The musicals I've performed alone in my bedroom (straight through, with costumes) are generally dated pre-1980s, so it's always refreshing & encouraging to hear that, yes, people are still composing for Broadway. I can sing & gush through any Sondheim musical front-to-back, but even I don't believe ol' Stevie is making a comeback anytime soon (winning "Best Revival of a Musical" every other year does not count). Remarks of Broadway plummeting into extinction have lead to comparisons with opera's road of esotericism. I'll admit that all musicals share a distinctive quality; sui generis. Perhaps this is why critics can't see the art progressing any further than box office of Andrew Lloyd Webber rock operas.
So I'm reminded that musical theater's credo is revival (full of hope) & its modern-day composers are ceaselessly remaking Broadway's sound (while staying true to Gay, Gilbert & Sullivan). The best composers today are those who use what they know & what they've lived. Jason Robert Brown's heartbreaking The Last Five Years (2001) goes both ways in time & the audience witnesses the same marriage simultaneously beginning & falling apart. tick, tick...BOOM! (1990) is basically a musical portrayal of Jonathan Larson's aspiring-composer/SoHo-cafe-waitering days, while his notorious Rent sings about every bohemian topic possible (including Sondheim).
The blurring of contemporary pop sounds with the roots of blues music & the technique of classical voices is what makes listening to a cast album the greatest joy (I swear). Success is a song capable of being taken out of stage-context & placed solitary among another genre. In The Heights sounds to me sometimes like an R&B ballad, sometimes rap, salsa, merengue etc etc., but when I hear the rolling suspended cymbal closing the finale, I know I'm pretty much home.
In The Heights is this years Tony award winning musical written/composed by twenty-eight year old Lin-Manuel Miranda. He also stars in the show, but don't worry - he's tremendous. It was nominated thirteen times & took home four wins (including Best Musical).
*But actually, the opening number begins exactly as West Side Story's "America." Goody.
I was recently reading Truman Capote's Breakfast at Tiffany's, & despite Capote's casting requests, I just don't see Holly Golightly as a Marilyn Monroe. She's so clearly an Audrey Hepburn.
To no surprise, there have been thousands of films based on novels, short stories, & comics. This season's line-up of movies contain a number of adaptations from books I've already read - ultimately diminishing my desire to see them. When I do watch a book-based-film I must try to forget my preconceptions of, well, everything - for they rarely coincide with the director's. Although fantasy films may serve as visual indulgence, they're no game for (highly resourceful) imaginations. & despite never actually having re-read a Harry Potter book - Danielle Radcliffe was in. my. head. after the premier of Sorcerer's Stone.
During my A Beautiful Mind phase I not only repeatedly watched the film, but also spent hours listening to the (instrumental) soundtrack. Boombox in the washroom during baths? I was all over that shit. I actually brought the movie to a friend's birthday party along with an excuse like, "Your name is Alicia & so is the heroine in this supersupersuper movie!". So it was obvious to me to read the book which had inspired the movie. I remember a school secretary asking me one afternoon how the book was: "Great! But...different than the movie."
As a child, Jane Austen, Roald Dahl & the Narnia series served as wonderful material to get drunk on, & became so perfectly & elementally set in my mind, making early books the hardest to grapple with on screen. Colin Firth is a fox, & although being the quintessential Mr. Darcy to many girls, he just isn't mine. & despite thinking Tim Burton delightful - the only thing we share are the proportions between James & his giant peach. I love books & I love films. Sometimes I love films based on books - but I'd prefer to keep both entities separate.
Twilight comes out this December & I'm already sick of hearing about it. I'm looking forward to The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, not because it's my favourite Fitzgerald short story (it is), but because David Fincher is attempting such an ambitious plot. I'm terrified of how Blindness is going to turn out (a novel can only handle so much butchering, & there's enough of that between the covers). Choke remains, like most Chuck Palahniuk related things, up in the air. & of course, I've already made plans to watch The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2.
I'm happy to say my first subscription to The New Yorkerarrived in the mail today, & interestingly enough the cover displays this controversial cartoon by Barry Blitt titled The Politics of Fear:
Reactions to Blitt's satirical cover-art have been disparate to say the least, ranging from urges for editor David Remnick's resignation to comparisons to the (well-received) ironic comedy of Stephen Colbert. & of course, there are those who wish to know what the drama is really about (really).
Being one who embarrassingly lacks in the political department, I don't claim to possess an enlightened perspective on "The Politics of Fear" & if I did, I'm sure someone else has already written about it by now. I do believe that every generation contains it's own cultural borders which may not appear so distinct during the time. Art (speaking liberally) is meant to generate discourse & satire is meant to generate...an ironic chuckle? I've read that Blitt's fault lies in his "gutless" caricature of the Obama's; that had Blitt only made more of an overstatement to show this. really. was. satire. - America would have been left less confused & offended.
If anyone cares, the (serious) articles within this weeks issue related to Obama are pretty good. Read them here & here.
The old debate over whether graffiti is art or vandalism (or perhaps both) is wonderfully illustrated (oh but literally) in this trailer. Here the artist is put on trail - both in court & in conscience - when forced to meditate upon motives behind his spray-painted creations.
The artist - Peter Gibson- is a local Montrealer & this past year, I've apparently blindly ambled across streets bearing his very work.
Spoiler: All charges against Gibson were dropped & his payment to the city was a small fine & 40 hours of community work. Personally, I'll be in the Plateau come Fall with my eyes to the ground.
They start off perfectly bad. Wake up & hesitate to brush your teeth/sit in bed feeling rueful about some incident (dated, vague)/convincing yourself shame is a sign of self-honesty.
Work was awful, puddles, Chinese take-out. She thought: that almost rhymes.
Similar to this & this, it was about time Canada created an award for best album based on pure "artistic merit."
This past week, the Polaris Music Prize has announced its short list (10 albums narrowed down from 40). The judging system is pretty hep, involving a 178-person jury of qualified music journalists (none of whom have financial ties to nominated artists) each submitting a top 5 list, which ultimately becomes the short list. During the Polaris Awards gala held late September, a further 11-member Grand Jury tapers this list to one final winner.
A glance at the 40 album long list gives a fairly accurate portrait of an indie music blogger's "Best of 2008" playlist. But then again, I'm not complaining. The "difficulty" of a vague selection criteria such as musical merit is fairly obvious - I can't begin to confidently predict a winner. I'd like to see Holy Fuck up there, although the ever-nostalgic Stars would come as a personal victory (haters to the left).
The 2008 short list: Black Mountain – In The Future Plants And Animals – Parc Avenue Basia Bulat – Oh, My Darling Stars – In Our Bedroom After The War Caribou – Andorra Shad – The Old Prince Kathleen Edwards – Asking For Flowers Two Hours Traffic – Little Jabs Holy Fuck – LP The Weakerthans – Reunion Tour
Past winners include Patrick Watson (Close to Paradise) & Final Fantasy (He Poos Clouds).
