Southern Bookman

Rediscovering Norman Blake on a gray Sunday afternoon

We usually keep the Christmas tree up through New Year's Day, but this year we took it down early.

Family members gone home, the holiday bustle past, the house felt empty on a dreary Sunday. Searching through my long-neglected CD collection, I found Norman Blake's  album, "Whiskey Before Breakfast."

Listening again to Blake's flat-picking and singing on "Hand Me Down My Walking Cane," "The Girl I Left Behind in Sunny Tennessee," and "Church Street Blues" renewed my faith in old truths and enduring stories.

Blake's virtuoso guitar playing on instrumentals "The Minstrel Boy to the War Has Gone/Ash Grove," "Macon Rag" and "Whiskey Before Breakfast" brightened the day.

As 2019 dwindles and a momentous new year looms, I return to Blake and others who taught my generation the splendor of American musical traditions. Sadly, too many of them died young: Richard Farina, Janis Joplin, Clarence White, Gram Parsons, Duane Allman, Richard Manuel, Levon Helm, Rick Danko.

Blake, Emmylou Harris, Willie Nelson, Ry Cooder and others forge on as another decade comes.

Their music promises that better days will come.

 

 

 

 

 

Wyatt Prunty made Sewanee Writers Conference special

Sewanee Writers Conference founding director Wyatt Prunty is stepping aside after 30 years running the "summer camp for adults" with uncommon grace and professionalism.

Tributes to Wyatt in the Sewanee Review's current issue brought memories of my participation in the first two conferences, funded by a legacy from Tennessee Williams. A noted poet, critic and Sewanee professor, Wyatt made the conference a success from the start.

He was a genial, quiet presence at the conference's many social events. A generous host who kept the conference running smoothly, Wyatt rarely interjected himself into the mingling of poets, novelists, playwrights, agents and publishers. When he did, such as suddenly playing harmonica at a sing-along around the piano, or enlivening a conversation for a sunlit moment with an astute comment or observation before moving on to the next group, participants felt blessed. Those brief interactions made us feel as if he knew and cared about each of us.

The two-week midsummer stay at Sewanee's secluded mountain campus inspired a deep commitment to writing and literature. Sharing breakfast and dinner with luminaries like John Hollander, Howard Nemerov, Tim O'Brien, David Justice, Mona Van Duyn and Robert Stone made us feel part of a literary community. The workshops, individual tutorials and readings raised us to a higher artistic level.

I'll never forget Peter Taylor's courageous reading. Mr. Taylor, still recovering from a stroke, read from one of his marvelous stories. He at times got stuck on a word, but pressed on to the end. I'm honored to say that Mr. Taylor took a liking to me, inviting me to his house in Sewanee for a reception for writing conference faculty members. Talking with him and his wife and wonderful poet, Eleanor Ross Taylor, and intermingling with writers like Ernest Gaines, I thought i had gone to heaven without dying.

The writing conference co-existed with a gathering of high-school musicians. Walking to a workshop or lecture along one of the school's Gothic archways, a writer would come upon a young flutist or violinist practicing. Those brief interludes of music lifted our hearts with the joy and beauty of art.

Before saying farewell to Sewanee, we gathered in the school's magnificent chapel for the young musicians' final concert. They played on each side of us, their Bach and Mozart enveloping us. Such a gift from them as we returned to the world.

Linda Ronstadt documentary traces singer's meteoric career, heart-breaking loss of voice

Linda Ronstadt possessed the greatest range and versatility of any American singer.

The documentary "Linda Ronstadt: The Sound of My Voice" traces the singer's spectacular career and the heart-breaking loss of her glorious instrument because of Parkinson's Disease.

Former boyfriend J.D. Souther and fellow pop stars Emmylou Harris, Don Henley, Jackson Browne, Bonnie Raitt, Dolly Parton and others praise Ronstadt for her supple voice and daring career. We hear from record magnate David Geffen, and former manager Peter Asher. They recall a woman who overcame a lack of confidence in her early days to forge a career that moved far beyond the boundaries of pop music.

Video clips show Ronstadt's performances as a beautiful, mesmerizing young woman. She often starts a song quietly, then stuns the audience with the full force of her voice. Like Aretha Franklin, Ronstadt displays unlimited reserves of power.

The most poignant tribute comes from Kevin Kline, Ronstadt's co-star in the Broadway revival of Gilbert and Sullivan's "The Pirates of Penzance." Kline remembers being moved to tears by hearing Ronstadt's flawless bel-canto voice at the musical's first rehearsal. Scenes of her operetta performance will make musical lovers wish she'd starred in more theatrical productions.

Unlike singer-songwriters like Joni Mitchell, Ronstadt was a throwback to an earlier era when artists such as Frank Sinatra and Peggy Lee interpreted songs written by others.

Ronstadt's voice, larger than other rock stars', pushed songs like "Blue Bayou" and "When Will I Be Loved" to new heights. Reviving American-songbook standards in an album arranged by Nelson Riddle, Ronstadt found her true calling. Later, Ronstadt honored her heritage by recording classic Mexican songs.

Countering record company executives' demands that she stick with hit-proven pop songs, Ronstadt's American Songbook and Mexican albums were best-sellers.

In moving beyond rock and folk, Ronstadt brought her audience to a new musical sophistication and appreciation for jazz, country, Broadway musicals and ethnic music.

The film ends with a heart-breaking scene of Ronstadt struggling with her depleted voice to sing along with her nephew on a Mexican folk song.

Now, the voice that once soared to the highest musical registers can barely rise above a whisper. Ronstadt accepts the loss without regret or bitterness, grateful for the time she was touched by God.

 

 

Remembering John Lennon

The 39th anniversary of John Lennon's murder passed without much fanfare.

On the night of Dec. 8, 1980, Lennon was returning with his wife, Yoko Ono, to their home at the Dakota Apartments in New York City when Lennon was shot four times in the back by Mark David Chapman. The seriously wounded musician was rushed to Roosevelt Hospital, where he was pronounced dead on arrival. The news was first broadcast to a shocked nation by Howard Cosell during a Monday night football game between the Patriots and the Dolphins.

Mark Strong, my friend and colleague at the Columbus Ledger-Enquirer, and I put out a newspaper special section honoring the former co-leader of the Beatles who stirred controversy with his and Yoko's political activism supporting world peace. Ledger-Enquirer advertising and circulation execs objected to us giving such attention to Lennon in a conservative small Southern city, but our executive editor, the legendary Glenn Vaughn, never uttered a word. If I recall correctly, the special section was a big seller.

Looking back, I'm amazed at how much Lennon meant to me and others of our generation. My late friend Loftin and I loved Lennon intensely. We liked Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr, but we saw Lennon, along with Bob Dylan, as the true voices of our generation.

We waited breathlessly for each new Beatles album to arrive from England, always at this time of year. After the band's earth-shaking early pop hits, mainly co-written by Lennon and McCartney, the two began diverging into writing separate songs on ever more ambitious albums like "Rubber Soul," "Revolver" and "Sgt. Pepper." Their partnership still shone with brilliance on collaborations like "A Day in the Life," which memorably ended "Sgt. Pepper." Lennon's work turned edgier and more mystical, while McCartney remained more pop-oriented.

While many Beatles fans opposed Lennon's marriage to Yoko, we enjoyed her collaborations with him. We remained enthralled by Lennon's solo career after he broke with the Beatles. Lennon's political activism was a big influence on our worldview. He joined Joe Namath and Muhammad Ali as my main anti-establishment heroes.

A lot of Lennon's antics look silly now. But I will always keep a flame burning for him in my heart. When I hear songs like "Norwegian Wood," "I'm So Tired," "Come Together,"  and "Imagine," I'm transported to my youth.

Happy Thanksgiving

It's time to give thanks for our blessings.

This year has dealt me highs and lows. Here are a few snapshots from my 2019 album.

Eight days in the hospital. I'm thankful for the doctors and nurses who helped me feel better again.

A trip to New York City to see Jeff Daniels' masterful performance as Atticus Finch in Aaron Sorkin's theater adaptation of Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird."

The Miro show at the MOMA, before the museum closed to receive a new look. Miro's stance against Fascism in the 1930s gives us courage to resist Trump and the GOP's assaults on truth and human dignity. I was overwhelmed by Picasso's "Guernica" when I first visited MOMA nearly 50 years ago. I'm looking forward to visiting yet another new MOMA.

Trips to Portugal and Amelia Island, Fla., two places where rivers join the Atlantic Ocean. Both are threatened by rising sea levels and the crush of tourism. Like distant cousins, they are battling to preserve their proud cultures.

The Braves' rush to the pennant. Joe Burrow and the Tigers. Anne-Marie and I getting together with our children Sara, Luke and Ruthie in Nashville, Tenn. Learning to play Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" on the piano.

We'll soon turn the calendar to another year, which looms as one of history's crossroads. The personal decisions of millions will determine whether the nation follows the course of freedom or an American totalitarianism.

No matter what happens, truth and beauty eventually will prevail.

 

Farewell, John Simon

For a little while in my younger days, I fell under John Simon's curmudgeonly spell.

The brutal critic's claims to the precise use of English appealed to my language-purist side. For a while, I reveled in his acerbic theater, movie and book reviews in New York magazine and other publications.

Simon, who took a sick pleasure in blasting intellectually fashionable plays, films and books, died at age 94 Monday after suffering a stroke.

After a while, I found that Simon's attacks came more from personal spite than critical acumen. He unfairly disparaged gay, black and women artists. While he claimed total honesty, he violated the critic's duty to respect the theater.

Simon contributed to my intellectual and artistic education. But like the late Hilton Kramer, he was an intellectually dishonest bully who unfairly damaged theatrical, film and literary careers.

 

Emmylou Harris shares love, music with Atlanta fans

Emmylou Harris gave adoring fans a generous helping of beloved songs Sunday night in a performance at Atlanta's Symphony Hall.

Now white-haired like many of those in the audience, the 72-year-old Harris kept the love flowing. Her energy remains high, her voice glorious.

Harris upheld the protest-song tradition with a searing anthem about Emmitt Till's murder in Mississippi, and a number honoring a Nashville program that matches foster children with pet animals.

With her band tautly ranging from rockabilly to bluegrass to old-time mountain laments, Harris thrilled the crowd with favorites like "Together Again," "Green Pastures" and "Pancho and Lefty."

She honored her early muse and partner Gram Parsons with "Las Vegas" and "Wheels," leaving Parsons fans longing for a few more songs from "Grevious Angel," "GP" or "The Gilded Palace of Sin."

Along with a heart-tugging encore of her own "Boulder to Birmingham," Harris presented an anthology of American songwriters, from James Taylor to Don Williams. Her signature performance of Billy Joe Shaver's "Old Five and Dimers" mirrored the life experience of the many aging hipsters present.

She closed the show with a rousing cover of Neil Young's "Long May You Run," raising our hopes of carrying on.

Leonardo Da Vinci exhbit at Louvre reflects unity of his artistic, scientific work

Leonardo da Vinci's astonishing life unified art and science, which later tragically split into separate realms.

A monumental exhibit at the Louvre in Paris that opened Thursday reflects how Leonardo's art and scientific endeavors reflected each other. The exhibit is a major cultural event, with extensive reviews in The New York Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal and other publications.

Marking the 500th anniversary of Leonardo's death, the exhibit gathers 160 drawings, manuscripts, sculptures and paintings organized to trace Leonardo's development from youth to old age.

Adding to the Louvre's collection, major museums from around the world lent works to the exhibit, the result of intense negotiations, as detailed in a recent Wall Street Journal article.

A last minute court ruling in Italy allowed Leonardo's delicate Vitruvian Man diagram to travel from Venice to Paris. Its artistry and scientific precision is on a spectrum with his great paintings such as John the Baptist, the Madonna of the Rocks and the Virgin and Child With St. Anne.

Leonard's most famous painting, the Mona Lisa, remains on another floor of the Louvre. The enigmatic painting receives a throng of visitors, which would make the exhbit's crowds unmanageable.

A portrait of the elderly Leonardo drawn by one of his assistants comes at the close of the exhibit, a testament to Leonardo's humanity.

The Louvre has gathered a bountiful selection of Leonardo's scattered works into a comprehensive whole. As humanity's worst attributes gain prominence, the Leonardo exhibit shows our highest aspirations.

 

 

 

New MOMA expansion continues museum's real estate maneuvers, as Times critic Michael Kimmelman details

The Museum of Modern Art's relentless expansion since moving to its permanent home on West 53rd Street in 1939 has transformed its Midtown Manhattan neighborhood.

In an early review of the MOMA's latest renovation, opening Oct. 21, ace New York Times architecture critic Michael Kimmelman shows how the museum turned over the years into one of New York City's insatiable real estate brokers.

The $450 million project adds 47,000 feet of exhibition space, allowing MOMA to display more of its permanent collection. It also adds a performance stage, a rooftop restaurant and a dramatic canopy. On the negative side, the MOMA's sculpture garden will be less accessible.

One of MOMA's most touted additions is a gallery for changing exhibits, visible from the street and free to visitors. Alas, MOMA had to tear down the American Museum of Folk Art to build the new space.

The MOMA expansion continues major museums' race to grow bigger and attract more visitors. The MOMA turns ever more corporate as its masterpieces speak against capitalism's ravages. Co-founded by Abby Aldrich Rockefeller, John D. Rockefeller Jr.'s wife, the museum has navigated between those poles since its beginning.

Kimmelman's review implies that the project by Diller Scofido +Refro, in collaboration with Gensler, undoes mistakes from Yoshio Taniguchi's widely criticized 2004 expansion. Taniguchi's work led to crowded hallways and escalators as the museum's visitors surpassed 3 million a year, as Kimmelman details. The new MOMA will ease traffic flow. Earlier expansions had been done by Philip Johnson and Cesar Pelli.

When the MOMA moved to West 53rd Street in 1939, the area consisted of low-rise rowhouses, Kimmelman says. The MOMA's six-story home of white marble, clad in a new kind of insulated glass called Thermolux, according to the MOMA's web site, transformed the street like the landing of a spaceship, as Kimmelman said.

Now, skyscrapers in that part of Midtown soar toward the sky, blotting out the sun. Owned by foreign oligarchs, many of the outlandish high-rises remain vacant, killing the area's small businesses.

Conceived as a palace of modern art, the MOMA with its real estate hunger has enervated the area's vitality. Monstrosities rising to an inhuman scale,  empty storefronts and a corporate uniformity have replaced interesting shops and middle-class homes.

Art lovers will flock to the MOMA, which expects an increase to 3.5 million annual visitors. The main interest for many will still be taking selfies before Van Gogh's "Starry Night," as Kimmelman notes.

 

 

 

 

Farewell, Ginger Baker

The rock supergroup Cream's universal popularity is unimaginable today.

Ginger Baker, the group's pyrotechnic drummer, died Sunday at age 80 in London. Baker, bassist Jack Bruce and guitarist Eric Clapton reached a new level of rock success with Cream, drawing huge crowds with their turbocharged music and selling millions of records. Their once innovative power rock today seems as old-fashioned as the big band era did in the 1960s. Fractured audiences and collapsing album sales now thwart widespread appeal.

Baker, who saw himself as a jazz drummer, hated Cream's ear-breaking sound as Clapton and Bruce accumulated more and more amps for stadium performances. While Baker looked down at rock music, he was acclaimed as one of rock's greatest drummers, fusing jazz and blues rhythms.

Cream's luminous career ended quickly, wrecked by animosity between Bruce, who died in 2014, and Baker, as his New York Times obituary recounted. Baker and Clapton joined Steve Winwood to form Blind Faith, which also flashed briefly.

Known for his unpleasant personality, Baker played with several more bands over the years, and reunited with Bruce and Clapton in 2003.

Several rock stars died early. Baker, who battled heroin addiction, survived the rock era's excesses. Two other aging rockers, Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney hailed Baker as a consummate musician. Clapton continues to perform.