A collection of essays, musings and reviews covering various topics I have written about in my undergrad and postgrad studies. Areas of interest include: literature, film and television, culture, philosophy, history, feminism, science fiction, mythology, witchcraft historiography and musicology.
I am presently in the throes of writing an essay on jazz. In my research I've come across particular pieces which are historical markers for the form, and thought I'd share them and have a chat about jazz.
The first piece is 'Dippermouth Blues' by King Oliver & His Creole Band, which was originally recorded in 1923. According to Daniel Kingman, author of American Music: A Panorama (2nd edition), this piece is representative of the traditional, or New Orleans style. It is also a good example of the fundamental variation of jazz technique. You can clearly hear the clarinet, and later the cornet, emerge as soloists. Of note is Louis Armstrong, and here he is playing the cornet.
A vital ingredient of jazz method is improvisation, which is not a matter of 'anything goes', but a fine balance between discipline and freedom. It is this balance, which Kingman says in the 'real essence of jazz performance.'
This notion of improvisation can be illustrated in contrasting two examples. Firstly, we have "Embraceable You" by George Gershwin (1928), and secondly, Charlie Parker's version (1947). Listen for Parker's inventive improvisations on the tune, with a rhythm section of just piano, bass and drums.
As well as reliant on improvisation, jazz is also notable for soloists, as was seen above. Perhaps the most gifted soloist was Louis Armstrong, who was one of the performers who helped to define the 'hot' style of playing in the 1920s, and was an early proponent of 'swing'. Kingman notes that Armstrong's solos, 'with their melodic inventiveness, rhythmic drive, and variety of tonal colour, especially during the period from the 1920s through the late 1930s, were models that had a great influence on the course of jazz as it moved out of the traditional period.'
The example I have chosen features Louis Armstrong and His Orchestra. If I've done my research right, then this is from 1928. The name of the song is also interesting, with 'Muggles' being slang for marijuana. So it would seem that Louis also liked a toot. Pun very much intended.
Whilst any discussion involving the provenance of Jazz invariably speaks of New Orleans, Chicago and New York are also important when looking at its move into urban centres across America. Both cities benefited from the emigration of New Orleans 'jazzmen', and musicians both black and white, were now playing jazz.
With the shift came new players and new ideas, which changed the way jazz was played. In particular, the 'traditional free-wheeling, relaxed, improvised style was lost.' This can be seen in the so-called Chicago style. Unfortunately, due to the attitude and conditions of the times, white musicians, mostly trained by blacks, were reaping the rewards and enjoying a disproportionate share of the economic gains.
According to Kingman, the Chicago style is demonstrative of a kind of adolescence between the carefree youth of the traditional, and the maturity of the soon-to-come, big band style, with its sophisticated craftsmanship. This can be heard in the next two examples "Royal Garden Blues" and "Jazz Me Blues" with Bix Beiderbecke and the Wolverines (1927).
The shift to New York brought with it three developments. The first was a solo piano style, which grew out of ragtime. Alternatively named 'Rent-party', 'Parlor-social', 'Harlem', or 'stride', these describe, 'in terms of economics, geography, or left-hand agility, a solo piano idiom'. This is best illustrated in the work of its recognised founder, James P. Johnson. The following example, "Carolina Shout" (1921), demonstrates his 'rollicking piano style'.
It's interesting to note that the Harlem rent party was a phenomenon born out of Prohibition and made necessary by the Depression. The aim of the party was to raise the rent, and anyone who could donate a quarter admission, was admitted.
Here's another example from Johnson, "You've Got to be Modernistic" from 1929.
Fats Waller was another stride player, and along with Johnson, became influential in the mainstream of jazz. Before we get to the example, it's interesting to note that Waller was abducted by Capone's gangsters in the 1920s to sing him 'Happy Birthday'. Hustled to the party which was in full swing, Waller was forced to the piano with a gun to his back! This piece is titled "Handful of Keys" (1929).
Once known as the ‘dream factory’, Hollywood has been in the business of creating and selling dreams for almost a century. Throughout this time, Hollywood has been influential in the way films are made and the conventions that have come to dominate filmmaking throughout the rest of the world. In particular, formal elements such as the use of camera, editing, lighting, sound, mise-en-scène and narrative technique, have become determining factors in the way meaning is produced in films. This essay will present a discussion on film form and narrative, which will be supported by a formal analysis of selected scenes from the film Lost Highway (Lynch, 1997).
Classic Hollywood cinema is a tradition of filmmaking that dominated Hollywood production from 1917 through to around 1960, and remains a pervasive style in western mainstream cinema to the present day (Bordwell et al 1985:9; Hayward 2000:64). The most important criterion in the classical system is narrative causality, which works within subordinate systems of time and space (Bordwell et al 1985:12). Narrative describes the way in which story events are structured, of which the classical system is dependent on a pattern of order/disorder/order-restored. In unifying causality, motivation is necessary to explain justification for certain elements within the film’s diegesis; that is, inside the story world; and by the same token, nondiegetic refers to the space outside the story world (Bordwell and Thompson 2008:66; Lehman & Luhr 2003:27; Hayward 2006:101).
It is useful here to introduce the concept of mise-en-scène, which essentially means, ‘putting into the scene’ (Bordwell & Thompson 2008:112). The term is used to signify the control that a director has in staging a scene for the framing of shots, and includes such elements as setting, costume, lighting, and overall movement within the frame (Hayward 2000:231). Mise-en-scène is important for the consideration of space, in that it serves to explain compositional motivation through the choices that the director makes, and functions to establish a cause of impending actions so that the story can proceed (Hayward 2000:242). To avoid the film drawing attention to itself, the Hollywood filmmaker relies on continuity editing, ‘a system of editing which uses cuts and other transitions to establish verisimilitude and to tell stories efficiently’ - with each shot having a causal relationship to the next shot - and the strategies of mise-en-scène, to ensure narrative continuity (Corrigan & White 2004:125-126).
Whilst the discussion so far has mostly concerned the visual aspects of film form, it is important to also consider the use of sound, which from a film studies perspective has been marginalised by the hegemony of the image (Chion 1994: xxvi). Sounds can be situated at different narrative levels: the diegetic, for example, synched dialogue; and the nondiegetic, for example, background music, sound effects, etc (Chion 1994:67). The main function of sound is to unify and connect the flow of images, which it achieves with sound overlaps, the creation of realism with diegetic sounds, and invoking atmosphere through the use of nondiegetic music (Chion 1994:47). In these ways, sound participates to add-value to an image; that is, it ‘enriches a given image so as to create [a] definite impression’ (Chion 1994:5).
Having looked at the formal conventions of Hollywood cinema, and the way it works to present a unified image and narrative, attention can now be turned to looking at specific examples from Lost Highway (Lynch, 1997). According to the press kit, the film unfolds with the ‘logic of a dream, which can be interpreted but never explained', and it is this preoccupation with cinema as dream which best explains Lynch’s aesthetic (Herzogenrath 1999:4; Szebin & Biodrowski 1997:37). This notion of a dream logic is best exemplified by a number of events that take place which defy normality. For example, Fred (Bill Pullman) turns into Pete (Balthazar Getty); dark-haired Renee (Patricia Arquette) who was murdered by Pete, reappears as Alice, the blonde femme-fatale (also played by Arquette); and then there is the Mystery Man (Robert Blake), a character who can be in more than one place at once.
Structurally, the narrative is constructed around the shape of a mobius strip, a surface with one side and one boundary. This is demonstrated in the way in which the film ends, virtually where it began, subverting the circular narrative structure of conventional filmmaking (Press Kit). Also, the two stories of Fred and Pete are the inverse of each other and according to Lynch ‘[t]hey’re living the same relationship…but living it in two different ways. They’re victims in different ways, in both worlds.’ However, it’s not until the scene in the desert that the two worlds are connected; Pete disappears, and Fred resurfaces again, bringing us full circle, or perhaps, repositioning us along the mobius strip (Herzogenrath 1999:3).
The idea of two worlds is best exemplified by looking at how mise-en-scène is used in the film to delineate the separate alternative realities (Vass 2005:20; McGowan 2000:52). The first part of the film takes place in Pete’s world, which is infused with mystery and a sense of emptiness, or unfulfilled desire. According to McGowan (2000:54) this can be seen in the use of minimalist décor and subdued lighting in Fred and Renee’s house, which is emphasised by the depth of field in the shots, further working to demonstrate a sense of depthlessness in their world. The colour scheme is also drab with blacks, greys and dark orange. The mise-en-scène in Pete’s world, however, appeals to more realistic conventions with bright lighting, more realistic furniture and décor, and a deeper depth of field (McGowan 2000:54).
The aural space in the early scenes between Pete and Renee is also interesting in that essentially it is empty, with the soundtrack having long periods of silence with no background noise. This use of silence exemplifies Bordwell & Thompson’s (1985:184) point that in film ‘silence takes on a new expressive function.’ And in the example noted here, silence works deliberately to communicate the distance in the relationship. This can also be seen in the sparse dialogue and resonance of delivery, which further emphasises the tentativeness of their relationship (Herzogenrath 1999:22).
In shifting the story back to the beginning, Lynch signifies this move through repeating the song with which the film began, and indeed set the tone for what was to follow – David Bowie’s “I’m Deranged” – which is underscored by the same shot of the highway at night which began the film, and continues on into the credits (Mazullo 2005:500). Another example of Lynch using a song to signal a shift in narrative is the use of Lou Reed’s version of The Drifter’s “Magic Moment”, which is played at the first time (the magic moment?) in which it is realised that both characters from ‘the first half of the film, Fred and Renee, are present, in different bodies, in the second half’s alternate reality, as Pete and Alice’ (Mazullo 2005:502-3).
As can be seen, the use of soundtrack for Lynch involves a sophistication of choice, which is affirmed by his comment that ‘[h]alf of [a] film is picture…the other half is sound. They’ve got to work together’ (Press Kit). Herzogenrath (1999:9) suggests that, for Lynch’s work, the soundtrack is ‘a most important factor to enhance the mood of a scene’, or as mentioned above – ‘add-value’. The use of background sounds, and in particular Lynch’s use of ‘drones’ clearly demonstrates this point. For example, when Renee first finds the videotape a low bass sound rumbles, which can be seen to signify the threat of the outside (through the videotape) entering the inside. In the cinema this would have produced an unsettling affect with the low frequency being felt physically by the audience (Herzogrenath 1999:10).
The above discussion has provided an outline of the formal conventions of filmmaking which have been developed over the last century and still continue to influence the way films are created today. Examples were provided from Lost Highway (Lynch, 1997), which not only demonstrated the filmic context of the concepts under discussion, but also illustrated how film form can be subverted to produce a text that is outside the dominant style, and outside the normative assumption that films must finally, in their denouement, bring the experience to a satisfying and explanatory resolution.
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Bordwell, D., Staiger, J. and Thompson, K. (1985) The Classical Hollywood Cinema: Film Style & Mode of Production to 1960. London and New York: Routledge.
Bordwell, D. and Thompson, J. (2008) Film Art: An Introduction (8th edition). New York: McGraw Hill.
Chion, M. (1994) Audio-Vision: Sound on Screen. New York: Columbia University Press.
Corrigan, T. and White, P. (2004) The Film Experience: An Introduction. Boston: Bedford/St Martin’s.
Hayward, S. (2000) Cinema Studies: The Key Concepts (2nd edition). London and New York: Routledge.
Hayward, S. (2006) Cinema Studies: The Key Concepts (3rd edition). London and New York: Routledge.
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Lehman, P. and Luhr, W. (2003) “Narrative Structure” in Thinking About Movies: Watching, Questioning, Enjoying (2nd edition). Oxford: Blackwell.
Mazullo, M. (2005) “Remembering Pop: David Lynch and the Sound of the ‘60s”. American Music, 23 (4): 493-513.
McGowan, T. (2000) “Finding Ourselves on a Lost Highway: David Lynch’s Lesson in Fantasy”. Cinema Journal, 39 (2): 51-73.
Official Press Kit for Lost Highway. http://www.lynchnet.com/lh/lhpress.html (accessed 20 March 2010)
Szebin, F. and Biodrowski, S. (1997) “David Lynch on Lost Highway”. Cinefantastique, 28 (10): 32-41.
Vass, M. (2005) “Cinematic meaning in the work of David Lynch: Revisiting Twin Peaks, Fire Walk with Me, Lost Highway, and Mulholland Drive”. Cineaction, 67 (Summer): 12-23.