The Best American Poetry

Ozu1 by Lewis Saul

"I think that Ozu is the greatest director ever to work in the history of cinema, and if I had to choose his competitor it would be Mizoguchi and if I lived on a desert island I would just take all their films with me and that would be fine. That's cinema as far as I'm concerned.

And I think he's making great films from almost the start of his career. I don't think we find a steady ascent towards perfection and then a falling off like we do find in some directors. I don't think we find that zigzag up and down that we find in many great directors like John Ford. I think this guy had the hottest hand of anybody. I can't imagine a film of Ozu that I would actively call 'bad'" (Ozu scholar David Bordwell, interview from The Only Son [1936] DVD).

How often have you heard someone refer to a film as being "poetic"? Googling "poetic film" took me here. These posts were made over a period of 14 months (8/09 to 10/10) and mention about 50 films. Not one Ozu film was proposed.

Michael Radford's brilliant Il Postino was mentioned several times; an obvious choice because the movie is about an actual poet (Neruda). So were such "dreamy" films as Herzog's Nosferatu the Vampyre, Tarkovsky's The Mirror (just about all of Tarkovsky's films feature the poetry of his father, Arseny), Benigni's Life is Beautiful and Tarantino's Pulp Fiction. All these so-called art films do in fact have either a dreamy, poetic quality about them or attempt to pretty much literally transform written poem to visual image (see most Tarkovsky, esp. Andrei Rublev)...

In these seven posts I will attempt to emphasize the particulars underlying my own personal assertion that the films of Yasujiro Ozu (1903-1963) are Poetry in Moving Images -- works of art eternal in their splendor which inspire one to decipher meaning, probe form, and observe the cosmic humor and tragedy on display.

Of course, there is nothing else remotely like Ozu in the history of cinema (though many now copy him) -- this uniqueness alone requires close investigation.

I have a pretty massive DVD collection (2000+). When I buy DVDs, I have only one criterion: is this a film that I will want to watch more than once? When I re-watch an Ozu film, I feel like an old friend has dropped by. We'll talk about the same old stuff and enjoy each other's company and that's the plot!

A typical Ozu film has very little going on, plot-wise. But because the story is presented to us with such unassuming realism; familiar characterization, meticulous set design; rock-solid steady and invisible camera; and the acting so completely void of artifice, the end result is something startlingly transcendental. (It is said that Ozu treated his actors badly ... he made them do so many takes, some thought it cruel -- but it was his way of beating out the "performer" in the actor and obtaining something very "real").

If you've already seen some or all of Ozu's surviving films, I hope you'll enjoy re-watching them, perhaps grokking anew with some of my more unusual bullet-points in mind. If you are new to Ozu, I hope my writing makes you interested in seeing these masterpieces. Imagine how gratified I will feel if you become an Ozu-nut, like myself.

Yasujiro Ozu was born in Tokyo on December 12, 1903. His father was a fertilizer salesman. He and his brothers -- as was the custom in middle-class families at the time -- were sent to the countryside to be educated. Ozu was a rebellious, undisciplined student. He matriculated no further than middle school, preferring his twin passions of watching American films and drinking. He rarely saw his father between 1913 and 1923, but forged a potent relationship with his loving mother -- Ozu never married and lived with her until her death in 1962 at the age of 87. Ozu himself died just a year later -- the day before his 60th birthday, December 11, 1963. Carved on his tombstone is a single Japanese character -- mu -- the Zen nothingness that is everything.

(For more detailed biographies, go here, here and here.)

Ozu's uncle got him his first job in the film industry as an assistant cameraman, which basically involved schlepping heavy cameras from place to place. He worked his way up to become an assistant director to the both now and then obscure Tadamoto Okubo, who "specialized in a kind of comedy which was called 'nonsense-mono' -- a running series of gags held together by a slight story line, a succession of chuckles intended to make the time pass" ["Ozu" by Donald Richie, p. 200] (must reading for any serious fan).

Ozu was quite satisfied with the position. He could drink to his heart's content (he was a heavy drinker, all his life) and had none of the responsibilities and worries that he quickly realized were the domain of the director.

Nevertheless, his friends urged him on and an incident (a waiter at the studio cafeteria insulted him) provoked him to overcome the inertia of his non-ambition. Besides, he had always loved film (almost all American -- at his job interview, he admitted to having seen only three Japanese films!) and probably felt the confidence to strike out on his own.

Ozu directed 54 films between 1927 and 1962.

• Thirty-seven survive in at least abbreviated form.
• Thirty-five are silent, 19 talkies.
• Forty-eight are in B&W and six in color.
• By decade:
  • 1921-1930: 19 films
  • 1931-1940: 18 films
  • 1941-1950: 6 films
  • 1951-1960: 18 films
  • 1961-1962: 2 films.
• Of the 37 surviving films, 27 are available on DVD -- most of them on the Criterion Collection or their budget label, Eclipse -- but some of the earlier films are available only from Asia, and require a region-free DVD player (which are quite affordable these days). Naturally, the quality of the Criterion releases is extraordinary.

Of the surviving completed films, I will discuss four in the first two posts; five in the third; four in the fourth and fifth; and three in each of the final two posts (the six color films) ...

Today:

*8. Gakusei romansu: Wakaki hi (Days of Youth) (4/13/29) (103 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]
*22. Tokyo no gassho (Tokyo Chorus) (8/15/31) (91 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]
*24. Umarete wa mita keredo (I Was Born, But...) (6/3/32) (100 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]
*28. Hijosen no onna (Dragnet Girl) (4/27/33) (100 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]

Lewis Saul's Sonatina

 

The Seven Most Meaningful Compositions That I Will Love Forever -- VII. BERIO: Sinfonia

One day during my short stint at Juilliard, the composer Milton Babbitt came to guest lecture one of my composition classes.

Mr. Babbitt gave us all a nice lecture on 20th century music and how serial music (12-tone) was here to stay and it shouldn't be "our" problem if people don't enjoy it or "understand" how to react to it...

I recall that my friends and I were horrified at such elitism. Although I had learned a great deal of serial technique my senior year in high school at IAA, my own personal inclination led me to reason that music should always sound interesting and should completely engage an audience. Certainly, we all toyed around with trying to write "interesting" 12-tone music.

And then one day ...

**

The Seven Most Meaningful Compositions That I Will Love Forever -- VI. BERG: Violin Concerto

Occasionally, the story behind the composition of a masterpiece is so entwined with the notes themselves, that it must be heard alongside the music.

In February of 1935, the American violinist Louis Krasner (who taught the teacher that both of my musician daughters studied with!!!) commissioned Berg to write him a violin concerto. Berg was busy composing his opera, Lulu, but was so broke he felt he could not refuse.

On April 22nd, Manon Gropius -- the 18-year-old daughter of Alma Mahler (who had left her husband, Gustav) and Walter Gropius -- died of poliomyelitis. Berg dedicated the concerto to her -- dem Andenken eines Engels ("In Memory of an Angel").

Berg finished the concerto as a piano score in July and was then stung by an insect at the base of his spine which gradually developed into an abscess. He died of septicaemia on December 23rd.

The piano reduction most likely indicated Berg's intentions vis-a-vis orchestration, but ultimately, the piece had to be carefully reconstructed by Krasner and his associates.

The Seven Most Meaningful Compositions That I Will Love Forever -- V. BARTOK: String Quartet No. 4

It was the summer of 1969 at National Music Camp at Interlochen, Michigan. It was my second summer at this magical Music & Arts camp and I had decided to major in Composition rather than Trombone.

The class was probably named something like "Contemporary Music Analysis." The teacher was Homer Keller, a composer and fantastic communicator.

I was in love with a girl who played oboe and composed. I tried so hard to concentrate and pay attention -- but I'm quite sure I missed a lot of good stuff while I was thinking about this beautiful girl and about something that would magically happen four years later -- but that's another story!!

Shortly after man first set foot on the moon, I took a giant step of my own.

As we settled into our chairs, Keller passed out copies of this quartet. The only Bartok I knew was the Concerto for Orchestra, which I had been in love with for years -- but for some reason, I had never heard any of the six string quartets.

Keller dropped the needle on the record. After the first few bars, my future "girlfriend" had a look on her face which I am quite sure was identical to my own. We were suddenly in another universe. Neither of us had ever heard music this powerful, scored for four instruments. After 22 minutes or so, we all sat, completely stunned by what we had just heard.

We spent the next few classes carefully analyzing the piece. Without getting too technical, I can tell you this:

The form of this masterpiece was something unfamiliar to us -- what Keller told us was called "Arch Form."

In other words, the relationship between movements is based upon themes (although it is probably better to use the term "motif" or even "cell") which Bartok sort of "mirrors" in movements 1 and 5; and 2 and 4.

The Seven Most Meaningful Compositions That I Will Love Forever -- IV. STRAVINSKY: Le Sacre du Printemps ("The Rite of Spring")

Wikipedia
Amazing San Francisco Symphony interactive media: "Keeping Score"
Player Piano version
Someone else's idea of what constitutes a great performance

And that is exactly the kind of subjective question which sits before us today, begging for some type of an answer:

Yes, Bernstein '58 is fantastic -- I own it, along with 20+ other recordings of this masterpiece -- often referred to as the greatest composition of the 20th century (I won't argue too strenuously otherwise)...

His description of the Bernstein recording:

" ... A huge number of spot microphones must have been used, as we seem to crawl inside each of the instruments, and can actually feel the buzz of a vibrating reed, the grip of a rosined bow, the impact of a plucked string, the tense breath on a flute, the biting flatulence of the heavy brass. The very air reverberates with the sounds of primal nature, like an ancient forest pulsing with life. Above it all the percussion section is given extreme prominence, far louder than could be generated in any auditorium, with the tympani in particular tearing the sonic fabric with their harsh blows."

The Seven Most Meaningful Compositions That I Will Love Forever -- III. MAHLER: Symphony No. 2 in C Minor

MAHLER, Gustav: Symphony No. 2 in C Minor (1888-1894)

During my senior year of high school at the Interlochen Arts Academy, I had the rare privilege of playing Fourth Trombone in the "A" orchestra (which normally only used three), which was preparing this piece under our Musical Director, Nicholas Harsanyi (who went to school with Bartok and jammed with Einstein [see article]). His wife, Janice, would sing the solo soprano part.

It was an exciting time. The rehearsals were difficult, sometimes grueling -- but everyone was so dedicated, and many months later, we pulled off a pretty good performance or two.

See how Mahler extended the traditional orchestra:

Four Flutes (all doubling piccolo)
Four Oboes (3rd and 4th doubling English Horns)
Three Clarinets in B-Flat, A and C (3rd doubling Bass Clarinet)
Two E-Flat Clarinets (2nd doubling 4th Clarinet)
Four Bassoons (3rd and 4th doubling Contrabassoon)
Ten French Horns in F (7-10 used offstage)
Eight to Ten Trumpets in F and C (4-6 used offstage)
Four Trombones
Tuba
Seven Percussionists!
    Timpani (2 players, 8 timpani, with a third player in the last movement using two of the second timpanist's drums)
    Several snare drums
    Bass Drum
    Cymbals
    Triangle
    Glockenspiel
    Three deep, untuned steel rods or bells
    Rute, or "switch," to be played on the shell of the bass drum
    Two tam-tams (high and low)
Offstage Percussion in Movement 5: (Bass drum with cymbals attached (played by the same percussionist); Triangle, Timpani
Organ (Fifth Movement only)
Soprano Solo (Fifth Movement only)
Alto (or Mezzo-Soprano) Solo (Fourth and Fifth Movements only)
Mixed Chorus (Fifth Movement only)
Harps I, II (several to each part in the last movement and possibly at one point in the Scherzo)
"The largest possible contingent of strings"
First and Second Violins
Violas
Violincellos
Double Basses (some with low C extension)

The Seven Most Meaningful Compositions That I Will Love Forever -- II. BEETHOVEN: String Quartet in C# Minor, Op. 131

BEETHOVEN, Ludwig van: String Quartet in C# Minor, Op. 131 (1825)

 It was forty years ago today ...

No, that can't be right -- it just sounded nice! But it was like 39 or so -- and it was Paris -- a Montparnasse cafe in fact and it was raining lightly (probably) and I knew a poet (definitely) who expressed his unreserved enthusiasm for Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, Op. 125 -- particularly the final movement, the "Ode To Joy," where Beethoven unleashes all the forces at his disposal, including vocal soloists and chorus.

I tried to explain to this poet how Beethoven -- using only the simplest and most basic harmonic structure (think two-chord rock 'n roll) -- spins the earth around with powerful orchestration and unbelievablly brilliant variation in color and temperment ...

... but the best part was that this particular poet taught me the meaning of the German words which I had never really taken the trouble to learn.

Muß ein lieber vater wohnen means a lot more to me now thanks to this wonderful poet friend who turned me on to James Joyce, playfully informed me that Joan Miró was not a woman -- and had the good sense to bring Frank Zappa along as the soundtrack to our local hysteria ...

**

Much like his musical output as a whole, Beethoven’s 17 string quartets can be divided into three convenient periods: Early, Middle and Late.

Early: Opus 18, Nos. 1-6, all written between 1798-1800;
Middle: Opus 59, Nos. 1-3 (1805/6); Op. 74, the “Harp” (1809), and Op. 95 (1810);
Late: Op. 127, 130, 131, 132, 133, 135 (1823-26) 

I cannot recall when I first heard a Late Beethoven quartet. It must have been my senior year of high school at the Interlochen Arts Academy, where my composition teacher had pointed me towards the microfiche machine and a few spools of microfilm which contained the Complete Works of Beethoven! How I used to pour over those beautiful scores, surfing the microfilm the way we do the net today -- carefully studying these (mostly) unfamiliar scores.

Lewis Saul, Guest Blogger July 11-17

This week we welcome Lewis Saul as our guest blogger.  Lewis is a composer who lives in Tucson, AZ. He studied composition at Juilliard and with Nadia Boulanger in Paris. You can read his brilliant posts about the films of Kurosawa here. 

Welcome, Lew.

In other news . . . 

New Poem by David Lehman up over at Todd Swift's Eyewear.  Thanks, Todd!

Publication! Celebrity! Film contract! Immortality!  Maggy  announces its  first poetry contest, with winning poems selected by the amazing Dara Wier. Winning poems will be published in Maggy, issue 2, due out in fall 2010, and will be announced by September 1st. Judging will be blind.  Deadline, July 31.  Details here.

Try the one-letter challenge.

The Seven Most Meaningful Compositions That I Will Love Forever -- I. BACH: St. Matthew Passion

BACH, Johann Sebastian: Passio Domini Nostri J.C. Secundum Evangelistam Matthaeum (St. Matthew Passion), BWV 244 (1727/rev. 1736) 

It was 1970, Wealthy Connecticut, and August when a friend knocked on the front door of semi-famous folk singer Bill Crofut, who kindly invited us into his home. I immediately recognized the glorious music coming from a pair of perfectly placed KLH Six speakers as being this piece. The analog information etched into the grooves of a pristine 33-1/3 RPM Long Playing recording made in Germany (the Archiv label, a division of Deutsche Grammophon Records) traveled from vinyl to diamond to pre-amp to amp and finally to the KLH pair, and it felt as if we were completely surrounded by the musicians and singers! Crofut then explained how he had actually sung in the Münchener Bach-Chor in 1958 on this very recording (#4 below).

Fast forward thirty years or so and I’m carefully setting my precious 336-page Eulenberg score down on the table, making sure it doesn’t get stained with my tears, which flow copiously. I had just finished score-studying another recording of this great, three-hour masterpiece (#5 below), and the tears were flowing. I definitely had an ecstatic musical epiphany on that day, and have had a -- forgive me -- passionate love-affair with this composition ever since!

Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Bach

Bach’s fantastic religious fervor is evident in every note of his massive output -- and never better displayed than here; evidence the care and love with which he brought this great masterpiece to life -- nearly 300 years ago. Incredibly (to us), the Matthew Passion was never heard again outside of Leipzig until Felix Mendelssohn organized a performance of a shortened version in 1829 -- two years after Beethoven had died!

Some excellent links about the Passion -- the musical setting of the various Gospel texts which tell the crucifixion story:

Passion (Music)
Catholic Encyclopedia
St. Matthew Passion 

Magnificent in detail, a fairly technical essay by the great scholar Joshua Rifkin:

AN IMPORTANT POINT:

“ … [A]fter so many decades of research, certain fundamental questions about the music, and the way its composer wanted it to sound, remain tantalizingly obscure. Even now they can fuel passionate factional debate.” -- Timothy Roberts, “A Passion to Arouse Passions,” from booklet to #3, below.