The Best American Poetry

Ozu6 by Lewis Saul

In 1951, Keisuke Kinoshita's Carmen Comes Home became the first Japanese film in color. Two years later, Kinugasa's Gate of Hell became an international hit. Ozu did not like the way red turned out on Eastman Kodak film. It wasn't until he was satisfied with the Agfa red looked that he proceeded to make a color film.

Kurosawa waited even longer. In his first color film, Dodesukaden, made in 1970, he was so dissatisfied with the way "reality" looked that he painted most of the sets with loud, garish colors so as to mute the harsh natural colors of his locations. Five years later, Dersu Uzala was made in beautiful 70mm widescreen; and finally in 1980 and 1985 we get the splendid gorgeous colors of Kagemusha and Ran.

And so the rainbow bursts ... 

*49. Higanbana (Equinox Flower) (9/7/58) (118 min.) [Sound Color] [buy it here]

A daughter wishes to marry the man of her choice, but her father objects. Her mother understands her feelings, however, as does her friend from Kyoto. Eventually, the father is won over.

• From the Late Ozu set on Eclipse.
• The credits themselves are gorgeous to look at -- bright red, white and black lettering.
• This is a large ensemble with a fantastic cast. The president of Shochiku himself more or less ordered Ozu to make this film in color to show off their latest beauty, Fujiko Yamamoto (Yukiko, daughter of Hatsu Sasaki [Chieko Naniwa]).
• Interestingly, Ozu doesn't give her the star role of Setsuko (Ineko Arima), but that of Yukiko, Setsuko's mirror image character ...
• Nothing has changed in Ozu's basic style, other than the complete elimination of any camera movement -- even pans and dolly shots. These introductory pillow shots are typical -- yet in color, they seem to visually reverberate with weight:
  • 0:03:00: The railway station, clock at 2:50 PM.
  • 0:03:09: Wider view
  • 0:03:16: The automatic timetable which we've seen so frequently in the past few B&W films
  • 0:03:25: A wedding party; beautiful clothes
• 0:03:31: Two porters, sitting on a bench taking a break. They're rating all the brides they've seen this day.
• 0:04:18: This is the first shot we have of the wedding, but Ozu has already started the sound of a monk chanting during the last cut -- a transition shot of the railway ...

Ozu5 by Lewis Saul

*45. Ochazuke no aji (Flavor of Green Tea Over Rice) (10/1/52) (115 min.) [Sound B&W] [buy it here]

A middle-aged, middle-class couple experience a crisis in their marriage. With no children to create a bond, married life has lost its meaning in routine. They both attempt to improve and hence create a stronger marriage.

• All-regions DVD.
• This somewhat unusual film is sandwiched between two great masterpieces, Early Summer and Tokyo Story. Hopefully this pic is being considered as a Criterion Collection candidate. It is not in the same league as the above-mentioned films, but it is a very good film.
• Ozu pulled this script out of the drawer -- it is the same one that the Japanese censors rejected in 1941. The Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family took its place.
• In the original script, the husband was going off to war. "Rather than the customary rich ceremonial food, they decide on a dish that is among the most simple, the most Japanese. It was to have been a gentle, intimate, reflective film, filled with observations of Japanese character in times of stress" (Richie, p. 227).
• Obviously, the script had to be radically altered in this 1952 version. The husband is going to Uruguay on business instead of going off to fight the Americans. The simple dinner happens as a reconciliation between a quarrelling couple.
• Nevertheless, the denouement here always brings tears to my eyes.
• Shin Saburi (Mokichi) is quite good as this rather subdued character. He made four other films with Ozu.
• Michiyo Kogure (Taeko) likewise, who is here asked to make a fairly major character transformation. This is rare in Ozu -- most characters never go through such dramatic changes. This is her only appearance in an Ozu film.
• Keiko Tsushima (Setsuko) also makes her only Ozu appearance.
• The score is by Ichirô Saitô -- 147 IMDb credits! He scored two other Ozu films (Record of a Tenement Gentleman [1947] and The Munekata Sisters [1950]) as well as three great Mizoguchi masterpieces, Life of Oharu (1952), Ugetsu (1953) and A Geisha (1953).
• His score here is very fitting. Like the film, it moves and sweeps and is certainly more upbeat than most Ozu scores.
• For example, the overture, played over the opening credits, is most unusual for an Ozu film, containing dramatic ups and downs, big crescendi, deceptive cadences -- until it finally settles on a major chord -- pause -- (director's credit) -- he puts the third of the chord on top ...
• Taeko and Setsuko are in a big touring car (jaunty, almost jazzy piano)

Some outstanding moments:

• Aya, the "modern girl" (Chikage Awashima) owns her own dress shop.
• 0:08:27: Aya and Taeko have hatched a conspiracy to go away -- girls only -- to a spa. Taeko calls her husband at work, ready to lie to him, but he isn't there. Where is he? Ozu shows us his empty desk ("Machinery Dept.") ...
• 0:08:34: The workplace; filing cabinets, backs of men working, windows ...
• 0:08:42: Through a window, looking down on the street ...
• 0:08:50: Sign: "Echo Bar" ...
• 0:08:58: Man drinking -- but it's not Mokichi, it's his friend, Noboru (Koji Tsuruta) ...
• 0:09:19: Mokichi arrives.

 The characters sing a lot in this film:

• 0:11:29: Noboru sings, Mokichi keeps time with his fingers ...
• 0:22:11: Aya begins a song at the spa ...
• 0:44:21: Ryu sings a wartime song ...

Ozu wants to take us into the Satake home from the previous bar scene.

• 0:12:02: Left of frame: a cabinet; right, a table, a few cups. Ozu gently pulls back the camera just a wee bit to take in the room ... then we follow the maid through the house as she brings a tray to Taeko ...
• 0:13:23: As usual, there is a mirror for the previous camera movement. Now he moves it gently forward, following the couple down a hallway ...
• 0:17:57: Camera fixed outside train -- in this film, these shots have flashier impact than in other films. The telephone poles and bridge supports seem to barely miss hitting the camera! (another great train shot occurs at 1:22:14.)
• 0:21:35: At the spa, Taeko lies to her husband on the telephone. She hangs up on him and then immediately picks up the receiver again, and -- thinking she is talking to the operator -- says, "More sake, please." She realizes he is still on the line. The women don't make much of it -- but "Mr. Thick-head" would certainly have figured that one out. (In the end, we learn that he knew exactly what his wife was doing.)
• 0:32:18: More parallel camera movements. Here, back at the house (from a baseball game) we see the empty room and hear the door buzzer as the camera pulls back. Taeko arrives home to find Setsuko there. "I'll never call my husband Mr. Fat-head" ...
• 0:35:36: And the camera pushes forward on Mokichi at his desk ...
• 0:36:00: More parallelism: The President wants to talk with Mokichi. The meeting is interrupted, but The President tells his father-in-law, who had come to visit, that he'll probably send Mokichi abroad soon. At 1:23:23 he tells him ...
• 0:40:14: Chishu Ryu is Sadao Hirayama, who runs the pachinko parlor ...
• 0:48:12: From Early Summer: Identical pillow shots leading into the Kabuki theatre scene. Identical pan down the aisle, except here we the camera stops on Taeko and a man we've not seen before (Setsuko's suitor) ...
• 1:08:05: Mokichi brings things to a head with Taeko: "If you force her (Setsuko) to marry, she'll end up like us." Taeko is a bitter and angry woman. Her transformation is staggering ...
• 1:28:20: Airplane taking off ...
• 1:35:33: From here on, Ozu does an amazing job with stillness of character. With no dialogue, Taeko sits at Mokichi's desk and begins to regret her behavior ... some gorgeous interior pillows ... and the clock strikes eleven bells. Mokichi is back (plane trouble).
• The rest of the film is both filled emotional resonance and just the right amount of humorous interplay. As they make the Ochazuke, we hear the clock strike twelve.
• 1:55:00: The film ends with Setsuko and Noboru playfully courting.
• This film was released the day after my birth.

 

Ozu4 by Lewis Saul

*41. Kaze no naka no mendori (A Hen in the Wind) (9/20/48) (90 min.) [Sound B&W] [buy it here]

A destitute woman is awaiting the demobilization of her husband when her child falls ill. She prostitutes herself to pay the hospital. When her husband returns, she tells all. He knocks her down the stairs but later apologizes, suddenly realizing all she has been through.

• The DVD is all-region.
• Kinuyo Tanaka is excellent as the wife.
• Once again, we have the sick child and the wife freaking out because there is no money for the hospital bill. (Health care debate, anyone?)
• The melodrama reaches a boiling point. The screen time between his pushing her down the stairs and the end where all is forgiven and they embrace is just a few short minutes.
• However, if we contemplate the situation deeply, we might come to the conclusion that this man -- who probably committed, or at least witnessed, some pretty terrible atrocities himself in recent years -- has realized that his wife's transgression is petty in comparison -- even honorable!
• The print is in excellent shape.

*42. Banshun (Late Spring) (9/1949) (108 min.) [Sound B&W) [buy it here]

A young woman, somewhat past the usual marriage age, lives with her father in Kamakura. She is happy with him, and when she hears of one of his friends remarrying, she disapproves. The father, however, feels that he is keeping her from marriage. She refuses several offers. Then her aunt tells her that her father is thinking of remarrying. She is disturbed, but believing that this is what he wants, she agrees to get married herself. Father and daughter go on a final trip together to Kyoto. When they return, she is married. The father, who had no intention of remarrying, is left alone.

• This Criterion release is a 2-disc set, which includes an excellent booklet with two essays; audio commentary by Richard Peña, program director of New York's Film Society of Lincoln Center; and -- best of all -- Wim Wender's tribute to Ozu: Tokyo-Ga (1985).
• One of a half-dozen or so Ozu films universally considered a masterpiece.
• I cannot find any real information about how Ozu and Setsuko Hara actually met, but there can be no doubt that he saw her work prior to 1949 -- including her star turn (one of the very few "female" pics) for Kurosawa in 1946 in No Regrets for Our Youth.
• Just as we had a "Kihachi" trilogy, this film is the first of the "Noriko" trilogy.
• This is the only film not to use the burlap weave background behind the credits since A Story of Floating Weeds. Instead, we have what looks like an aerial view of dried, cracked mud...

Ozu begins the film with four extraordinarily beautiful pillow shots:

1. [11 sec] Sign in Japanese and English: "Kitakamakura Station." We hear the ticking of a telegraph and a bell sounds...
2. [6 sec] Railroad tracks, fence, trees and sky in background...
3. [6 sec] Unlit signal light framed between two poles; lush trees in background...
4. [7 sec] Roof of large house...

The leisurely music begins in Cut 2; birds chirping.

• Something so relaxing in this pacing.
• The camera is at one end of a hallway, facing five women in kimonos, seated in an L-shape. Another woman enters -- her back to the camera -- and kneels, bows to the other women, who return her bow with a deep unison group bow...
• Reverse angle and we get our first Ozu shot of the beautiful Setsuko Hara.
• She sits down next to her aunt, another Ozu newcomer, who will also become a "regular" in the final films: the amazing Haruko Sugimura. (Kurosawa gave her a wicked role in his 1965 masterpiece Red Beard, where she plays the abusive whorehouse madame.)
• They converse, another woman, Akiko (the gorgeous Kuniko Miyake) enters, same bowing, and then
• Ozu cuts to three more pillow shots: stone steps, flowers and the teahouse. Then back to the women. The pacing is magical...
• The tea ceremony is quite beautiful.

Ozu3 by Lewis Saul

Today:

*36. Hitori musuko (The Only Son) (9/15/36) (87 min.) [Sound B&W] [buy it here]
*37. Shukujo wa nani o wasureta ka (What Did the Lady Forget?) (3/3/37) (73 min.) [Sound B&W] [buy it here]
*38. Todake no kyodai (The Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family) (3/1/41) (105 min.) [Sound B&W] [buy it here]
*39. Chichi ariki (There Was a Father) (4/1/42) (94 min.) [Sound B&W] [buy it here]
*40. Nagaya shinshiroku (Record of a Tenement Gentleman) (5/20/47) (72 min.) [Sound B&W] [buy it here]

~~~

34. Kagamijishi (6/29/36) (24 min.) [Sound/Silent B&W clip of 17:36 here]

Ozu's only documentary was commissioned by the Japan Cultural Association to promote indigenous culture abroad. Kagamijishi is a lion dance in kabuki, about a court dancer who becomes possessed by a lion mask, and transforms from coy young maid to a fierce being with flowing mane. Shot in two parts, the dancing scenes were filmed in June 1935 using synch sound by the Tsuchihashi system. The silent, second part, shot in May 1936, takes place in the dressing room and shows the celebrated leading man Onoe Kikugoro IV reciting a poem. At the preview, guests commented on the unnatural expressions of the dancer and the authorities decided to withdraw the film.

It is astonishing to watch the very first Ozu images combined with live sound! However, instead of family conversations, we have beautiful Japanese orchestral music and some really amazing dancing!

• An excellent use of eighteen minutes of your busy day... 

35. Daigaku yoitoko (College is a Nice Place) (3/19/36) (114 min.) (Silent B&W NEP]

Ozu called it "a dark film" making the title ironic. The graduates return home and begin a hopeless search for jobs.

*36. Hitori musuko (The Only Son) (9/15/36) (83 min.) [Sound B&W] [buy it here]

A woman whose husband is no help to her at all raises her only son by herself, working hard so that he can be graduated from a university in Tokyo. Later, she spends most of her savings to visit him. She finds him married and with a child, and he, in turn, spends most of his money entertaining her in the capital.

• Another excellent Criterion release; paired with There Was a Father (1942).
• First feature film with sound.
• No commentary; but excellent interviews with Tadao Sato, David Bordwell and Kristin Thompson, Ozu scholars.
• The song Old Black Joe is incorporated throughout the score and is used at the very end as a kind of ironic commentary on the story...
• The background behind the credits is similar to the burlap weave which he began using in A Story of Floating Weeds. He does use the traditional weave for the intertitles.
• Ozu immediately lets us know that heavy business is to follow with an initial intertitle (in his first talkie!):
  • "Life's tragedy begins with the bond between parent and child. -- Ryunosuke Akutagawa"
    • (Akutagawa wrote the short story that Kurosawa turned into Rashomon.)
• The son's name is Ryosuke.
• An intertitle gives us the place and the time: "Shinshu, Central Japan -- 1923."
• The film begins with a self-referential joke ~ in many of his silents Ozu would show two clocks with a two- or three-minute differential; here we hear nine gongs, as the women carrying boxes filled with silkworms walk by ... it is 9:00 A.M. Silence. Then another set of bells begins to chime; Ozu cuts it off after the sixth ring!

Ozu2 by Lewis Saul

Today:

*29. Dekigokoro (Passing Fancy) (9/17/33) (101 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]
*30. Haha wo kowazuya (A Mother Should Be Loved) (5/11/34) (93 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]
*31. Ukikusa monogatari (A Story of Floating Weeds) (11/23/34) (86 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]
*33. Tôkyô no yado (An Inn in Tokyo) (11/21/35) (82 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]

***

*29. Dekigokoro (Passing Fancy) (9/17/33) (101 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]

A subtle and beautiful film about a boy and his father who live together in a tenement, the father working, the boy going to school. The father is attracted to a younger woman, and though nothing comes of it, the boy is worried and disappointed. Offered a new job in a distant town, the father goes off only to leave when halfway there to return to his son.

• This boxed Eclipse set also includes "I Was Born, But..." and "Tokyo Chorus" ... The Sosin score is, like the other two, a perfect compliment to this silent film.
• The first in the so-called "Kihachi" series -- named for the main character, played by Takeshi Sakamoto, who appeared in 24 Ozu films between 1928 and 1948. Chishu Ryu appeared in 33 (acc. IMDb; Ryu himself claimed he was in every Ozu picture but two, for a total of 52). Ryu would eventually pick up where Sakamoto left off in the portrayal of the Ozu alter-ego character...
• Both Sakamoto, who was Iwasaki, the boss, and young Tomio Aoki, who played Keiji in I Was Born, But... give beautiful, naturalistic performances here.
• Ryu plays the naniwabushi "singer" in the opening music hall sequence.
• There are three main gags in the scene, which is notable for Ozu's quick introduction of characters and the swiftly panning camera:
  • 1) Kihachi finds an empty coin purse and it gets passed around;
  • 2) Everyone gets attacked by biting fleas; and
  • 3) The way the barber applauds...
• A lovely transition: Tomio is helping his hungover father get dressed. His pants are torn and he smooths out the rip with his hand -- cut -- CU: Otome (Chôko Iida) is sewing the pants; cut to a medium shot where we see Tomio eating in the background...
• In a variation on a typical Ozu theme, the father plays hookey while the responsible son goes to school...
• The scene where Tomio unleashes his furious rage at his father is one of the most powerful moments in all of Ozu's films...
• Of course, no good deed goes unpunished. After making up with his son and giving him 50 sen spending money (a huge sum ~ remember the rice curry in Tokyo Chorus @ seven sen per plate?), the kid gets sick from eating too much (orange pop, jelly, cookies, fried cake, toffee, watermelon, and of course the cold sake Kihachi force-fed him).
• In the scenes leading up to Kihachi's departure, Ozu punctuates transitions with shots of exploding fireworks...
• The final scene recalls a shared father-son joke and ends on a fermata of swaying trees...

 

*30. Haha wo kowazuya (A Mother Should Be Loved) (5/11/34) (73 min.) [Silent B&W] [buy it here]

A family film about the relations between two half-brothers who have different mothers; good character delineation, somewhat spoiled by melodrama.

• The DVD requires a region-free player.

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 (5000+). 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]

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.

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.

XXVIII. The 30 Films of Akira Kurosawa: Dersu Uzala [1975] (by Lewis Saul)]

Ed note:  For the next several weeks, composer and film aficionado Lewis Saul has agreed to supply us with in-depth commentary about the films of Akira Kurosawa, now showing in an extended festival at the Film Forum. Even if you're unable to stop by the Forum, we think Lew's insights will deepen your appreciation of these important movies.

Dersu Uzala [1975]

PLAYED February 4th at The Film Forum

This is Kurosawa's 25th film.

After the failure of Dodesukaden (1970), Kurosawa attempted suicide, almost certainly because he felt that he would never again be permitted to direct a serious film.

At the time this was completely, brutally true ... and we can only thank God that Kurosawa's maid heard the running water and he was rescued in time ... to make films like this one!!!

In early 1973, the Soviet Union invited Kurosawa to make a Russian film. Of course, in some ways he had already made two (Hakuchi [The Idiot] {1951} and Donzoko [The Lower Depths] {1957}) -- but this would be his first film completely in a language other than Japanese!

The film is based on the autobiography of Vladimir Arseniev (a brilliant Yuri Solomin), a Russian soldier in charge of several surveying expeditions in the Ussuri region of Siberia in the early 1900's. He meets Dersu (Maksim Munzuk, you will never forget him!), a Goldi (Mongolian). Not much happens, other than what normally happens in Siberia on any given day in any given season by any given surveying crew at the start of the 20th century! If Kurosawa were simply intent on allowing us the pleasure of this travelogue ... dayenu, as my people say -- it would have been enough! But this incredible human interest story is so very pertinent today, 35 years later, as human beings continue to act as they did 100 years ago, which is when this story begins -- the year Kurosawa was born: 1910.

XXVII. The 30 Films of Akira Kurosawa: Tsubaki Sanjûrô [1962] (by Lewis Saul)]

• Ed note:  For the next several weeks, composer and film aficionado Lewis Saul has agreed to supply us with in-depth commentary about the films of Akira Kurosawa, now showing in an extended festival at the Film Forum. Even if you're unable to stop by the Forum, we think Lew's insights will deepen your appreciation of these important movies.

Tsubaki Sanjûrô [1962]

PLAYED February 3rd at The Film Forum

This is Kurosawa's 21st film.

It would be logical to assume that Kurosawa put this film together after the incredible success of Yojimbo [1961]. But it would not be true.

A samurai hero who uses his "brains more than his sword" (Galbraith, p. 324).

Along with regulars Hideo Oguni and Ryûzô Kikushima, Kurosawa had started to work on a screenplay (based on a story by Shûgorô Yamamoto -- Hibi Heian ["A Break in the Tranquillity"]) -- with such a character before shooting on Yojimbo began. Kurosawa wanted his friend Hiromichi Horikawa to direct, but Toho -- who must have sensed an awesome Criterion double-DVD -- insisted that Kurosawa direct.

The main difference between the two films is this: Yojimbo was set in a dusty town in the middle of nowhere where lawlessness ruled, whereas this film is set in a "castle town" -- that is, a world of lords and ladies, superintendents and chamberlains, young samurai retainers and ... of course, our hero, Sanjuro! (There is a fun debate on the IMDb about whether this film is a sequel or a prequel! To me, it seems to take place during an earlier time period than the one shown in Yojimbo.) However,

" ... it doesn't really matter. One of the most important things about adventure stories with a hero who isn't tied down, is that he can be reinvented with each new episode. If, though, one is going to play this game of figuring out which story comes first, then in my opinion, the deepening of Sanjuro's character that we see in this film suggests that its story is subsequent to the one in Yojimbo" [SP].

To my way of thinking, Galbraith nails it: the theme of this film is quite simple -- nothing is what it seems [p. 324]. Mutsuta, the chamberlain (Yûnosuke Itô) is ugly -- but he's the good guy; the handsome Hanbei Muroto (Tatsuya Nakadai) is the villain. The confident boy samurai are incompetent while the scruffy Sanjuro is a master. Et cetera. The theme drives the plot and the three writers made the character much more active than originally written and created a scenario which is -- at times -- very very funny.

XXVI. The 30 Films of Akira Kurosawa: Yojimbo [1961] (by Lewis Saul)]

Ed note:  For the next several weeks, composer and film aficionado Lewis Saul has agreed to supply us with in-depth commentary about the films of Akira Kurosawa, now showing in an extended festival at the Film Forum. Even if you're unable to stop by the Forum, we think Lew's insights will deepen your appreciation of these important movies.

Yojimbo [1961]

PLAYING February 3rd at The Film Forum

This is Kurosawa's 20th film.

Interestingly, Galbraith (whose book, after all, is a dual-biography of both Mifune and Kurosawa) begins this chapter ("Mulberries, Camellias, and Cacti" [the "cacti" refers to a film Mifune made in Mexico called Ánimas Trujano {El Hombre Importante} |1961|]) with this statement:

"Mifune's next film would be the picture that deeply etched his screen persona, to both good and bad effect, for the rest of his life." [p. 301].

In fact -- although Kurosawa was already an international star after Rashômon (In the Woods) [1950] -- this film perhaps cemented Kurosawa's reputation, as well. There is no way that Galbraith could overstate the degree to which Mifune became an international superstar after this film became so successful! A career-defining performance!

This movie is simply a blast to watch! One hundred and ten minutes pass and you wonder where the time went!

"The story opens in 1860. Mifune, a ronin named Sanjuro, is seen wandering under the opening titles in tight close-ups. His journey is interrupted by the appearance of a farmer's son (Yosuke Natsuki), a youth sick of the rural life, in want of fame and fortune. His father tries to dissuade him, but the farmer's son wants a 'short and exciting life' and runs off. Soon thereafter, Sanjuro reaches a small, hellish town. Windows slide open, and geisha and thugs stare at him suspiciously.

XXV. The 30 Films of Akira Kurosawa: Akahige (Red Beard) [1965] (by Lewis Saul)]

Ed note:  For the next several weeks, composer and film aficionado Lewis Saul has agreed to supply us with in-depth commentary about the films of Akira Kurosawa, now showing in an extended festival at the Film Forum. Even if you're unable to stop by the Forum, we think Lew's insights will deepen your appreciation of these important movies.

Akahige (Red Beard) [1965]

PLAYING February 2nd at The Film Forum

This is Kurosawa's 23rd film.

This is an important film for many reasons: it's the last film in his "middle period" (approx. post-Occupation [1952] to 1965); Toshirô Mifune's 16th and final appearance in a Kurosawa film; his last black & white film; his last film of a certain kind of style and visual design (fast cutting dolly shots, etc.) and -- like Shichinin no samurai (The Seven Samurai) [1954] -- the last film which would push the limits of what a filmmaker could do to an audience in three hours (185 minutes plus intermission -- over 3:05).

"'I had something special in mind when I made [Red Beard] because I wanted to make something . . . so magnificent that people would just have to see it.'" [Kurosawa quoted in Galbraith, p. 372].

"Set in 19th century Edo, the film is a clash between old and new. It tells the story of a young, conceited doctor, Yasumoto (Yûzô Kayama), sent by his father to visit a hospital-clinic for the poor. Here conditions are a far cry from the luxuries he enjoyed during his Dutch-influenced training in Nagasaki, and he is appalled by the dregs of human misery he finds. Paying his respects to the intimidating head of the clinic, Dr. Kyojo Niide, nicknamed 'Red Beard' (Mifune), the vain Yasumoto is shocked to learn that he has been assigned there as an intern. Through his wealthy family and various connections, Yasumoto had expected an assignment in the Imperial Court (as the Shogun's personal physician). Feeling the post far beneath his abilities, Yasumoto does everything in his power to incur the wrath of Red Beard and win his dismissal.

IKIRU rip-off (by Lewis Saul)

Sorry, but I can't abide. Even if this was not Kurosawa, I think I'd probably feel the same way. This is just plain LAZINESS, folks. Kurosawa did all the work and this fan of the group (sorry, I know they're huge, don't know any of their stuff -- and this song SUCKS [imho]) just put the images to their lame music. Forgive the unsolicited rant. Shit like this just burns me up. What do you think, David?

XXIV. The 30 Films of Akira Kurosawa: Dodesukaden [1970] (by Lewis Saul)]

Ed note:  For the next several weeks, composer and film aficionado Lewis Saul has agreed to supply us with in-depth commentary about the films of Akira Kurosawa, now showing in an extended festival at the Film Forum. Even if you're unable to stop by the Forum, we think Lew's insights will deepen your appreciation of these important movies.

Dodesukaden (1970)

PLAYING February 1st at The Film Forum

This is Kurosawa's 24th film, and his first color film!

This is a brand new 35mm print!

The Criterion DVD only came out last year (2009). Previous incarnations on DVD or VHS were printed in an incorrect aspect ratio (1:66:1 as opposed to the correct 1:33:1), and the color was terrible. The new DVD is like watching a totally different film.

In addition to the previously incorrect aspect ratio, Richie inadvertently stated that there was a 240-minute version which had been cut down to 140 minutes. That was a typo -- there is no missing footage from this film.

If you read my very first post, you might remember my discussion of Asu o tsukuru hitobito (Those Who Make Tomorrow) [1946], a film which Kurosawa co-directed with two others, and which he has disowned and steadfastly refused to consider it a part of his complete works.

But even disregarding that film, there was a good chance that Kurosawa might have made 31 films, instead of 30! That additional film would have been right before this one -- of course I'm referring to the joint U.S./Japanese co-production produced by 20th Century Fox -- Tora! Tora! Tora! [1970].

XXIII. The 30 Films of Akira Kurosawa: Hachigatsu no kyoshikyoku (Rhapsody in August) [1991] (by Lewis Saul)]

Ed note:  For the next several weeks, composer and film aficionado Lewis Saul has agreed to supply us with in-depth commentary about the films of Akira Kurosawa, now showing in an extended festival at the Film Forum. Even if you're unable to stop by the Forum, we think Lew's insights will deepen your appreciation of these important movies.

Hachigatsu no kyoshikyoku (Rhapsody in August) (1991)

PLAYING February 1st at The Film Forum

This is Kurosawa's 29th, penultimate film.

Welcome to Late Kurosawa!

You won't find any samurai in this picture (although look at the photo on the box to the left -- doesn't that look like a sword in her hands!); nor any contemporary corrupt governmental officials, and there is no romance whatsoever.

But what you will find is a thoughtful (frequently completely misunderstood) film about a survivor of the Nagasaki atom bomb, her children and grandchildren and the things (like money from pineapple) that make the world go round.

Forty years had passed since the Idiot fiasco ... perhaps Kurosawa was finally willing to forgive and forget ~ or perhaps he was just desperate for a distributor -- any distributor! So for the first time since 1951, Kurosawa made a film with Shochiku. [That Toho didn't just bite the bullet and take a risk on such a relatively small-scale film ($10M) is a disgrace, in my opinion. But I don't know all the details.]

The film was financed jointly by Shochiku and Film Enterprise No. 2, an investment partnership composed of no fewer than eighteen companies!