Southern Bookman

Tony Awards fall flat

Watching college baseball, I missed much of the Tony Awards Sunday night. The few musical numbers I caught lumbered with the worst excesses of Broadway, making me glad that I'd mostly remained at the ballpark.

The lackluster and disjointed Tonys show did have the surprise of "Hadestown" winning seven more awards than "To Kill a Mockingbird."

On a night where "Network's" Bryan Cranston beat out "To Kill a Mockingbird's" Jeff Daniels for the aging white male leading man award, "Hadestown" dominated the musical field. It looked more interesting than productions based on Cher, the Temptations, Tootisie and Bettlejuice.

The legendary Elaine May's wry and gracious acceptance speech for her best leading actress award increased my desire to see her performance in Kenneth Lonergan's "The Waverly Gallery." But then I discovered the play had already closed.

I liked host James Corden's collection of jackets, but his cloying, overeager performance wore out its appeal. After mocking the Tonys' low TV ratings in a promising opening production number, he generated more groans than laughs. Corden should remain in the steppes of late night TV.

Oh well, Broadway is booming, according to The New York Times, and the "Hadestown" bonanza and best play recognition for Jez Butterworth's "The Ferryman" indicated an approval for imaginative theater over commercial, crowd-pleasing productions.

Too bad that Broadway couldn't put on a better show for its shrinking national TV audience.

 

Farewell, Dr. John

Mac Rebennack gained fame with his "Dr. John the Night Tripper" persona, drawing upon the voodoo and Mardi Gras Indian traditions of his native New Orleans.

Moving away from the most ostentatious elements of the camp-swamp character during the years, he drew more and more upon his virtuoso playing, mixing avant garde daring with American roots perspective.

With Dr. John's death at age 77, the world has lost another music master with deep connections to New Orleans jazz, rock 'n roll and rhythm and blues.

An innovator, he was also a preservationist with an encyclopedic knowledge of the city's musical history and families.

His university was the city's postwar clubs and recording studios, learning from Dave Bartholomew, Fats Domino, Professor Longhair, Harold Battiste and others. Dropping out of high school, he began playing professionally in his early teens. Breaking further from his middle-class background, he fell into a life of petty crime and drug addiction. After years of struggle, he freed himself from his heroin dependence.

Rebennack started out as a guitarist, until a finger injury from a gunshot incident made him switch to the piano. As with the late Allen Toussaint, he fashioned a distinctive keyboard style that showed traces of New Orleans piano masters James Booker, Champion Jack Dupree, Jelly Roll Morton, Fats Domino and Professor Longhair.

While younger musicians like Trombone Shorty, Harry Connick Jr., Terence Blanchard and Jon Batiste add to New Orleans' legacy, they are several generations removed from those who made pioneering records in New Orleans in the 1940s, 50s and '60s. Their sound is more refined and academically influenced.

The musicians from whom Dr. John learned played with some of the city's early 20th century pioneers. Dr. John's music built upon the raw power of the music's origins.

A longtime session musician for other artists, Dr. John in his solo act brought a new sound and performing energy to popular music. As his career deepened, he presented fresh interpretations of American standards, while staying connected to younger innovative musicians.

Dr. John was one of those protean New Orleans performers who personify the city.

 

 

Farewell, Doris Day

Were Doris Day and Marilyn Monroe really so different?

Day, who died Monday at age 97, presented a wholesome, virginal image that contrasted with Monroe's smoldering sexuality, according to The New York Times' front-page obituary.

Times film critic A.O. Scott gave a shrewder assessment of Day's movie persona in the essay, "Hip Sex Goddess Disguised as the Girl Next Door." An accompanying photo shows Day in "Pillow Talk," sitting on the side of a bed wearing a slip and showing off her million-dollar legs. As Scott pointed out, Day in another movie with Rock Hudson sang a swinging number with an all-black group.

Monroe played the girl next door disguised as the hip sex goddess. Day and Monroe could have been sisters, Monroe wilder, Day the studious one who might binge on drinks during a crazy date.

Like Day, Monroe rose from meager beginnings. Both showed their greatest acting in conforming to manufactured personal lives. Both of their images were defined by made-up alliterative names.

The photo with the Times obituary shows Day with Hudson, whose gay sexuality the studios hid. Day wears elbow-length white gloves and a seductive white dress, as sultry and unapproachable as Monroe.

We could never imagine the Kennedy brothers having affairs with Day, but we could imagine Day dazzling JFK with a rendition of "Happy Birthday."

Monroe died young, a victim of drugs, her last movie made with Clark Gable, who also played the older man in a film with Day. Day lived for years in retirement, like Donna Reed rendered sexless and matronly by TV.

But before Hollywood created Day's virginal image, she was a dazzling sex star, bringing the movies a new type of independent woman, not as ethereal and purely sensual as the 1930s'  Jean Harlow. Day was the model for the blond Hollywood stars who followed, who displayed different aspects of her persona.

The 1950s and 1960s blondes appear on a spectrum of glamour, sexual promise, all-American fun and unattainability. Grace Kelly. Kim Novak. Jayne Mansfield, Doris Day.

The kaleidoscope shifts to Faye Dunaway and Jane Fonda. But they were not that far removed from Day. Fonda's Barbarella and Dunaway's Bonnie Barrow kept a touch of innocence.

The movie "Young at Heart" with Frank Sinatra, Gig Young, Ethel Barrymore and Dorothy Malone revealed Day's greatness as an actress. I never cared much for her work with Hudson, but Day gave an Oscar-worthy performance as the life-affirming young woman perplexed and attracted by the cynical loser played by Sinatra.

Day was also one of the last links to the great World War II generation of singers who could unite the nation with a song like "Sentimental Journey," recorded with Les Brown and His Band of Renown. As a 1940s pop star, Day was the female incarnation of Sinatra.

Her postwar recordings of classics such as "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered" and "It's Been a Long, Long Time" display flawless diction and phrasing. While the productions are over-orchestrated with lush strings and background singers, she raises them to the highest artistic level. Her vocal inflections explore the lyrics' full emotional register.

Day's "Que Sera Sera" was one of the last 1940s-'50s style of pop songs that became a hit in the heady days of rock and teen angst. Again, she overcomes the sickly sweet arrangement, her expressive singing bringing out the timeless truth in the simple lyrics.

The countercultural era that pushed Day into retirement produced Peggy Lipton, who died just before Day. Lipton presented a different kind of TV blonde on "Mod Squad," young and hip, and eager to hook up, or so we imagined.

But she too, like all of the Hollywood blondes, had to retain an element of the girl next door.

 

New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival shows city's resilience

I once more knew what it means to miss New Orleans when I read Jay Pareles' New York Times article Thursday about the 50th Jazz and Heritage Festival, which begins this weekend in the Crescent City.

While New Orleans is known for its dysfunctional local government, high murder rate and economic distress, the Jazz and Heritage Festival is an overwhelming success.

As Pareles reports, the festival each year raises $3 million for the nonprofit foundation that puts on the event, which covers two weekends. The foundation uses the money for a range of educational programs and support for local musicians.

Perhaps the Jazzfest owes its popularity to being a daytime event. Going against New Orleans' reputation as a city that never sleeps, the Jazzfest closes each day at 7 p.m., as Pareles reported. That puts the focus on the music, rather than high-tech light shows and such.

Purists have criticized the festival for booking big names like this year's Katy Perry, but out of 688 performers, 600 are New Orleans and south Louisiana acts with mainly local followings, according to Pareles.

This year, a heralded appearance by the Rolling Stones stirred excitement, but the venerable group had to drop out because of Mick Jagger's heart surgery. Then replacement Fleetwood Mac canceled because of some mysterious illness suffered by Stevie Nicks. Now, Widespread Panic will perform.

The event began in 1970 at Beauregard Square, later known as Congo Square, a slave market where jazz originated with the slaves' chanting and dances. Growing success after a few struggling years led to the event moving to the New Orleans Fairgrounds. Jesus, I also remember betting on horse races there as a young man. I attended several of the early festivals at the fairgrounds, but didn't go to another until years later, when the event resumed after Hurricane Katrina.

Along with the music, the festival offers a great selection of Cajun, Creole and other varieties of New Orleans food. Sometimes I think of going just to get another helping of jambalaya.

You can have the Stones, Fleetwood Mac and Widespread Panic. I'm homesick to see New Orleans performers Irma Thomas, the Meters, the Neville Brothers and so on. I'd especially love to see master pianist Ellis Marsalis perform April 28 with his sons Wynnton, Branford, Delfeayo and Jason. Now in his 80s, Ellis played a big part in the festival's early success.

Every year when the Jazzfest rolls around, I think of my late friend Loftin, who had a complete collection of Jazz Festival posters. Hard to imagine that this will be the fifth Jazzfest he'll miss.

This year's poster shows the family of performers who have appeared at Jazz Fest, including those no longer with us like Professor Longhair and Fats Domino.

Many believe New Orleans won't survive. Old and new generations of Jazzfest musicians say otherwise.

"Game of Thrones" scene pays homage to TV classic "Davy Crockett"

"Game of Thrones" channeled baby boomer TV royalty Sunday night: Davy Crockett, "The King of the Wild Frontier."

In a poignant scene from the wildly popular Disney show of my childhood, Davy and his compatriots gather at night in the Alamo, awaiting the attack of Gen. Santa Ana's army the next day.

As campfires flicker in the darkness, Fess Parker as Crockett sings "Farewell to the Mountains" at the request of his old friend George, portrayed by Buddy Ebsen. The men sitting within the old fort's walls listen, contemplating their fate.

I flashed back to that magical Disney moment when Podrick sings "Jenny's Song" to Jaime, Tyrion, Brienne, Tormund and Davos as they sit around the fireplace at Winterfell on the night before their climatic battle against the White Walkers on "Game of Thrones." The GOT and Disney scenes share themes of home, honor, courage and death.

Crockett and the others at the Alamo didn't survive Santa Ana's army, and the odds don't look good for those at Winterfell against the Night King and his zombie army. But GOT fans expect Daenery's forces to somehow prevail. Unlike Davy, they have a couple of dragons.

On the road with satellite radio: Jimmy Buffett, Elvis, the Beatles and the Grateful Dead

I sampled Sirius/XM satellite radio's dedicated channels on a recent long road trip.

Although I've liked Jimmy Buffett ever since he burst onto the scene nearly 50 years ago, I never considered him a major artist. But listening to his music on the Margaritaville satellite channel raised my opinion.

He's one of those artists who've created his own genre, with strands of jazz, pop, country, reggae, the blues, folk and soul. Like the Grateful Dead, he's built a network of fans who follow him from concert to concert and espouse his hazy, live and let live philosophy. The more I listened, the more I understood that his interpretation of human existence is more substantial than "there's booze in the blender, etc." 

A disciplined, dedicated artist, he's also an astute businessman who's involved in a number of ventures under the Margaritaville brand. He has also been involved in many humanitarian endeavors. Like Bruce Springsteen and Carole King, his music has been honored with a Broadway show.

While Buffett's songs express a longing for a slacker's paradise, a concern for the earth and a tolerance for others lie at the foundation of his music. His songs give a surface impression of hedonistic apathy, yet I also discerned community awareness.

A distinctive sound, well-crafted lyrics, and an excellent band mark him as a major American artist. Perhaps he's not as generation-changing as Dylan or Springsteen, but Buffett deserves recognition as a significant songwriter and singer.

Alas, while I expected to like the Beatles, Elvis and Grateful Dead channels, I didn't find them as captivating as Margaritaville. Call me a parrothead, but listening to familiar Beatles and Elvis numbers one after the other made for diminished returns.

Taken out of the context of their albums, some of the Beatles' famous artistic songs lost their spark. Elvis' early songs soared with their original primitive power, but his later recordings were exposed as contrived crowd-pleasers.

The Grateful Dead's long jams made the long miles through Lower Alabama even more tedious. I loved  the more mainstream albums"American Beauty" and "Workingman's Dead" but the band's acid-driven 20-minute cult numbers always struck me as monotonous and self-indulgent.

As Jimmy would say, changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes.

Affirmations of music, from Anne-Sophie Mutter to Hal Blaine and Lester Young

The New York Times and Wall Street Journal presented affirmations of music Thursday morning amid the newspapers' reports of human disasters, political stupidity and corporate malfeasance.

Two pieces hallmarked innovative musicians' contributions: a WSJ tribute to sax virtuoso Lester Young , and The Times' look at 12 hit songs defined by the beat of ace session drummer Hal Blaine.

Jazz historian John Edward Haase in the WSJ article looks at Young's ground-breaking career. Friday will be the 60th anniversary of Young's death at age 49. He was one of the many black geniuses who died too young from American racial oppression and inadequate appreciation of his art.

Billie Holiday, who made a series of essential jazz recordings with Young, died a few months later, ravaged from drugs and state harassment. She called Young "Pres," and he bestowed upon her the name, "Lady Day." They are two musical geniuses who deserved much better from their native land.

As Haase notes, Young was one of the many black jazz and blues pioneers who were born in Mississippi, transforming the state's poverty and repression into transcendent music.

He first made his mark with Count Basie's band in Kansas City, and after moving to New York increased his fame playing in clubs and recording with Holiday and others. Hasse says Young's quieter, more refined style contrasted with  that of the more raucous Coleman Hawkins, and that his artistry anticipated the emergence of Charlie Parker.

The Times' Christopher R. Weingarten looks at Blaine's drum work on 12 songs recorded by artists ranging from Phil Spector's Crystals and Ronettes to Simon & Garfunkel, Sam Cooke, Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, the Monkees, Johnny Rivers, Nancy Sinatra,  the Byrds, the Beach Boys and the Fifth Dimension. Blaine, who died this week at age 90, was the mainstay of a group of session artists who played on nearly every recording made in Los Angeles from the 1960s through the early '80s.

Called by Blaine "The Wrecking Crew," the group played on pop recordings by Frank Sinatra, rock and soul top 40 hits, and TV series and commercial themes. They had the versatility and ability to switch from genre to genre during marathon recording sessions.

Blaine is especially remembered for his drum sequence that kicks off the Ronettes' "Be My Baby." But that assertive rat-a-tat-tat annunciation was not common; he most often was a subtle driving force underlying the songs like a steady tide. He is the latest among a group of landmark session musicians who died recently, receiving posthumous recognition for their musical contributions unheralded during their careers.

The saddest part of Blaine's New York Times obituary was the statement that his recording career waned in the 1980s when producers began using drum machines on recordings. A drum machine could never match Blaine's human touch.

For further affirmation of human creativity, the Times had two enthralling reviews of performances at New York City's Carnegie Hall. As mammoth condos and office buildings rise just blocks away, the venerated music hall asserts the best of New York as an arts center.

The great Times classical music critic Anthony Tommasini blesses a performance by the young pianist Beatrice Rana, who sailed through the daunting challenge of Chopin's 24 Etudes, mesmerizing her audience. For years, Tommasini has been among the Times writers whose byline I look for each day. He adds to my limited classical music knowledge, and makes me feel that I was with him at the performance, After his review, I will look forward to exploring Rana's recordings.

The well-known violinist Anne-Sophie Mutter also enthralled a Carnegie Hall audience with a recital based on Mozart, according to Times critic Corinna de Fonseca-Wohlheim. Mutter performed along with her longtime piano accompanist, Lambert Orkis. After their performance, Mutter returned for an encore featuring works by her former husband, Andre Previn, who died recently after a long and varied career that brought joy to millions.

Lester Young. Billie Holiday. Hal Blaine. Beatrice Rana. Anne-Sophie Mutter. Andre Previn. The inexhaustible range of music creativity gives hope for humanity, as the news pages increase our despair.

Bill Charlap Trio finds swinging heart of Leonard Bernstein classics

The Bill Charlap Trio's concert at Atlanta's McElreath Hall Thursday night displayed some of the classical music gravity that critics see as deadening to jazz.

The audience at the Atlanta Jewish Music Festival's event showed the respectful deference of symphony goers. Charlap, bass player Sean Smith and drummer Kenny Washington performed selections from the trio's album of Leonard Bernstein songs. While edging toward jazz, Bernstein remained rooted in classical traditions and musical theater.

The acoustically true concert hall next to the Atlanta History Center has a symphonic ambience that contrasts with the dark intimacy of a club like New York City's Village Vanguard, a musical home for Charlap.

Charlap and his mates found the swinging heart of upbeat Bernstein numbers like "America" from "West Side Story" and the blues core of "Big Stuff" from "Fancy Free," recorded by Billie Holiday, as Charlap noted in one of his gregarious monologues. Wistful ballads like "Somewhere" and "Some Other Time," an encore, raised the emotional level beyond exploiting the easy nostalgia of those who were young when "Westside Story" and "On the Town" arrived.

The trio's interpretations took the familiar songs down new paths, making them fresh and vital creations, not museum pieces. A few of the swinging numbers moved members of the audience to spontaneous clapping.

Displaying his virtuoso power and melodic precision, Charlap dazzled the audience. Washington excelled with a number of pulsing drum solos, and an unerring rhythm. Smith also performed several solos, showing the versatility of the bass. My only regret was that they didn't do "New York, New York," my favorite Comden-Green toe-tapper.

The appreciative audience included the 92-year-old saxophone legend Jimmy Heath, introduced by Charlap to strong applause, and H. Johnson, WABE's jazz DJ.

In the Charlap Trio's expressive take on Bernstein, classical mastery and jazz's primal force struck fire.

 

Tragedy showdows Mardi Gras joy in New Orleans

New Orleans always breaks our hearts.

As Mardi Gras rolled toward its grand finale, a drunk driver plowed into bicyclists heading toward what they thought would be happy evenings after the end of the Endymion parade Saturday night.

Two people were killed and seven injured as the driver struck groups of bike riders on Esplanade Avenue, one of the city's signature streets, according to the Times-Picayune's NOLA web site.

The tragedy showed the joy and despair of New Orleans. Both of those killed were Penn grads who'd come to New Orleans in the rebuilding after Katrina and come to love the city.

Sharee Walls, 27, had embarked upon a successful philanthropic career in New Orleans, showing the civic consciousness not often associated with the city. Away from her nonprofit work, she served on the board of the Red Beans Crewe, displaying the love for the city's customs that often glows in transplants.

David Hymes, 31, was a Seattle lawyer, a Tulane law school alum who had recently joined the great professional migration from New Orleans. While seeking career fulfillment elsewhere, he was still captivated by New Orleans' sense of fun.

The man charged with vehicular homicide in their deaths told police he has a drinking problem, according to the Times Picayune. That's the flip side of New Orleans' joie de vivre. The city has a drinking problem, a violence problem, a poverty problem.

Those of us who left Louisiana still celebrate Mardi Gras. We play our Professor Longhair classics, buy gumbo at one of the restaurants catering to the Louisiana diaspora, bring home a king cake.

As "My Darling New Orleans" plays, our joy is tinged with sadness.

 

 

 

 

"Green Book" controversy shows persistence of racial conflict

The Oscars show touched off  an outpouring of protest over "Green Book" receiving the Best Picture award Sunday night.

Critics found the movie about an improbable black-white friendship a simplistic and manipulative gloss on racial relations in America.

I rushed to see "Green Book" Sunday afternoon, and was surprised to find the film entertaining and uplifting. Based on a true story, the movie tells about a rough-edged Italian brawler from the Bronx chauffering a refined black pianist on a concert tour through the deep South during the Civil Rights era.

The film has glaring weaknesses. The intensely panned scene in which the professional bouncer known as Tony Lip teaches the cultured black musician Don Shirley to eat fried chicken - Kentucky fried at that - was amusing, but wallowed in painful racial stereotypes.

"Green Book" takes place in 1962, yet the Civil Rights campaign then roiling the South is all but ignored. Martin Luther King Jr. is never mentioned. In one scene, John F. Kennedy and his brother, Bobby, reeeive credit for black gains. In contrast, the Kennedy administration was slow in responding to the civil rights movement. 

While Shirley's tour is seen as a heroic effort to overcome the South's virulent racism with the healing power of music and culture, the broader civil rights movement might as well not exist.

Viggo Mortensen as Tony and Mahershala Ali as Dr. Shirley transcend the movie's problems with strong performances. While critics blast Tony as a "white savior" and see the movie as recycling the "Driving Miss Daisy" formula, Mortensen and Ali fully explore the contours of friendship and self-fulfillment.

The movie also examines the value of art, the pleasures of food and family, the ravages of alcoholism, the worth of classical and popular music and the power of violence and non-violence.

Directed by Peter Farrelly, "Green Book" shows the strengths and weaknesses of the crude humor associated with Farrelly comedies like "There's Something About Mary." 

The racial epithets and sexist jokes give a realistic picture of 1960s America. The Italian anti-defamation league probably has objected to the stereotyped view of New York Italian culture, while blacks and Southern whites display the simplistic traits often associated with them.

The movie accurately shows how the South was crippled by its ingrained racism and allegiance to segregation. The genteel racism of the culturally aware white middle class allowed the extreme violence of white supremacy.

"Green Book" seeks to illustrate how friendship and mutual respect can overcome racism. The outrage over the film's Oscar registers the deep divisions that persist nearly 60 years after Don Shirley offered the South his gift of music.