Classic Ross Amico

Category: Daily Dispatch

Rediscovering Black Composers

Time was, one really had to scrape to pull together a good Black History program. My, how things have changed! The past few years have seen an explosion of recordings and wider exposure for composers once known mostly to record collectors. Who knew that Florence Price would one day be played everywhere?

This week on “Sweetness and Light,” I feel sheepish even making it a two-parter, as I’m still merely skating across the surface. But it is, after all, a light music show.

Enjoy a second cup of coffee with Afro-British composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor; the “Dean of Afro-American composers,” William Grant Still; former slave “Blind Tom” Wiggins (allegedly once the highest-paid pianist of the 19th century); Philadelphia-born bugle virtuoso Francis Johnson (including his “Princeton Gallopade”); and Duke Ellington.

Next year, maybe I’ll make it a four-parter. Or better yet, be more conscious about including more of this music throughout the year. I try, but I can’t tell you how many times things get cut, so that I can fit it all into an hour. (Apologies to you, Scott Joplin, Eubie Blake, and Edmond Dédé!)

Good music is not a black and white issue. I hope you’ll join me for another “Sweetness and Light,” music calculated to charm and to cheer. It’s part two of “Black and Light,” this Saturday morning at 11:00 EST/8:00 PST, exclusively on KWAX, the radio station of the University of Oregon!

Listen to it, wherever you are, at the link:

https://kwax.uoregon.edu/

PHOTO: Have coffee with the Duke

February 24, 2024
Gilded Age Novels on Film A Picture Perfect Series

The opening scene of Martin Scorsese’s “The Age of Innocence,” in which Newland Archer (Daniel Day-Lewis) first glimpses his cousin, Ellen Olenska, during a performance of Gounod’s “Faust,” was actually shot at the Academy of Music in Philadelphia. I remember the call for anyone with a tux to come down to the Academy so that they could fill out the balconies with extras. Sadly, I had to work (not that I owned a tux).

“The Age of Innocence” is but one of the films we’ll be treating this week on “Picture Perfect,” as the focus will be on adaptations from novels of, or about, the Gilded Age. “The Gilded Age” was a term coined by none other than Mark Twain to describe the era extending roughly from the end of Reconstruction (following the Civil War) to the turn of the 20th century. He didn’t mean it as a compliment. A gilded age is one which conceals serious social problems beneath a veneer of gold.

“The Heiress” (1949) was adapted from a play by Ruth and Augustus Goetz, which in turn was based on the Henry James’ novel, “Washington Square.” Olivia De Havilland is the “plain Jane” heiress of the title, Ralph Richardson her overbearing father, and Montgomery Clift, the adventurer who may or may not be out for her fortune. De Havilland won an Oscar for her portrayal, as did the music, by Aaron Copland.

“The Age of Innocence” (1993) is based on a novel by one-time James correspondent and close friend, Edith Wharton. The book was published in 1920, but looks back to the 1870s, its story dealing with the impending marriage of an upper class couple and the appearance of a disreputable interloper who threatens their happiness. The title is an ironic play on the outward manners of New York society, in contrast to its inward machinations. The novel earned a Pulitzer Prize, the first Pulitzer awarded to a woman. The film was something of a curve ball from director Martin Scorsese, who made his name on meaner streets. Veteran composer Elmer Bernstein provided a lovely, Brahmsian score.

“The Magnificent Ambersons” (1942) is based on another Pulitzer Prize winner, this time by Booth Tarkington, from 1918. The novel is part of trilogy that tells the story of the declining fortunes of three generations of an aristocratic Midwestern family, between the end of the Civil War and the early years of the 20th century. With industrialism on the rise, the Ambersons’ “old money” wealth and prestige wane.

“Ambersons” became the basis for only the second film directed by Orson Welles. By that time, however, the fall-out from “Citizen Kane” caused the film to be removed from Welles’ control and re-cut by the studio, shaving a full hour off the original running time. It says something about the quality of the film that it yet remains in itself a magnificent achievement.

The score was by Bernard Herrmann, CBS staff composer from Welles’ radio days. Herrmann had followed Welles to Hollywood to provide the music for “Citizen Kane.” Like the film, the score was drastically edited, with half the music removed. The famously irascible Herrmann, who had just written his Academy Award winning music for “The Devil and Daniel Webster,” was so angry that he threatened legal action if his name was not removed from the credits.

The action of “Mr. Skeffington” (1944), based on a 1940 novel by Elizabeth von Arnim, begins at a point some consider the end of the Gilded Age, the eve of World War I. Bette Davis stars as a woman so enamored of her own beauty and the suitors it attracts that she fails to value the affections of the man who eventually becomes her husband. Mr. Skeffington, played by Claude Rains, is a Jewish financier, riding high in the ‘teens, but his fortunes change when he’s caught in Europe during the rise of the Nazis.

Both Davis and Rains earned Academy Award nominations for their work. The vivid score is by Franz Waxman. Davis was going through a period of emotional turmoil during the filming, so that she was allegedly insufferable to everyone during the entire shoot. Someone finally poisoned her eyewash. When the police questioned the director, Vincent Sherman, he wished them good luck with their investigation. “If you asked everyone on the set who would have committed such a thing, everyone would raise their hand!”

Certainly all that glitters is not gold, this week. We peel back the veneer of prosperity with “Novels of the Gilded Age,” on “Picture Perfect,” music for the movies, now in syndication on KWAX, the radio station of the University of Oregon!

Remember, KWAX is on the West Coast, so there’s a three-hour difference for those of you listening in the East. Here are the respective air-times for all three of my recorded shows (with East Coast conversions in parentheses):

PICTURE PERFECT, the movie music show – Friday on KWAX at 5:00 PM PACIFIC TIME (8:00 PM EST)

SWEETNESS AND LIGHT, the light music program – ALL NEW! – Saturday on KWAX at 8:00 AM PACIFIC TIME (11:00 AM EST)

THE LOST CHORD, unusual and neglected rep – Saturday on KWAX at 4:00 PM PACIFIC TIME (7:00 PM EST)

Stream all three, at the times indicated, by following the link!

https://kwax.uoregon.edu/

February 23, 2024
Radical Opera or Handel’s Genius?

So many modern opera productions of the classics are radically, even provocatively, reimagined, ill-considered, half-baked, and just plain tiresome. I don’t want to pay big bucks to go to an opera house to have my eyes assaulted by a bunch of grotesque imagery calculated to undermine the glorious music. If I want to feel grim and depressed, it’s much less expensive to go to the movies. It’s the composers’ genius that has kept opera alive all these years, not the desperate antics of flash-in-the-pan directors.

That said, every once in a while, a bold swing for the fences thrillingly connects. Fresh approaches to Baroque opera, in particular, seem to have yielded their share of unexpected delights, perhaps because the old ways often pretty much reflected what Peter Schaffer’s Mozart complained about, in his earthy fashion, when he characterized the kind of opera peopled with classical and historical heroes as being moribund, the characters so lofty that they sound as if they defecate marble.

In some respects, I suppose, I am a product of my time, so I don’t mind a little flash now and again, to keep things lively, even if it is a concession to the eye more than to the ear. I was delighted by David McVicar’s take on George Frideric Handel’s “Agrippina,” for instance, with, in one manic aria, mad Nero cutting cocaine with a credit card.

Now, for Handel’s birthday, here’s one to set aside for the weekend. A traditional production of “Giulio Cesare in Egitto” (“Julius Caesar in Egypt”) opens in 48 B.C. This one, however, is built on the premise of a Howard Carter-like figure uncovering an Egyptian tomb in the 1920s – only to have the contents spring to life. The approach was conceived by George Petrou, artistic director of the International Handel Festival Göttingen.

The production opens with a quote from Carl Jung, rendered in the style of a silent movie intertitle: “Where love reigns, there is no will to power, and where power takes precedence, love is absent. One is the shadow of the other.” Cleopatra emerges from a sarcophagus, the priests are all dressed like Anubis, canine-headed Egyptian lord of the underworld, and there are mummies all over the place. Nireno’s aria that opens Act II is given ‘20s-style jazz inflections. Furthermore, on this occasion, it is sung from the wings while lip-synched and pantomimed by the production’s assistant director, because the scheduled singer was under the weather!

Handel was 39 when he wrote the music. Is the production in line with what the composer imagined? Well, not exactly, but it looks like it could be inventive and fun, in an escapist kind of way. I look forward to sitting down and watching the whole thing. Nothing screams Handel like hot sand, jodhpurs, and pith helmets.

Happy birthday, Handel!

February 23, 2024
Vikings 1958 Epic Adventure & Livestream

This week on Roy’s Tie-Dye Sci-Fi Corner, we’ve got the need for mead!

“The Vikings” (1958) is the kind of film they just don’t make anymore, an overheated historical adventure built on sibling rivalry, cosmic irony, Wagnerian tragedy, and ultimate redemption, with plenty of old-school romance and rip-roaring action along the way.

Richard Fleischer, who directed some terrific genre pictures in the 1950s and ‘60s, including “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” and “Fantastic Voyage,” helms the definitive film about the Norsemen.

This is one movie that still grips and entertains, even as it educates (sort of) with its meticulous reconstruction of Viking dragon boats (built using actual medieval Viking plans) and period-accurate village setting in the actual fjords of Hardanger, Norway.

Kirk Douglas produced the film, which is certainly a showcase for his physical fitness. So we see him riding bareback, running across oars, and climbing a closed drawbridge on an impromptu ladder of hurled battle axes – while co-star Tony Curtis looks on sullenly in his short shorts. At least Curtis was married to the leading lady, Janet Leigh. That said, no one looks like he’s having more fun than Ernest Borgnine. But you just know Ernie was like that in real life.

“The Vikings” stealthily draws you into a relatable human story even as it offers up the vicarious enjoyment of Viking excesses. And Mario Nascimbene’s haunting score, evocative of a spirit of grandeur and adventure – now seemingly (and sadly) a thing of the past, as today’s movies become increasingly mired in claustrophobia and neurosis – is not easily forgotten, a thing of beauty and nobility.

Grab your drinking horn! There will be wenching and pillaging galore in the comments section, as Roy and I trade blows over “The Vikings.” Our brawny exchange will be livestreamed on Facebook, YouTube, etc., this Friday evening at 7:00 EST!

There’s “Nor-way” you’ll want to miss it!

ODINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!

https://www.facebook.com/roystiedyescificorner

Enjoy a recent recording of Nascimbene’s music here:

February 22, 2024
Delibes, Kung Fu Theater, and Stolen Scores

It’s Léo Delibes’ birthday. So naturally, my thoughts turn to kung fu!

Perhaps you’re familiar with Delibes from his ballet music, or from his opera Lakmé, with its famous “Flower Duet” and “Bell Song.” But if you made it a habit to tune in to “Kung Fu Theater” in the 1980s, you may also have encountered the “Procession of Bacchus.”

Granted, for some, this will be an arcane reference point. I can’t even remember what film, myself. But face it, all of those kung fu titles were randomly chosen from a scrambled short list of maybe eight or ten words anyway (i.e. Shaolin, jade, dragon, master, deadly, invincible, mantis, Buddhist, fist, etc.).

Of course, I was one of a presumably tiny subset that always found the musical choices entertaining. There were purloined movie soundtracks from much better-known, western films, alongside the occasional snippet of classical music. And yes, every once in a while, there was an original score.

Spaghetti western music was especially well-represented, with a lot of Morricone (presumably uncompensated). Sometimes there would be the odd needle-drop from John Williams. There were also many, many brief tracks that were often very nearly recognizable, yet always frustratingly just out of reach.

Now, I find a page on the website of Kung Fu Magazine on which some committed disciple has taken it upon himself to identify the music of kung fu. He’s done a fairly impressive job of it, too. Though I still can’t find the kung fu movie I watched on my tiny, rabbit-eared set in the college dorms that opened with the “Procession of Bacchus” from Léo Delibes’ ballet “Sylvia.”

https://www.kungfumagazine.com/forum/archive/index.php/t-63823.html

I miss “Kung Fu Theater!”

On a related note, someone must have sold some sort of institutional record library to Princeton Record Exchange. A lot of the CDs have stickers on them that read “LIBRARY COPY: PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE.” They’re in pristine shape (of course, they are; why would anyone be interested in listening to classical music?), so I’ve been filling in around the edges of my personal collection. This involves, among other things, picking up a fair amount of ballet music by Léo Delibes and others. Since I started doing the light music show for KWAX, it astonishes me, with a collection of 10,000+ CDs and records, how many holes there are in my library. It really brings home how often I used to spackle in with short selections from the library of a certain local classical music station I used to work for, that ironically now pumps in most of its content from outside sources.

If I hadn’t gotten into radio, I think my dream job would have been choosing the music, fabricating the translations for, and dubbing ‘70s kung fu movies.

Happy birthday, Léo Delibes!

Delibes without all the ponytails and bamboo:

“Procession of Bacchus”

“Flower Duet” from “Lakmé”

“Bell Song” from “Lakmé”

Pizzicato from “Sylvia”

Waltz from “Coppélia”

Before A.I., there was kung fu! How else to explain the word salad in this sublime trailer for “The Buddha Assassinator” (1980)?

“The Dragon, the Hero” (1979) opens with Morricone, from “The Big Gundown.” There’s also some John Williams, from “Star Wars,” no less, played during the kill around the 20-minute mark.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDQ1mI6Z2QY

Strong opener for “Fist of the White Lotus,” music credited to Eddie Wang, but sounding an awful lot like it was lifted from Ron Goodwin’s score for “Where Eagles Dare.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0YhUl0kdHo

February 21, 2024

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