dallas blues culture, but the influence for the next generation in turn.
Works Cited
Tony DeCiccio/ Perry Jones Jam. Texas, Dallas. 08 Mar. 2010. Performance.
Jones, Perry. Personal interview. 8 Mar. 2010.
Russell, Jim. Personal interview. 08 Mar. 2010.
Dugger, Jim. Personal interview. 08 Mar. 2010.
Monday, March 8, 2010
It aint hard
The difficulties involving a blues ethnomusicography can probably be counted on one hand.
I had no trouble in conducting research or field work on the blues music of The Goat. To give you an example, on my 3rd trip to The Goat ever, I walked in looking to interview a knowledgeable person well versed in the culture. As soon as I ordered my first beer, one of the blues performers, Perry Jones, came up to me.
Wow, that was easy.
From there my interview process just boomed. Maybe this is due to the nature of the music community of the Goat; every knows each other. As soon as it got out that I was researching Dallas blues at this specific bar, I don't think I had enough paper or wit about me to record everything that got thrown at me. Honestly, I felt a bit like Cameron Crowe's character in 'Almost Famous'. Besides being highly useful, it was a blast. Really, one of the most difficult parts of the interview portion of my research was when to call it a night!
Quite literally, after I finished a line of questioning, some other random person would amble up, find out the topic of my discussion, and start answering my questions. While I took the willingness to inform with the grain of salt, I suddenly realized that the random people helping me out were the blues performers I was studying in the first place. On two occasions, my conversation with my interviewees were cut short because they had been called to the stage to perform!
I couldn't have asked for a music culture more conducive to questioning, but some of the other small problems I encountered were the sheer number of perspectives and ideas about this music culture, actually hearing these accounts over live music, and feeling like a weirdo with a pen and paper sitting at a bar on a weekday night. Another little obstacle was explaining to the wife that I was actually doing a schoolwork at a bar until 1 O'clock in the morning. You can imagine the 'yeah, right' facial expressions I was subjected to.
The biggest challenge I now face is how to synthesize my research of the culture, interviews and field work into something resembling a musical ethnography. I'll be giving it my best to represent the good people down at the Goat. I owe them that at the very least for their hospitality.
I had no trouble in conducting research or field work on the blues music of The Goat. To give you an example, on my 3rd trip to The Goat ever, I walked in looking to interview a knowledgeable person well versed in the culture. As soon as I ordered my first beer, one of the blues performers, Perry Jones, came up to me.
Wow, that was easy.
From there my interview process just boomed. Maybe this is due to the nature of the music community of the Goat; every knows each other. As soon as it got out that I was researching Dallas blues at this specific bar, I don't think I had enough paper or wit about me to record everything that got thrown at me. Honestly, I felt a bit like Cameron Crowe's character in 'Almost Famous'. Besides being highly useful, it was a blast. Really, one of the most difficult parts of the interview portion of my research was when to call it a night!
Quite literally, after I finished a line of questioning, some other random person would amble up, find out the topic of my discussion, and start answering my questions. While I took the willingness to inform with the grain of salt, I suddenly realized that the random people helping me out were the blues performers I was studying in the first place. On two occasions, my conversation with my interviewees were cut short because they had been called to the stage to perform!
I couldn't have asked for a music culture more conducive to questioning, but some of the other small problems I encountered were the sheer number of perspectives and ideas about this music culture, actually hearing these accounts over live music, and feeling like a weirdo with a pen and paper sitting at a bar on a weekday night. Another little obstacle was explaining to the wife that I was actually doing a schoolwork at a bar until 1 O'clock in the morning. You can imagine the 'yeah, right' facial expressions I was subjected to.
The biggest challenge I now face is how to synthesize my research of the culture, interviews and field work into something resembling a musical ethnography. I'll be giving it my best to represent the good people down at the Goat. I owe them that at the very least for their hospitality.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Goatology
My music culture project is the blues music of the bar 'The Goat'. So I'm going to give you a little information about this little gem of a place and the music that comes from it.
http://www.myspace.com/goatblues
The Goat is one of the most popular, if not the most popular, dive bars in the Dallas area. The appeal is such that many of the patrons will be there on a Tuesday morning. The bartenders are almost characters out of a movie. There is definitely a little niche here (not to say that regular patrons aren't incredibly friendly to newcomers and a joy to talk to), and I think this revolves around the fact that every night there is a local band on the one small stage playing blues. One of the things I am going to explore in my ethnomusicology is why exactly it is a blues bar with this sort of tight-nit, all day, every day community. I think there may be some underlying ideas about blues that make the Goat what it is.
Many of the performers and groups are staples of the bar (or should I say duct tape...which is literally what holds some of the place together). Tony DeCiccio and Pete Barbeck have weekly gigs. I will be trying my best to snag an interview with one of these performers for more insight into the Dallas blues community. I will also be analyzing some material culture aspects of the Goat. The music is in a bar, for sure, but does alcohol have anything to do with it, like the Japanese Do-Enka?
Here is a small performance by Pete Barbeck last year at The Goat.
http://www.myspace.com/goatblues
The Goat is one of the most popular, if not the most popular, dive bars in the Dallas area. The appeal is such that many of the patrons will be there on a Tuesday morning. The bartenders are almost characters out of a movie. There is definitely a little niche here (not to say that regular patrons aren't incredibly friendly to newcomers and a joy to talk to), and I think this revolves around the fact that every night there is a local band on the one small stage playing blues. One of the things I am going to explore in my ethnomusicology is why exactly it is a blues bar with this sort of tight-nit, all day, every day community. I think there may be some underlying ideas about blues that make the Goat what it is.
Many of the performers and groups are staples of the bar (or should I say duct tape...which is literally what holds some of the place together). Tony DeCiccio and Pete Barbeck have weekly gigs. I will be trying my best to snag an interview with one of these performers for more insight into the Dallas blues community. I will also be analyzing some material culture aspects of the Goat. The music is in a bar, for sure, but does alcohol have anything to do with it, like the Japanese Do-Enka?
Here is a small performance by Pete Barbeck last year at The Goat.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
JERO
So I'm sitting here studying up on Do-Enka for the exam and I come across this little gem.
Apparently, Enka is alive and kicking with a little help from Jerome White, Jr. from Pittsburgh. He was introduced to Enka by his Japanese grandmother, who his service member grandfather met after World War II. If the Japanese found a kinship with African American music after WWII, Jero is reciprocating in amazing fashion.
Peculiar, isn't it.
Apparently, Enka is alive and kicking with a little help from Jerome White, Jr. from Pittsburgh. He was introduced to Enka by his Japanese grandmother, who his service member grandfather met after World War II. If the Japanese found a kinship with African American music after WWII, Jero is reciprocating in amazing fashion.
Peculiar, isn't it.
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