Greetings…

So I hope this to be the first of many posts on this new blog.  A few short comments to introduce myself and the goal of this blog.

I am currently a PhD musicology student at a large western US university.  My primary research area is in various media scores (film, television, video games, etc), and while I have yet to start my dissertation research, I do hope to shortly begin to narrow down the exact topic.

The main purpose of this blog is to act as a sort of “temp track” for my research.  Just like the director’s use of a temp track to give the composer an idea of what they might want for music in a particular scene, I hope to use this blog as a sounding board for my ideas.  Though, sometimes I may just post observations and thoughts on a recent score or something that caught my ear.  As I am just beginning this blog, it is hard to know what direction it might take.

Anyway, welcome, and I do hope to update this as often as possible (but school does come first!).

Stop the Planet of the Apes! I Want to Get Off!

  For those of you ignorant of The Simpsons, the subject is a reference to the musical version of The Planet of the Apes starring Troy McClure…as the human (the part he was born to play!).  But I’m not going to write about the classic song “You’ll Never Make a Monkey Out of Me (I Hate Every Ape I See)” or “Dr. Zaius.”  Rather, I’m going to speak about the movie franchise.  Using it to elaborate on some subjects talked about in my previous post, “Science Fiction.”


The original Apes film, and to a lesser extent its sequels, are a perfect example of what Sci-Fi can do so well.  It takes touchy social/political subjects and wraps them in the cloth of science fiction to make them more palatable for the viewing public.  Planet of the Apes addressed such topics as: 1) Social inequality based on race, 2) Science versus Faith (i.e. evolution), and 3) Nuclear Warfare.  Oddly enough, even though the film is 40 years old this year, all these things are still very much a part of our civilization.  Maybe man doesn’t evolve, we just find more clever ways to cover up our flaws.

  So what we do have here is a perfect example of what might be normally taboo, or at least touchy, topics to be addressed in such a public way, Apes tackles them head.  And does it for FIVE FILMS!  Yes, the four sequels are not nearly as creative or subtle as the first, but how does one really beat the Monkey Trial Redux?  I mean, really?  The classic scene of the original film where intelligent Apes evolving from Man is debated and the judges do all they can to deny the evidence is simply brilliant (not to mention the comical moment where the three Ape judges imitate the See No, Speak No, Hear No Evil bit).  “Objection!” “Sustained!”

  The second film, Beneath the Planet of the Apes, while not nearly as subtle, I believe has new found relevance in our modern society.  It deals with an overly adventurous and aggressive military general forcing an unnecessary and ultimately disastrous campaign against what turns out to be the mutant human descendants of humanity who live in a bombed out NYC and worship the almighty bomb…and the holy fallout.  The general, Ursus, has the classic, and chilling, line while addressing a council of, “The only thing that counts in the end is power!  Naked, merciless force!”

  Remind anyone of another chilling absolute recently uttered?  Perhaps, “You are either with us or you are with the terrorists.”  Maybe?

  Of course I would not be the first to compare the current Commander in Chief, aka “The Commander Guy,” aka “The Decider,” with an ape.

  Granted, that film was made at the height of Viet Nam and also deals with pacifism, a war protest, and the eventual destruction of the planet.  Surely not things we have to worry about now, right?  Wait a second, didn’t Russia just invade someone?  Is this 2008 or the 1950s?

  The remaining films deal with how the Earth got to be the planet of the Apes, of which the best installment is Conquest of the Planet of the Apes.  It deals with the Ape revolution against their oppressive human slave masters, and is quite far and away the darkest installment.  The changed, more positive, ending that the studio demanded really kind of ruins the whole thing.  Caesar, the leader of the resistance, gives a speech on how Apes shall no longer tolerate their slavery, talks about the world burning in the fires of revolution, really great imagery, and original the human governor of the city was to be beaten to death…but instead the studio demanded that he be spared.

  It’s not that I’m opposed to the change, it’s just that it was such a bad hack job and is so obvious that it just ruins the whole ending.

  A few words on Tim Burton’s 2001 remake should be made.  Mainly on why it just does not measure up to the original.  It comes down to the fact that it doesn’t have any of the social commentary that made the 1968 film such a classic.  Instead, we get a two hour sci-fi action adventure.  Not that sci-fi action is necessarily bad, it’s that when that is everything it is, the obvious silliness of the concept overwhelms the story.  In the ’68 version, and Pierre Boulle’s novel, the Ape oppressing human story is a device to explore society, and both do it well.  Burton’s remake doesn’t really do it.  It focuses entirely on the human’s capture and escape.  Also, these humans can speak and do so.  Part of what made the original so devastating was Taylor’s palpable frustration at the situation of the humans not being intelligent and the Apes insistence that his intelligence was all a learned trick.

  Simply, there were no scenes in the 2001 version that screamed “classic” like the courtroom scene, or Heston’s classic, “Get your stinkin’ paws off me you damned dirty apes,” and definitely not the ending shot of the Statue of Liberty.  Burton’s end just left the view saying, “huh?”  Granted, he was intending to remake more of the films, and perhaps the “Ape Lincoln” at the end might have been explained.

  Instead we’re left with a mess of a remake.

  What I’m saying is that the films actual hold up better than most people give them credit for.  I would recommend the original to anyone I know, and for any fan of science fiction, the whole series really is a must see.

Science Fiction

I love science fiction, have since I was a kid.  I used to dream about going into space, inventing warp drives, and other such flights of fancy.  Alot of my love stems from my parents, growing up Star Wars and Star Trek were in heavy rotation for viewing in my house.  My parents themselves as teens and young adults read the works of Asimov and others and once I was old enough, I too read many of those works.  A quick glance at my bookshelf I see works of Arthur C. Clarke, Isaac Asimov, Philip K. Dick, and Orson Scott Card.  But as I’ve grown older, and I’ve tried to explore science fiction in both literary and visual media, I have grown to appreciate just what is so wonderful about the genre.


It’s that in my opinion it’s not a genre.  At least not in the sense of “drama,” “action,” “comedy,” and other such labels you find at the local video store, though there is always a “sci-fi” section (many times lumped in with “horror”).  Or even in a bookstore, you have the “literature” section, then sub sections for “romance,” “mystery,” and “science-fiction/fantasy.”  In my opinion science fiction is a genre that transcends genre.  It’s a setting that can be anything it wants.  It can be action, drama, romance, comedy, horror, mystery.  It’s a genre that is so rich and varied.  Not to mention an underdog that has been looked down upon since its early days, and still is for the most part.  When was the last time a sci-fi film was up for Best Picture?  Maybe Star Wars?  


But despite the snubbing of many of the intelligentsia (or intellinistas as I like to call them…hey I’m one too), it is a “genre” that has flourished and has become so rich and varied that many people have a hard time knowing if to call something science fiction unless it blatantly involves robots, aliens, space travel, or preferably all three!  Many people say the TV show Lost is science fiction, but is it?  There is definitely something unknown and strange at work, weird scientific experiments and such.  But unless the last two seasons have some really strange twists (which I don’t really put anything past J.J. Abrams), there will not be any aliens or robots or space travel.  Though they did just move the entire island, which was pretty cool.


But look at how science fiction is action and drama and comedy.  What science fiction funny?  Read Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy lately?  Action? Drama?  Star Wars is both in one, as is Trek.  If you want just action, look no further than The Matrix or Total Recall or The Terminator movies or Aliens.  Horror?  How about original Alien, or the more recent Sunshine (which is more 2001 drama until the last act when it turns horror). Pure drama?  How about some 2001?  Too slow or cerebral?  Well maybe Dark City, which is also cerebral, but also a good film noir too, along with a little drama and romance.  Or if you want so really good long form “space opera,” then check out the new Battlestar Galactica.  That should be dramatic enough for anyone.  Hell, it’s practically a soap opera in space.  The only thing it’s lacking is a coma patient pregnant with Admiral Adama’s love child.  But maybe we’ll get that in the last half of season four.


I guess my favorite thing about science fiction, though, is its ability to make us think.  The good science fiction challenges us and makes us think.  But changing the setting from what is known about our world, tweaking it, making changes to force us to ask questions.  Questions about humanity, what makes us who we are.  Questions about reality, what is real, could we tell the difference between reality and a completely convincing illusion?  Or what if we ourselves are the illusion?  It can force us to look at our own reality and see the absurd in how we act to each other.  As in the classic original Star Trek episode “Let This Be Your Last Battlefield.”  You know the one with the race of people that are half white/half black, and dependent on which side of your body is which you’re either slave or master.

Rodenberry was never exactly subtle with his points, but they were effective none the less.  Science Fiction is in many ways like the jester of Shakespeare.  I know, I know I’ve used the reference many times before, even in the previous post, but it is such a classic literary device.  Anyway, because Science Fiction is not dealing with the “real world” it can get away with more, just like the jester could comment on the king through comedy.  Since people didn’t take it seriously, we could dream of a better world, comment on just how terrible our current times are.  Or ask the really hard questions about our human nature.

  There is a great episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine where Captain Sisko has a hallucination about being a science fiction writer back in the 1950s, “Far Beyond the Stars.”  He dreams up the entire DS9 universe complete with a black captain, which of course sparks a huge debate on whether to publish the story.  It captures much of what is great about the genre, not to mention why it had such a hard time gaining even the respect it has today.

  I guess what I’m trying to say is that Science Fiction has so many of the qualities that make other genres great, but it does them in such a way that it transcends those genres.  It’s more than just a genre.  What is a genre really?  I know there is great debate in academic communities on this very question, but I would ask if Science Fiction fits many of these qualities.  It has both drama and comedy, and aren’t those the two most basic genres?  Science Fiction can challenge us to make a better future and make a better self.  And this, among many other reasons, is why I love it so much.

  And space ships are wicked cool.

The Dark Knight (Updated and Edited)

Note:  This post does contain some spoilers of both the movie and the comic The Killing Joke, from which many aspects of the Joker in the film are taken.  You have been warned!

So of course, Friday night, I went and saw the new Batman movie, The Dark Knight.  Big surprise there, eh?  Even my new found miserly ways could not keep me from seeing what might be the most anticipated film of the year.  And the quick review?  It truly is all that and a bag of chips.  The long review, well, that’s what I’m about to write now, of course.

So the most talked about aspect of this film in all the advance reviews was Heath Ledger’s performance of ‘The Joker,’ and while I’m not completely sold on all the Oscar talk, I will say that he has created one of the most memorable on screen villains of recent memory.  His portrayal of the Joker is chilling, freighting, and psychotic.  Now before I go any further, I must give credit where credit is due.  If it were not for the excellent script by director Christopher Nolan and his brother Jonathan (wow, a family working together!), Ledger would not have had the material to work from that gave rise to his wonderful performance.  Anyway, the Joker of this film is one that is miles away from the one of the ’60s TV series, and a few padded cells down from Nicholson’s 1989 Joker.  Whereas Jack played the Joker with more comedy then true psychosis, Ledger gives himself wholly over to the psychotic nature of the character.

And there is nothing wrong with either interpretation.  The character has been written both ways in the comics, and even in Batman: The Animated Series, we see both aspects.

And here is the rub, Nicholson’s Joker would not work in the world created by Nolan.  Tim Burton’s Gotham was a more fantastical place, with Gothic spires and Gargoyles on every roof top.  It was dark and nightmarish in a demented sort of way, but was far enough removed from reality, that a more comedic, over-the-top Joker was called for.  Nolan’s Gotham is a much more real place.  Shooting on the streets of Chicago, we feel like it is not so far removed from our world, thus calling for a more realistic Joker.  Even the way Nolan set up the Batman in the first movie makes him feel like a more plausible character.  Yes, we can never truly believe that Batman and the Joker could ever be real, but it is so hard to imagine that a truly criminally insane person, like a serial killer, might adopt such an identity before going on their crime spree?  No.  The existence of such criminals as “Jack the Ripper,” the “Zodiac Killer,” and Charles Manson and his cult gives grounding to the Joker.  And Ledger performs him as such an insane person, or as he calls himself, an “Agent of Chaos.”

Which brings me to the strongest aspect of the Joker in this movie, and that is as a foil to Batman.  In the comics, the Joker has always been the best foil of Batman among his rouges gallery.  Batman seeks to bring the people of Gotham order.  He wants take back the streets from the criminals, and give power back to the good people of Gotham.  The Joker wants nothing more than to throw it into chaos.  He’s never sought power like so many other villains, it holds no appeal for him, what he seeks is merely anarchy.  Take Alan Moore’s seminal The Killing Joke, for example (something I believe was an inspiration for Nolan and Nolan).  In it, the Joker escapes from Arkham (again!), and seeks to prove that sanity is just a thin facade, and even the supposedly sanest person can be forced into insanity.  To that end, the Joker kidnaps Commissioner Gordon, and in the process shoots and paralyzes his daughter Barbara from the waist down.  He then subjects Gordon to psychological torture, stripping him naked and parading him around a carnival.  Torture fit for Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay!  He then shows him images of his still bleeding daughter stripped naked.  All trying to break him and prove that anyone can be driven insane, though Gordon never breaks.  The whole story is bookended by Batman talking to the Joker, asking if there is anyway they can stop their endless dance that can only lead to one of them killing the other.

Ledger’s delivery, the body language, everything he does physically brings out this psychotic nature and makes you truly fear the character.  He feels real, truly psychotic.  And the end, in his upside down monologue to Batman after his “social experiment” with the two ferries has failed (re. Killing Joke experiment with Gordon), we get to hear just what it is that he wants, to be nothing more than an Agent of Chaos, to reveal the truth of society underneath our politesse.  In this aspect, we see a much deeper aspect of the Joker, one that truly earns him his name.  One aspect of the Joker/Pierrot/Jester of the Commedia dell’Arte/Shakespearean tradition is that of social commentator.  He alone sees the truth of society, it’s follies and foibles, and thanks to his place as a Jester/Comedian of the court (in the Shakespeare), he can comment directly on it without fear of reprisal from the King.  In this, we see that sense of the Joker, but to us, he is proven wrong.  His view is warped by his own psychosis…but is he so wrong?  That is the question.

Now, I would be remiss to discuss one further aspect of the Joker in this film, and that is the musical aspect and its relationship to the idea of foil to Batman.  The score for Batman Begins and The Dark Knight is one that doesn’t really have character “themes” in the traditional Romantic sense, like Wagner or the scores of Star Wars and The Lord of the Rings.  But, it does have some ideas and gestures that can be called motifs of sorts.  The one most associated with Batman has two parts: first is a two note repeated motor rhythm played in the strings (in someways I think this is a sideways homage to the original T.V. Batmantheme, but I could be wrong), and second is a two chord progression that moves upwards.  The chords themselves has a decidedly minor/dark quality, but the upwards motion is a very recognizable heroic topic.  In this sense, we get the nature of Batman represented, his dark/fear inducing quality mixed with his want to do good.  In Dark Knight, the score gives us a similar two-part motif most associated with the Joker, but it changes the elements to make it a musical foil to the Batman motif.  First, the two-note rhythm, now played by an electric guitar (I think), is mostly one repeated notes with accents to give it a more off-kilter feel, it doesn’t settle into regularity and is very uneasy, like the Joker’s mental state.  The second aspect, the chords, now move downwards, and for the second chord is goes to a deep pedal note, musically it is the bottom dropping out.  And the downward motion, of course, is the opposite of the upward heroic topic.

These are just some thoughts.  There is much more I could go into:  the amazing effects for Harvey Dent’s Two-Face persona (truly chilling), the death of (SPOLIER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOLIER ALERT!!!!!) Rachel Dawes (now played by Maggie Gyllenhaal) and how it clears the decks for the possible introduction of a new love interest (i.e. Talia al Ghul or Selina Kyle, aka Catwoman) in the next movie, or the very end and the implications for the next movie.  But this has gone on long enough and I really should go do some work…since I am at work.

Addendum:  Okay, I’ve edited the many, many spelling errors!  Also, my friend and film scorer B (name withheld to protect the innocent) pointed out that in the Joker’s motif, it is not electric guitar playing the rhythm, but most likely an electrically altered (distortion) cello.  This, though, fits well with the foil idea because for the Batman motif, the rhythmic aspect is played by groups of cellos.  So the same base instruments (no pun intended), but the Joker’s are distorted.  Also, he corrected me that also, for the Joker, there are not chords, but open octaves that move downwards.  Again, I feel that these differences only strengthen the concept of foil nature that the Joker plays for Batman.  Aural skills have never been my strong point.

Furthermore, something else B said sparked a further semiotic relationship in the Batman motif in my mind.  He reminded me that Batman, especially in the second film, does not consider himself a hero.  In fact he makes a point of saying that in Dark Knight.  As I said above, even though the Batman motif employs a heroic topic in the upward motion of the chords, there is a darkness in the qualities.  A hero, but a dark hero, a reluctant hero (which brings to mind Luke’s mournful, plaintive theme from the original Star Wars as he looks at the dual sunset on Tatooine).

A last idea that occurred on the bus ride home tonight.  I’m not sure if this carries throughout the both movies, but I think that, for the most part, it is Hans Zimmer scoring the music for Batman and James Newton Howard who does the music for the tragic aspects of Bruce Wayne.  Having two composers with such different styles on the film was, I always thought, an odd choice.  But, when I thought about this aspect, how the two composers might be scoring different aspects of the lead character, and how that difference, the Bruce Wayne/Batman dichotomy, is at the heart of the entire mythos, it all of a sudden made a whole lot of sense.  I’m not completely sure if my theory is true in, it would take more familiarity with both composers’ styles and a careful watching/listening of both films…but I could be right…or not.

Alright, enough on this topic…at least until I go see Dark Knight a second time.

Music and Ritual

As some may know, one of my papers last semester dealt with describing film as a ritual activity and analyzing scores in that context.  My ideas are still very much a work in progress, but here are some thoughts I’ve been jotting down the last few days.

Music, Western music, especially classical music, used to be consumed in a primarily ritualized manner, i.e. the concert.  Recording technology changed that, but the process of listening to classical music at home still had ritualized tendencies.  Then along came the pop explosion, and more importantly, radio airplay.  The digestion of short, disposable songs made the music less valuable because much of the ritual was taken out of it.  It was less about the journey of the music, the piece moving the listener with it, then about the commercial viability of the single.
Album-oriented rock held onto some of the ritual elements.  The listener, to gain the full impact, had to sit, listen, digest.  It was about a ritual journey again.  Now once again, with iTunes and other similar services, we are again faced with a focus less on the whole and more with the catchy and disposable.

But will music as a listening ritual every really die?  The marketplace will always have it’s “pop.”  Folk music, lieder, etc. down through the centuries is a testament to the fact that for every mass, opera cycle, symphony there has always been the motet, madrigal, piano prelude, and Billie Jean.  But as long as individuals keep listening, and artists keep writing with the album as a conceptual whole, the ritual of listening will be around.  Whether in your car, your iPod on the bus, or on your favorite home stereo, people still treat these things as rituals.

But these are examples of ritual activity in which music is the focal point of the ritual.  What about rituals in which music is just a component?  What effect does music play?  How does it inform the ritual?  More to the point, how can film, television, video games fit within the scope of ritual activity and how does the musical score effect it?  Alter our perceptions?  And most importantly, why is seeing it within the context of the ritual process useful?

My primary thought is that, to my satisfaction, the question of why music is associated with such visual storytelling mediums has never been answered.  I believe that such an analysis through the ritual process can illuminate this question.

De Musica, Part II

               In his Fundamentals of Music, Boethius divides those engaged in music into three categories:  those who perform music, those who composer music, and those who contemplate music.  It is only this last category that to Boethius deserves the title of musician.  It also works as a sort of social stratification, and in this sense truly shows its derivation from the Greeks.

 

                And while I do not agree, necessarily with the socio-cultural aspects of this musical caste system, it does have not only some interest educational aspects, but also shows a striking parallel to today’s musical elitist culture (which will be discussed later).

 

In learning music, the path of one’s education does go from performer to composer to philosopher, that is if one ever reaches beyond the first step.  We start out young learning an instrument, and learning some basic theory along the way.  Eventually, we learn how music is constructed, more advanced theory, and learn how to compose.  Finally, with all appreciation of these aspects we learn how to think about music.  For most students, though, the third step is not taught.  As articulated previously, we as musicians are very rarely, if ever, given the tools for this.

 

                I can appreciate not wanting to spoon-feed  knowledge to people, but a basic discussion of Kant and Hegel in relation to 19th Century European Art Music would seem a given, but not even that is done in some cases (my case).

 

                We, as educators, should strive in training young musicians to make them true “musicians” in the Beothian sense of the term: to possibly coin a phrase, the performer-philosopher. 

De Musica

I’m not advocating a return to the cultish aspects of Pythagoras, or saying that music is some mystical religion or occult teaching.  But rather that philosophy and aesthetics as related to music have lost their way, at least in regards to how we teach music.

 

In most other disciplines, they teach some basic philosophy course that lays out many aspects of it: philosophy of science, education, math, history; but no such course for music is standard.  We don’t even routinely teach aesthetics, something that is at the very heart of music.  (Now granted, this is from my own limited experience, but these are things I strongly feel should be standard in a musician’s education.)  It is part of training a true musician.  Not just one who plays or composes, but one who truly contemplates and strives to understand music.

 

We teach many of the tools:  theory to understand its construction, history to understand its place, but we need philosophy and aesthetics to bring these together.  We do not teach this.  Many courses might touch on the periphery, and students might talk about it, but if we give student two of these tools, theory and history, why don’t we give them the third, philosophy?

 

Towards a Unification

 

                String Theory seeks to give physics the mathematical tools to finally unify Einstein’s General Relativity Theory of gravity with the Standard Model of Quantum Mechanics, and music is in need of something similar.

 

                Music is a fractured discipline.  Not only do we have specialization by discipline (performance, composition, jazz or classical, theory, musicology), but we are still very music culturally biased (Western, non-Western, and every other culture on Earth).  We are all under the umbrella of music, but are we really taught to thing about music as a whole?

 

                Universals get a bad wrap in today’s culturally sensitive world.  Fears of globalization and disappearing cultures have made us keen on preserving what makes our world a wonderfully varied and unique place.  But to truly reach a unified approach to music, even with philosophy, we must first reach a unified description of music in the world, and this would HAVE to include all cultures aesthetic approach to music, non-Western theory, and how music functions culturally.  These are all things that Ethnomusicology has begun to equip us with.

 

                Once we being to understand music in the world at large more completely, we can begin to build a more complete philosophical and aesthetic base of music.  We examine what are those universals that can be found in music theories, performance rituals, cultural perception, cultural function, and others.

 

                Music is NOT a universal language, at least not yet.

 

                When we say that, many of us are thinking of only Western music, but even in Western Civilization it’s not universal.  Play a Mozart symphony for ten different people and odds are you’ll get at least five different reactions, if not ten.  The only thing universal about music is that every culture on Earth has developed some form of music.

 

                That in itself, though, is a compelling fact.

 

                Working from there we can begin to examine the philosophical underpinnings of music in culture.

 

                This is why the crucial first step in this process is to teach philosophy and aesthetics alongside theory and history.  And it is something that should be done at the undergraduate level in college.  We unify all aspects of Western music first with the proper teaching of philosophy and aesthetics to students.  Really a re-unification since to the ancient Greeks and even afterwards, this was crucial to one’s education. 

                After that, we can begin to make strides to unify the study of all musics into our schools, and not just some one semester class of “World Musics.”

Harmonices Mundi

  Music is in the world and the world is music. 

 

  For many years philosophers wrote about music as an integral part of the mathematical sciences along with geometry, arithmetic, and astronomy.  Music was described as having its theoretical basis in the ratios of intervals and from there building its way to theory of notes, scales, modes, and harmony.

 

  Along with this also came the harmony of the spheres; that the mathematical ratios of intervals first described by Pythagoras can be observed in the celestial bodies in our universe.

 

  Even Johannes Kepler when setting out his theories, which would become laws, of planetary motion references it.  One of his books is called Harmonices Mundi, or The Harmony of the Worlds.

  But just as Kepler’s astrology was divorced from astronomy, so was his Harmony of the World relegated to the scientific refuse pile of the occult.

  Now, though, we have String Theory, which at least from its metaphorical terms seems to bring its back to the concept of music and science coexisting in nature: the metaphysical, the natural, the musical; the Music of the Spheres.  Or as Brian Greene likes to call it, “The Cosmic Symphony.”

  Setting aside String Theory for the moment, let us consider a more terrestrially bound thesis: music can be found all around us.  It is one that 20th Century composer John Cage exemplified in 4’33”.  Now whether you consider Cage genius or fraud is a question of personal aesthetic taste, but for my taste, and this thesis, we shall consider him the former.

  As I write this I am sitting in a room in supposed complete silence, but is there truly such a thing?  What Cage was aiming for in 4’33”, at least in my view, was for us to consider the sounds around us; the music that occurs when we truly listen.  Music is not just organized noise.  Music is the sound of the world around us, both natural and man-made.

  We only don’t consider it such because it lacks the rational, logical, organization hand of a composer.  Well, Cage gave us that with 4’33”.

  But what about in a more abstract sense?  Our lives, our culture, even our many religions are filled with musical metaphors or terminology related to music.  We talk of things being in harmony or discord.  Something is like a symphony, or someone is like a conductor.  Granted, we also like our war metaphors, or comparing things to famous historical events or figures, but music allows us a more transcendent metaphor not only because of its status as an art, but also because, even without knowing it, we still associate music with the cosmos.  We still carry a cultural memory of the Music of the Spheres.

 

From many religious creation myths to more contemporary examples like J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle-Earth creation story, Ainulindalë (The Music of the Ainur), music is a powerful force, one that can be seen as providing the bridge between the sacred and the profane, heaven and earth.  “Life has a melody…A rhythm of notes which become your existence once played in harmony with God’s plan,” extols the Number Six cylon to Gaius Baltar in the re-imagined Battlestar Galactica.  It may be a fictional television show, but it is a popular and powerful metaphor upon which an entire cosmological musical metaphor is built upon.

 

Music is in the Universe, and the universe is music.

Music is math made audible.

Music is the universe made audible.

Jai Guru Deva Om

 So this weekend I saw Julie Taymore’s newest film Across the Universe.  A movie musical love story set to works by The Beatles taking place in the late 1960s in the U S.  The history of the ’60s in the US, while somewhat romanticized by nostalgia of a time that, despite the social strife, was a time when people actually fought for what they believed in, is truly one of great upheaval and unrest.  The film depicts both the political and racial tensions in the nation.  It pulls in allegorically many major events of the time:  race riots (one character flees from Detroit, most likely the 1967 riots that was one of worst in US history), and both peaceful demonstrations and the eventual violent turn by the anti-war movement.  The title choice, Across the Universe, is an interesting one I think.  The repeated line of the chorus, after the mantra that is the title of this post, is “Nothing’s gonna change my world,” I believe has a lot to say about the history of the 60s political movement, and in extension, our current society.

Now, “Across the Universe” was written by John Lennon in 1968, just as the anti-war movement was starting to reach its heights.  But as the song is used in the movie (and is juxtaposed with “Helter Skelter”), during a climatic protest scene in which our male lead, trying to reach his more radicalized girlfriend through the crowd, the line “Nothing’s gonna change my world” drifts up between lines of “Helter Skelter,” and we understand Taymore’s choice of title, the line is a prophetic comment on the anti-war movement.  The solemn tone of the song is the funeral of American revolutionary spirit that died when the 60s anti-war movement would eventually failed amidst increasing government policing and incidents like the Kent State Shootings.  The violent turn taken by some groups, like the Weather Underground linked above, also led to a disillusion by many who saw a betrayal of the peace and love spirit of the 60s, incidents like this at UW-Madison led to the collapse of what had been growing support among more of the general public for the movement.

In the end, nothing did change our world.  Despite and unpopular war, one of which had a dubious beginning to American escalation, it was only the collapse of the American defense that led to the pull out from Viet Nam.  The anti-war movement achieved nothing except the death of the spirit of public protest of governmental policies.  The American Imperial agenda that had been growing since the end of World War II, and especially the growth of the military-industrial complex (as used by Dwight D. Eisenhower in his farewell speech when leaving office), had successfully entrenched itself into America’s political landscape and has grown stronger with ever subsequent American led invasion, American backed coup or insurrection in other nations, from Korea right down to our current scrap in Iraq.  The failure of the 60s anti-war movement has made it harder to organize large scale efforts against the Iraq War here in the United States, though worldwide the movement is quite large.

In the end, many people feel like the beast is too large to take down.  It would take a widespread change in political culture to get rid of the of the ‘military-industrial complex.’  It’s hard to pinpoint where the beginnings of America‘s imperial ambition began, some say the War of 1812, while others point to the Spanish-American War.  There is no doubt that post World War II though, America had become addicted to the heroin that is being a World Superpower, and even though that in today’s society military power does not equal true power, America is still looking for a military fix to prop up its status.  Through out the last fifty years, it has been the constant military readiness that has fueled America‘s economic rise, and now those corporations see the danger in today’s world where wars are fought not by men in the field, but by bankers and accountants, and stock brokers.  Money has always equaled power, but now they’ve just cut out the middle man of the military.

You say you want a revolution?  Well you know, we all want to change the world.  I don’t have any answers, and there are so many things wrong with the way our government works.  Politicians are bought and sold by lobbyists, though it’s all “campaign contributions.”  Right.  We can’t get health care reform because the HMOs buy off enough congressmen to block it.  “Stay the course” has kept us in Iraq, along with American pride, never give up, never surrender.  Smart businessmen know when to cut their losses and dump a losing stock, or in the case of Time Warner, AOL.  But as Bush’s early business career attest to, he went from one failed company to another, though somehow always ended up with a high position at the company his was sold too.  Savvy.

So I’ve seemed to have strayed from the initial topic of Julie Taymore’s latest film, or have I?  I do believe that many of these things were the intended overtones of the film.  Commentary on our current situation and the parallels between Viet Nam and Iraq are a dime a dozen today, but I believe the true subtle genius of Taymore’s story and title choice is showing us just how much the failure of the anti-war movement against the government has had a sustained impact on our culture.  The movement was truly on the verge of open revolution at times, but was stopped before it got that far (though the fact that some did take up arms as it was faltering shows the dedication of a few towards that end).

Now, I must tread carefully, or else Homeland Security might be beating down my door, I do not support violent revolution.  That is only the last act of desperation after peaceful, political options have all been exhausted.  Though that is just the trajectory that the 60s took: after the peaceful demonstrations had failed, after many instances of government violence towards its citizenry, those left, and most radicalized, took up arms, and the rest is history.  The movement withered upon the Tree of Liberty, showing sometimes that it cannot be refreshed by the blood of riots and tyrants.  Political insurgency is such a tricky thing, because to one side it is freedom fighting, to the other it is terrorism.  Your view depends on which side of the looking glass you are on, for what were the American revolutionaries but terrorist against the British crown?

Through the looking glass“, or “through a glass, darkly,” it is all based on perception.  And too many of us are afraid to look in the mirror for fear of what might be looking back at us.