Friday, July 4, 2014

In the middle of the pouring rain.


Walking in Memphis was written by Marc Cohn and was released in 1991.  Cohn wrote the song after a visit to Memphis, TN.  It is semi-autobiographical and takes the listener on a trip through history and nostalgia.

He first mentions putting on his blue suede shoes, a tribute to Carl Perkins who recorded the song Blue Suede Shoes for Sam Phillips at Sun Studios.  Sun Studios is also located at 706 Union Avenue, as mentioned in the lyrics, and is where Elvis, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and countless Delta bluesmen recorded their music in the hopes of hitting it big.  He touches "down in the land of the Delta blues": Memphis is the top corner of the Mississippi Delta region; "in the middle of the pouring rain": the piano melody that opens the song is reminiscent of falling rain.

W. C. Handy is also given a mention, and justly so.  While Handy wasn't a Delta bluesman (he was actually a formally trained musician and bandleader), he was one of the first to recognize the brilliance of blues music.  It was Handy who introduced the blues to the rest of the world (before the recording studios took the chance).

Cohn sees the ghost of Elvis on Union Avenue, then follows "him up to the gates of Graceland", Elvis's Memphis mansion.  Inside a "pretty little thing" waits for the King in his Jungle room (Elvis' homage to his favorite vacation spot, Hawaii).

While he was in Memphis, Cohn took a short drive out of town to visit The Hollywood Cafe, which is a real place off of Highway 61.  Murial, who "plays piano every night at the Hollywood" struck up a friendship with Cohn and even attended his wedding in New York.  She was immortalized by being written into the song.

"Catfish on the table and gospel in the air" reminds us that we are truly in the South.  "Reverend Green be glad to see you" tributes Al Green, who is a celebrated soul singer in his own right, and later became an ordained pastor for the Full Gospel Tabernacle in Memphis.

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Do you hear the people sing? Again?


I recently played in the pit orchestra of a production of Les Miserables, (or Les Mis to the initiated).  It is a musical that adapts Victor Hugo's epic depressing story of poverty, desperation, revolution, and ultimately, reconciliation and hope.  My part in this production is to cover the Reed 3 book, which asks for Eb clarinet, Bb clarinet, bass clarinet, and tenor recorder.  See family portrait, above.

The musical was initially not well received when it opened on Broadway in October of 1985.  Now, however, it is one of the most beloved musicals in the Broadway (and off-Broadway) canon.  Listening to the musical repeatedly, as is the case when playing in pits, one starts to observe.  For example, the "On My Own" theme is used throughout, and because the musical is sung-through (using recitative, much like an opera), several sing-speech motifs come through.  The first motif of this style is given when the farmer dismisses Jean Valjean from his work. "You'll have to go. I'll pay you off for the day. Collect your bits and pieces there and be on your way."  The same motif returns when Valjean is again asked to leave the doorstep of an inn he wishes to stay in.  "Our rooms are full."  Later, we hear the same motif from Madame Thenardier is yelling at young Cosette to draw some water from the well.  Similarly, the "Empty Chairs and Empty Tables" melody is first heard from the Bishop at the beginning of the musical when he is trying to help and console Valjean.

This style of composition is called leitmotif, which means to repeatedly use a short phrase or musical idea throughout an entire work.  Leitmotiv comes from the German that means "guiding motif", and one of the first composers to really make great use of it was Richard Wagner in his operas (though he did not invent leitmotifs).  Often, leitmotifs are used to signal the arrival of a character, as heard in Hector Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique.  The Fantastique is a portrayal of a series of dreams of a lovesick artist.  The leitmotif that drifts around the work is a representation of an unattainable woman the artist loves.  In the March to the Scaffold movement, our tortured artist drugs himself with opium and has horrible visions, which include him being marched off to death for murdering his beloved mystery woman.  Just before the guillotine falls, the artist thinks of his beloved, the theme soars (this time from a clarinet)...and is cut short at the drop of the blade.  We hear his head bouncing down the steps, and the attendant crowd cheers. 

Times were different then.