We are developing the social individualist meta-context for the future. From the very serious to the extremely frivolous... lets see what is on the mind of the Samizdata people.
Samizdata, derived from Samizdat /n. - a system of clandestine publication of banned literature in the USSR [Russ.,= self-publishing house]
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A while ago I wrote a posting here about how Stalin had maybe made Shostakovich a better composer. Deeper, less flippantly modernistical, more soulful, more significant, that kind of thing. In one way, Soviet repression certainly made Shostakovich preferable to me, because I dislike opera, that is to say, I dislike the sound that it makes. Political repression meant that Shostakovich wrote less opera and more instrumental music. There is no doubt that if Shostakovich had had his way, he would have felt safe enough to write more operas, and that would surely have meant fewer symphonies, concertos and string quartets. All of which I adore, except when the symphonies burst into song, as they did towards the end.
I just do not like the way that most classical music singing is done. All that wobbling and bellowing. This style was developed to fill opera houses before microphones, and during the pre-microphone era this was all that there was, if people were going to be able to hear it at the back of the hall. But now, when I compare the average din, so to speak, of this this style with the best of the twentieth century microphone-savvy singers, I find the operatic manner very off-putting and a serious barrier to my enjoyment of and understanding of classical music as a whole. See also this recent posting over at my personal blog about Sting doing a CD of some songs by John Dowland, which I of course welcome. Since writing that posting I have actually heard Sting sing Dowland in a broadcast concert. Frankly, I thought his voice sounded far too strained and I did not enjoy it. But many clearly did, and maybe the CD will sound better. Either way, the attempt was definitely worth making, and I hope other pop singers follow his lead. This concert can be listened to courtesy of the BBC for the next week or so.
Ironically, one of the things about the operatic style of singing that particularly annoys me is that even if you do know the language they are supposed to be singing in, you often cannot hear the damn words, and have to resort to reading along with a little book if you want to know what is being said, just as if it was in a foreign language. This drains much of the spontaneity out of the experience. But, even if I can hear the words, I still hate all the wobbling and bellowing. On the other hand, if there is little or no wobbling or bellowing I often love it, even if I cannot understand the foreign words. I just listen to the sound of it, as if the singing was a violin or something.
If you, on the other hand, like the way the typical opera singer sounds, then I am very happy for you. I am absolutely not arguing that you should make yourself suffer from my dislike of opera singing even if you now do not. Lucky you.
But meanwhile, I personally wish some way could have been contrived to have made Shostakovich’s great English compositional contemporary Benjamin Britten write more symphonies, concertos and string quartets, and fewer operas, without ruining the political culture of the country where he happened to be born and to live, which happens also to be mine. I love Britten’s concertos, symphonies and string quartets, such as they are. But almost anything of Britten’s involving singing, particularly solo singing (classical choral singing I find less annoying), especially if the solo singing is being done by Peter Pears, causes me to switch off. Ironically, had Britten lived half a century later than he did, he might have felt a lot more inhibited about expressing his true ideas, given that so many of them involved the fact that he loved beautiful boys! He might instead have written fewer operas and more string quartets, and critics might then have argued about the alleged paedophilic sub-text of said quartets. And I could have ignored all that and loved the music a whole lot more than I now love Britten’s operas.
Anyway, I now want to speculate that maybe this Shostakovich/Britten contrast can be generalised, to throw light on the bigger story of Western classical music. → Continue reading: Political repression and the development of Western classical music
US blogger Jim Henley has some interesting thoughts about the politics of ace science fiction adventures series Battlestar Galactica. In my typically languid British way, I have just about started munching my way through series 2, which I find rather dark and depressing compared to the excellent series 1, but I am savouring the programmes even so, and looking forward to the third series, already now showing. My addiction to this series is worse even than Babylon 5 or, to roll back the years and to a very different genre, to Blackadder. The acting and the plots are consistently enthralling and entertaining.
It got me thinking about drama and storytelling more generally. If you tell a certain type of person that your favourite television show is Battlestar or Firefly, you are sometimes put in the ‘geek’ category, but it seems to me that in terms of quality and ability to describe the human condition, SF television shows can hold their own with the most pretentious dramas. In some ways, they are the final redoubts of romantic realism in drama.
Now, I wonder if that guy on the Tube was a Cylon…
[Editors note: for some previous thoughts on Battlestar Galactica on Samizdata, see here]
I am so tired of having to roar about the latest provocation-of-the-day from some Islamic barking moonbat that I really need to write about something else… so how about a paean to one of my favourite artists?
As a big, no, huge Frank Miller fan, delighting in the way he has darkened up an entire art form, rescuing it from both Disneyfication and political correctness, it is interesting to see how his influence has started to spread into other areas of the arts. However I was apprehensive that when I heard that Sin City was going to be turned into a movie… “unfilmable” was all I said when I heard. I was completely wrong and Sin City was a tour de force, unlike the attempt to translate Miller’s Elektra onto the screen, which was a disappointing mess inspite of featuring one of my favourite actresses.
So with the debacle of Elektra in mind, my reaction was rather dubious when I heard they were going to make 300 into a movie… oh me of little faith… having just watched the trailer, well, I am not used to having a film clip lasting 1 minute and 46 seconds sent a shiver up my spine quite like that. This is clearly one to watch on the largest screen possible.
Frank Miller has been one of the leading people adding a harder edge to US comics since the 1980’s, reclaiming a place in a medium in which I have always felt France and Japan lead the world. That he is now proving a source of interesting movies for Hollywood just increases my admiration for the man.
Duke Ellington has more in common with Ravel than with Snoop Dogg. Scott Joplin would have regarded today’s “black culture” as an oxymoron. To eliminate a century and a half’s tradition of beauty and grace from your identity isn’t “keepin’ it real”; it’s keepin’ millions of young black men and women unreal in ways the most malevolent bull-necked racist could never have devised.
– Mark Steyn
… bit of hugely entertaining fun. Heh, and you thought I was about to put the boot into the hideous and unspeakable David Cameron again, didn’t you? Not at all. I was introduced to H.P. Lovecraft’s works by an erudite Jamaican friend many years ago, who took a perverse delight in the author’s often insanely racist Neo-Gothic between-the-wars horror stories.
But now a band (or perhaps ‘cult’) of enthusiasts for Lovecraft’s lavishly adjectival genre of occult-cum-SciFi horror have made a 1920’s style silent movie called The Call of Cthulhu. It captures the spirit of the story and style of the era perfectly. I just received the DVD today and it was simply a delight to watch (if a tale of madness and horror can be thusly described). You too can view the full length version and have your sanity blasted away for the very reasonable sum of $20 + pp, simply by making the ‘voorish sign’ with your mouse here…
‘Fan art’ (for that is most certainly what this is) is often very turgid and accessible only to the initiated hardcore (be they ‘Trekkers’, ‘Xphiles’, ‘Whovians’ or whatever) but this splendid silent movie shot in ‘Mythoscope’, a process that makes it look like, well, a 1920’s silent movie, should delight enthusiasts not just of the narrow Cthulhu genre but fans of horror and silent movies generally.
In truth if the movie has a failing, it is actually rather too good to be a genuine 1920’s creation. Highly recommended.
A movie based around the death of Princess Diana and focussing on how Queen Elizabeth II dealt with the whole sorry business is not something that yours truly would expect to see, to be honest. However, having read so many rave reviews about Helen Mirren’s performance as the British monarch, I gave in and went to see it tonight. Definitely worth a look, is my verdict. Mirren is brilliant, uncannily believable. (Better get that Oscar speech ready, Helen). This film is surprising in a number of ways. The Queen comes across as a sympathetic character, bound up in a sense of duty that puts her at odds with the manic celebrity culture that developed around Diana. You sense, as the film goes on, that the qualities that have stood this lady in good stead for most of her life will ultimately prove more valuable than the meritricious arts of media manipulation and spin that have become associated with the court of Tony Blair.
Oddly, I will admit that the portrayal of Tony Blair surprised me by showing that this man, whom most Samizdata writers will regard with fair levels of loathing, comes across fairly well: someone who realised that the Queen was being bullied by an almost-deranged media and part of the British public. The guy playing spin-doctor-in-chief, Alastair Campbell, was also very good, showing that Campbell was, and is, one of the most malevolent persons to have held power in British life for many years, admittedly quite a feat.
I have fairly mixed views about monarchy. I suppose, given my brand of post-Enlightenment liberalism, that I should take a dim view of this institution and its representation of hereditary power, but one has to recognise that if we are to have a head of state at all, then there are distinct advantages if that head is a person who is not elected and hence a necessarily controversial figure but someone who gets the job through the lottery of birth and is restricted by checks and balances of a constitution. (There is a case for arguing why we need a head of state at all. The Swiss seem to have a sort of revolving mayoral system, which works fine). This film may not persuade people on either sides of the argument on the case for or against constitutional monarchy, but it is a thought-provoking film and also has the merit of being relatively short.
On the pipe again!
I can’t wait to get back on the pipe again.
I’ve got some mushrooms for my friends
But I just can’t wait to get back on the pipe again.
On the surface the story that veteran country singer Willie Nelson has been arrested for marijuana possession is nothing more then a bit of comic relief. Especially when you read that his sister Bobbie was arrested as well. One visualises these people, well into their 70’s in age, sitting round the camp fire, having a puff, tripping out on a few pharmaceutical mushrooms, and polishing their ‘geriatrics for grass’ buttons.
It is all rather ludicrous. However, even though I care little for country music and even less for marijuana, my own feeling is, well, good on them; people that get to their ‘Golden Years’ are entitled to as much enjoyment in life as the rest of us, after all.
However, we are not talking about your everyday geriatrics here. This is not your Aunt Mabel pottering around her back yard, but a popular entertainer who has a history of political causes behind him, and is by no means inactive in politics even at this late stage of his career.
Before the bust, the Farm Aid founder and his band were in his native Texas to headline Saturday’s Austin City Limits Music Festival. Nelson gave an interview there in which he urged politicians to scrap criminal penalties for pot possession.
Those sentiments echoed the platform of his pal Friedman, a singer-songwriter turned politician who’s mounting an independent bid for Texas governor and has called on the decriminalization of marijuana to help clear clogged state prisons of nonviolent offenders. Nelson has actively supported Friedman’s candidacy, hosting a $1,000-per-plate fundraising dinner and signing a petition to get Friedman on the ballot.
“The hundred times that Kinky and I have talked during his campaign – we talked about energy, health, biodiesel, immigration, war – and the pot thing has never come up. Of course, I felt always that I knew where Kinky stood on that, and he knew where I stood, but I also knew that it was very risky to bring that out politically, but what’s Kinky got to lose?” Nelson said.
Louisiana police will deny that they are in any way trying to ‘send a message’ but in their latest arrest of the country music legend, they have done nothing but highlight the utter uselessness of drug laws. That these laws are useless is as well known as the fact that the sky is blue and the sun rises in the east. Yet to get anywhere in reforming them, Nelson has to throw what prestige he has behind an oddball candidate like ‘Kinky’ Friedman.
What is wrong with this picture?
I’ve been lucky enough to win an Oscar, write a bestseller… my other dream would be to have a painting in the Louvre. The only way that’s going to happen is if I paint a dirty one on the wall of the gentlemen’s lavatory.
– David Niven, actor, writer and soldier.
Okay, it is very late on Thursday evening and I thought I would pose this question to our commenters for a bit of a Friday quiz before I go to bed:
What is the worst film you have ever seen?
(This thought was inspired by seeing a short trailer for a movie starring Jennifer Lopez).
Not much time to blog today… blame AnorakLight, Lynch Rider Lulu and Victoria Hume live at the Troubadour. Well recommended.
If you love innovative photography, particularly of landscapes and modern, soaring buildings at day and night, go and have a look at this. Wow. (Hat-tip, Andrew Sullivan).
I don’t find taking my clothes off difficult, it’s the acting that’s really hard!
– so said Elena, who is a thespian, last night after dinner at Samizdata HQ
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Who Are We? The Samizdata people are a bunch of sinister and heavily armed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the values of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many crimes is a sense of humour and the intermittent use of British spelling.
We are also a varied group made up of social individualists, classical liberals, whigs, libertarians, extropians, futurists, ‘Porcupines’, Karl Popper fetishists, recovering neo-conservatives, crazed Ayn Rand worshipers, over-caffeinated Virginia Postrel devotees, witty Frédéric Bastiat wannabes, cypherpunks, minarchists, kritarchists and wild-eyed anarcho-capitalists from Britain, North America, Australia and Europe.
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