Scamming with style

Geoff Edgers refers to this newly revealed "old" e-mail from Joyce Hatto's husband as "protesting too much." Well, yeah, but it also reveals what a pathologically charming character Mr. William Barrington-Coupe is. It's possible that he's just a pathetic guy who was desperately trying to cover up, but more and more he seems to me to be the type who loved the thrill of the hoax. I know he's now playing the tired and beaten-down role for sympathy, but I think it may be more a game to him than seems generally accepted. This newly revealed e-mail is laugh-out-loud funny; such grandiose prose, such excessive self-pity. In some ways, it's possibly one of the most successful pranks of all time, the kind that breezes along based on sheer brazen confidence and then, when revealed, makes everyone wonder how they could've been taken in. And, like the best of pranks, it hasn't really done any harm, especially if Ms. Hatto was part of it which I strongly suspect. I've already mentioned how the pianists whose recordings were stolen stand only to gain. What about those who bought the Hatto CDs? They had a great time listening to recordings that they loved. Isn't that why we buy recordings? I'd say they got their money's worth. I'm not saying that I advocate what Mr. B-C has done, but he sure did do it with style.

Great Moments in Movie History - Improv Edition

Sometimes, a script isn't necessary . . .

• The naches that I'm feeling right now... 'cause your dad was like mishpoche to me. When I heard I got these tickets to the Folksmen, I let out a geshreeyeh, and I'm running with my friend... running around like a vilde chaye, right into the theater, in the front row! So we've got the schpilkes, 'cause we're sittin' right there... and it's a mizvah, what your dad did, and I want to try to give that back to you. Okeinhoreh, I say, and God bless him. (Ed Begley Jr., A Mighty Wind)
• So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald... striking. So, I'm on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one - big hitter, the Lama - long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga... gunga, gunga-galunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, "Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know." And he says, "Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness." So I got that goin' for me, which is nice. (Bill Murray, Caddyshack)

The latter is widely appreciated, but the former is equally great.

Music at the Movies

I haven't yet written much about my Top 13 list of movies over there in the margin. Each of them deserves its own post, but as I was thinking about one of my favorite scenes from Junebug tonight, I began to realize that almost all these films have moments where music plays a memorable role - not just as soundtrack, but as part of the story. (Yes, that's true of a lot of movies.) In fact, although I've resisted the temptation to rank the 13 in order, I think these 9 with pivotal musical contributions are easily my Top 9. In brief:

• Big Night - lots of great tunes, but the dance to Louie Prima's "Buono Sera" stands out.
• Junebug - George's soft and tender performance of "Softly and Tenderly Jesus is Calling," set in a disarmingly realistic fellowship hall scene, almost made me rethink all my misgivings about that kind of hymn. And there are so many subtle interpersonal revelations in that scene. When I ask myself if Junebug belongs on this list, this scene is the answer. (Also the performances of Celia Weston and Scott Wilson; Amy Adams is charming, but the parents are two of the most convincing and affectingly portrayed roles I've ever seen.)
• Kolya - music is prominent throughout, but Kolya's rendition of the Dvorak 23rd Psalm over the closing credits kills me every time. Yes, it's sappy and manipulative. So what.
• Magnolia - maybe the best use of music in any movie. Paul Thomas Anderson's affinity for Aimee Mann's songs is one thing that makes this whole big mess work. The "Wise Up" scene, a bold and potentially embarrassing idea, is stunning.
• A Mighty Wind - just as I'd never have expected to be so moved by Aimee Mann, who would've thought I'd become so attached to faux folk music? I've listened to this soundtrack countless times. Somehow these performers found the perfect balance between being believable and hysterical. The music is funny in all sorts of ways, but also sweet and genuine, nowhere more so than in A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow.
• Moonstruck - let's just say that "O soave fanciulla" from La bohème is playing on Ronny's record player.
• The Purple Rose of Cairo - a heartbroken Cecilia is left to watch Fred Astaire twirl Ginger Rogers "Cheek to Cheek" across the screen.
• A Room with a View - Puccini, Puccini, Puccini. Dame Kiri sings Doretta's song from La Rondine to set the stage for an outing in the Italian countryside - of course George ends up kissing Lucy. Oh, and I think O mio babbino caro shows up as well.
• The Shawshank Redemption - Andy sneaks the letter duet from The Marriage of Figaro into the inmates' playlist. Red says, "I have no idea to this day what them two Italian ladies were singin' about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid.."

The four Top 13 movies that failed this challenge?

• Barcelona - Yes, there's a lot of good jazz and the unforgettable image of Ted's Bible-dancing. ("You're far weirder than someone merely into S & M. At least they have a tradition.") Still, I don't honestly remember what music was playing.
• A Fish Called Wanda - all I remember is a lot of bad 80's style music. This might be the most marginal member of my Top 13, but it's got Kevin Kline at his genius best.
• The Princess Bride - worst ever soundtrack for a good movie. It sounds like it was produced in someone's basement on a couple of Casios.
• Unbreakable - When I think of this movie, I think of silence as much as anything. I seem to remember an effective soundtrack, but one that is subtle and doesn't draw attention to itself. I need to watch this again.

UPDATE: When I wrote this post, Chariots of Fire wasn't on this list, although I've since put it there. I have mixed feelings about the Vangelis soundtrack, but there's little question that the Gilbert and Sullivan excerpts are crucial components of the movie; there's also a wonderful Presbyterian hymn that sets up a scene and, of course, the use of Jerusalem. All in all, a pretty musical movie.

UPDATE (9/4/22): I recently re-watched The Graduate for at least the seventh or eighth time and it made me wonder if I'd put that movie on this list - turns out I hadn't. As much as I love The Graduate, it has a few flaws that maybe would put it...well, right about at #15 on my list behind the ones listed above. However, from a music point of view, the role of Simon & Garfunkel's songs is as crucial as in most of the movies listed above. Most specifically, the framing role of The Sounds of Silence which opens, closes, and accompanies a memorable mid-film sequence, but also [SPOILER ALERT] the way the rhythmic guitar riff from Mrs. Robinson accompanies Ben's desperate search for Elaine's wedding. I always especially enjoyed the way the guitar runs out of gas around 1:25 into this scene.

Obsession - for a bargain!

My new obsession is officially the last of the Lieberson Neruda Songs. Although I'm usually good at spotting an iTunes bargain, I now realize that iTunes only charges $4.99 for this whole album (5 songs, about 30 minutes in length). I paid something like $13.99 for the disc, but I don't regret it at all. I'm still getting to know them, but the last song, Amor, mio, certainly qualifies as an obsession for me right now. The poignancy of the music, words, and biography for composer and singer is almost unbearable. It's hard to tell how much of my reaction is affected by the story, but it doesn't really matter. I'm still working out what I think of the rest of the cycle and don't know the poetry well enough to comment.

I know I'm far from the first to succumb to this music which has already acquired legendary status. But, for any students out there reading this who haven't heard of the songs and who don't listen to enough music, pay the 99 cents for the last song at a minimum. You'll probably go back for the others.

As Geoff Edgers noted a few months back, for some inexplicable reason iTunes lists this recording as having "clean lyrics" as if there were some other version, but that's just a typical iTunes glitch, something quite common with their classical selections. They still have up Glenn Gould's 1955 Goldberg Variations posted in a version that's only available "by the track"; to buy the whole 45-minute performance would cost you $32! They've since added another version of that recording which can be bought as an album for $11.99, but why the former is still there is a mystery.

Active vs. Passive (vs. Braindead?)

Wow, this quote from Stravinsky which I found on yet another excellent classical music blog (just kill me now) about the downside of radio and phonograph records seems like it could've been written yesterday about the world of instantly downloadable mp3s.

[from Stravinsky's autobiography] Today anyone, living no matter where, has only to turn a knob or put on a record to hear what he likes. Indeed it is in just this incredible facility, this lack of necessity for any effort, that the evil of this so-called progress lies. For in music, more than in any other branch of art, understanding is given only to those who make an active effort. Passive receptivity is not enough. To listen to certain combinations of sound and automatically become accustomed to them does not necessarily imply that they have been heard and understood. For one can listen without hearing, just as one can look without seeing. The absence of active effort and the liking acquired for this facility make for laziness. [Go here for more.]

So here's my "when I was a young, I had to walk 30 miles in the snow . . . " take on things. Obviously I don't remember a world in which there was no radio or recording industry, but I do remember living in a small town in Arkansas where there were probably no more than 10 classical records for sale. Part of the joy of falling in love with music was the excitement of browsing through records (reading the liner notes right there on the back cover) when I was lucky enough to get to a real record store out of town. Of course, if someone had offered me the opportunity to hop onto iTunes and have that huge catalog (exponentially larger than what I could find in the record stores I got to) available instantaneously in not-so-easily scratched form, my hair would have surely combusted spontaneously. But the ol' geezer truth is that there was something important about having to seek that music out and valuing those opportunities so deeply. I'm not ashamed to say that I treasured the 500 or so records I collected as objects as well as for the music they contained and I suspect my connection with the music was furthered by that pride of ownership. Don't get me wrong, I would never go back to the LP days (nor would I return to south Arkansas), but I suspect the current generation of students is missing out on something by having everything so easy to get to. In my limited experience with students, they don't seem to be taking advantage of it. OK, I'm sounding really old so I'm just going to get off this high horse right now and take in a little YouTube.