a.c. douglas

Ignorance is bliss

Submitted by Campbell Vertesi on Tue, 2007-03-06 12:52.

A.C. Douglas recently posted about a critic, who complains that when you know too much about an art form, you lose the ability to enjoy it "in a straightforward, uncomplicated way."  This critic explains that connoisseurs attend a performance, and spend their intermissions complaining about how it is not the best they've seen in their life.  This gets in the way of the "pure" rapturous enjoyment that comes from the first viewing of a work.

To the critic:

You are right: ignorance is bliss.  But if you wish for ignorance, you deserve it.

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The Met Broadcast's new format

Submitted by Campbell Vertesi on Tue, 2007-02-13 12:24.

In an open letter to Peter Gelb, fellow blogger A.C. Douglas lambasts the new format of the Met Broadcast "halftime shows".  

Generally speaking, that format comes across as a lame aping — even parody — of the multi-announcer live coverage of a network TV sporting event, complete with the requisite inane, intrusive chatter, and vapid, prole-pandering, locker-room star "interviews."

Before I go any further, I should give a disclaimer: I was never a regular listener to the Met broadcasts before they released their archives - which is to say, before Margaret Juntwait.  Frankly, the productions were too often sub-par for my ears, spoiled as I have been by recordings of the great singers of the 20th Century.  The point is, I don't have any basis for comparison to Ms. Juntwait.

That being said, I kind of like Margaret's little halftime numbers.  The play-by-play of the audience milling around is a bit jarring, but the interviews and commentary are a great idea needing better implementation.  They are certainly not perfect: I'd like them much more if the interviews were pitched above the intellectual level of a retarded baboon. But I like it that the broadcasts now try put some depth behind the performance - talking to the stars and finding out that they're real people, even PERSONABLE people, with opinions about their art.

While I do believe that great art is elitist in nature, I don't think elitism should be an inpenetrable fortress.  Domingo is a great artist to be sure, but does that mean he must be so elevated above the masses as to have no personality?  I say no.  I say that the height of his accomplishment is accented by the fact that he is a human being, with interests and thought and personality like anyone else.  

Let me be absolutely clear here, because there is a fine distinction to be made: I don't care about Domingo's hobbies, his favorite movies, or his best recipe for flan.  I do want to know what he thinks about the music, and his character.  What is his approach to a character like Otello, who is so different from the literary source that is his inspiration?  How has conducting Boheme changed the way he approaches it as a singer?  You see, I am not a fan of denigrating such a great artist with irrelevancies; but I love the opportunity to explore his artistry in direct interview.

These singers are interesting, personable human beings with opinions and thoughts about their art.  I love it when Margaret Juntwait gives them a chance to express some of that.  Without it, a great singer is only as real as a bust of Dickens is real.  Why be satisfied with what we can learn indirectly through their work, when we have the real article here to talk with?

Imagine if you will, the opportunity to interview a great artist in another field.  What questions would you ask Picasso, or Coleridge?  These are the kind of questions that I want to see asked of singers on the great stages of today.

Unfortunately, most of the halftime shows don't satisfy in this regard.  i heard an interview with Phillip Glass - Phillip Glass! - awhile ago, with such scintillating questions as "how many times have you been to the Met this season?" and "do you prefer to conduct your own works, or watch from the audience?"   She may as well have asked about his favorite toothpaste.  Here you have an opportunity to interview one of the major composers of the century, and you ask if he is a season ticketholder.  During this interview, I tried yelling better questions at the radio, but Margaret wouldn't listen.

But the interviews don't have to be like that.  Indeed, I listened a few weeks ago to an interview with the Don Magnifico of the evening, as he - in slightly broken English - explained the duality inherent in his character.  He described the challenges of playing a comic villain, and the things in this role that were of particular difficulty to him.  This was a marvellous interview, which gave me all sorts of new insight into the performance and the performer.

If only all of the interviews could be so fascinating, I would be a complete supporter of the Met's intermission entertainment.  As it is, I can only disagree with Mr. Douglas' appraisal by a matter of degree.  I agree that most of the time, these interviews are an insult to the listener and to the interviewee.  Make the interviews interesting and intellectually/personally engaging however, and you will have a winner in my book.

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One last post on Hierarchical Sobriety

Submitted by Campbell Vertesi on Mon, 2006-12-04 12:59.

As much as I enjoy this discussion, I'm not a fan of using up topspace on the blog for it... nor necessarily for broadcasting every step of it by RSS. This post will serve as a response and as a placeholder for future discussion via comments.

Mr. Douglas insists that I misunderstand his original article, and that my response accordingly misses the point. I'm afraid I'm only a singer, and I still don't see the misunderstanding!

I do understand that Mr. Douglas is speaking about the artifacts of culture rather than the culture itself, but apart from the insertion of the word "artifact" repeatedly in my response, I don't believe that this alters the argument in any fundamental way.

As a clue, Mr. Douglas presents a quote - one in fact that I had considered using, because it was some of the most straightforward writing in the piece - to demonstrate that 'intent' has nothing to do with his argument. Key sentences from the quote:

"the singular principal hallmark of all artifacts of the realm of high culture is their perceived aspiration to transcendence...

"And that singular hallmark is what's singularly lacking in all the artifacts of the realm of popular culture, their singular principal hallmark being a perceived aspiration to the widely accessible here-and-now entertaining."

(emphasis mine)

It seems that our misunderstanding centers around the use of the words "aspiration" and "intent". Indeed, Mr. Douglas is careful to point out:

...in themselves (as distinct from the conscious intentions of their creators), their hallmark characteristic is their perceived quality of aspiring to transcendence.

(emphasis mine)

So, the work itself ASPIRES to transcendance, no matter what the creator intended? I'm afraid this concept eludes me. A work of art is inanimate in every sense but the metaphoric. It's only aspiration or intention is that of the artist, or that of the viewer imposed thereupon. But Mr. Douglas cannot be saying that the definition between high and popular cultural artifacts is that he (Douglas) wishes upon them an aspiration to transcend. This wold be nonsensical.

Clearly there is something in the subtleties of the words "aspiration" and "intention" that I'm not getting. I tried Merriam-Webster to see if it was something obvious, but the definitions are quite similar:

Intend: "to have in mind as a purpose or goal"
Aspire: "to seek to attain or accomplish a particular goal"

What am I missing here? Mr. Douglas has done plenty to try and help me better understand his meaning, but I'm dense enough not to get it. Anyone else care to help?

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