What could Debussy and Nureyev possibly have in common with Tarantino? Nothing. And that is a bit of a story. Care to hear it? OK.
I'm taking two free University courses as a senior guest auditor (over 60=free classes at my university). They meet back to back at 11:00 am--(The Symphony--my first non-film class) and 12:05 pm--(American Film--1970-Present). It has been a difficult juxtaposition all semester and today it was so difficult that I had to write something.
First, let me say that the instructors in these classes are top notch. Fabulously knowledgeable. Very enthusiastic. Have a deep and abiding love and respect for their subject. A very enjoyable break in my Mondays and Wednesdays. So wonderful that the University has a place for art for its own sake. No questions about how it helps the economy of the state. Not as (as Harvey Goldberg used to say) "a vendible commodity." Just art. Universities have a great civilizing function. We shouldn't forget that in the darkness that is today's world.
That said, many of the American films of 1970-present have an unmistakable streak of violence and mysogyny. Of the films we've seen so far, examples are Taxi Driver, Blade Runner, Die Hard, The Silence of the Lambs, L.A. Confidential, and Jackie Brown. These films are all demonstrative of other trends in American film in the time period. In that way they are important indicators of different concepts, which I need not go into here. But the undercurrent of violence and mysogyny, and the all too often romanticization and fetishization of that undercurrent wears me down. After seeing these films, I often wonder what being shot must feel like. It must hurt. I wonder if all the watching numbs me to the pain. But I watch. And watch.
The music class offers me nothing but great classical music, deconstructed. It is beautiful and soothing. Most of my friends took this class when we were undergraduates, some 40-45 years ago. I resisted because I felt it might be too difficult for me. I was correct. I am far beyond the power relationships of a university class, the judgement that goes with exams and papers. Been there. Done that. Three times. But the class is difficult. Music is mathematical. I am not. It is a language. I am fluent in only one language. There is a depth to it far beyond what I can comprehend. It has always been background in my life. Good music gets my mind into a riff and I fantasize and forget where (and sometimes who) I am. I am learning there is lots more to great music than that. But mostly it is just beautiful to listen to. Always puts me in a great frame of mind.
Then the class ends and I go to the film class. And that's where the juxtaposition problem begins. So far, Mozart's Symphony No. 40 has been juxtaposed with a deconstruction of Die Hard. Beethoven's Ode to Joy with The Silence of the Lambs. Etc. The mood swings are difficult.
Today, I think, was hardest of all. In the music class, background on Claude Debussy and the end of Romanticism. The beginning of modern classical music. The example was Prelude to the Afternoon of a Fawn. About 12 minutes of the most beautiful music I've ever heard. And not just the music. The instructor found a video of a balletic interpretation that was choreographed by Nijinski and danced by Nureyev. Prelude is a sensual piece. Nureyev, it seemed to me, made love with it. It was beautiful. My feet barely touched the ground as I made my way to the film class.
And there was a deconstruction of Tarantino's Jackie Brown. The instructor absolutely nailed the deconstruction. After 10 weeks, I expect no less, and he always delivers. Makes you think in many different ways, with many different concepts about these films. Almost makes me forget the brutality that is Tarantino. Jackie Brown is actually, of the Tarantino films I've seen, one of the more thoughtful and sensitive. But it's still Tarantino. The deconstruction was perfectly timed, and reached a crescendo with a clip of one of the murders in the film. Below I have linked to both the Debussy and Tarantino. Both are art. Both are done by artists who are almost impossibly gifted. One brought me to heights of joy. The other crashed me on my head against the concrete. Art is complex and difficult. These two classes are dialectical in a way. I haven't figured out what the synthesis is yet. Maybe there isn't any.
Claude Debussy: Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun. Joffrey Ballet.
Choreography: Vaslav Nijinski. Principle dancer: Rudolf Nureyev.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2GqGVkfUip8
Jackie Brown, Directed by Quentin Tarantino
Murder of Louis:
Part 1:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fh-7WQr_daM
Part 2:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3e7wbs_xfas
