Notes on the Culture
Every Tuesday, Matthew Reed Baker will offer his thoughts on the arts and culture scene. This week: Election-day picks from the world of film, music, art, and print.
No matter how you vote today on Election Day, it’s hard not to feel proud of America and democracy right this minute, and I’m not even saying that in snarky way. I, and hundreds of my fellow Somervillians, were all late to work today voting on everything from the presidency of this great land to the local councilor to whether a dimebag of weed should go on your record.
All good things for exercising your most fundamental right as a citizen, and I was pleased to see so many showing their engagement in politics and civic affairs, if just for one day.
So in that spirit, I’ve put together a column that lets you, dear reader, continue to stay engaged while continuing to enjoy arts and culture as always. Sure, politics and the arts have often clashed across the proverbial aisle, but this all-American sampling below should prove that they can get along and be fun at the same time.
Déjà Dean: After the slog of the past two years, you’re probably not interested in more political campaigning, but grant yourself another 88 minutes this Saturday at the Somewhat North of Boston (SNOB) Film Festival in Concord, New Hampshire.
Not only will you be in the Land of the First Primary, but you’ll be watching a promising film called Dean and Me: Roadshow of an American Primary, directed and co-produced by a Vermonter named Heath Eiden, who sold 16 acres of his farmland to finance it.
The film follows Howard Dean, the erstwhile Green Mountain governor, and his 2004 presidential campaign throughout the country, up through his infamous scream that ended his hopes of being the Democratic nominee.
While also featuring interviews with the likes of Hillary Clinton, Tucker Carlson, and Ted Kennedy, this on-the-road film documents how political momentum can skyrocket, then plummet just as fast. On that level, it should be equally interesting to all you Huckabee stalwarts out there.
Dean and Me: Roadshow of an American Primary shows at the Somewhat North of Boston (SNOB) Film Festival at 8 p.m., Saturday, November 8, and the screening will include a Q&A with Heath Eiden.
Danse politique de Mme. Graham: We always think of Martha Graham as being one of the revolutionary artists of the 20th century, but not so much in a political sense—she’s one of the cornerstones of modern art, but without the propagandistic baggage of, say, Sergei Eisenstein. However, in 1936, she did create an important political piece called Chronicle, with the overwhelming sadness of its movements meant to express the Great Depression and the Spanish Civil War.
With our current financial troubles, wars on two fronts, and a new president waiting in the wings, now seems a good time to see part of Chronicle, and the Boston Conservatory Dance Theater is happy to oblige this weekend. They’ll be performing a movement from this dance, called “Steps in the Streets,” as well as three premieres by current and former Boston Conservatory choreographers.
Performances will be at the Boston Conservatory Theater from November 6-8 at 8 p.m., with a 2 p.m. matinee on November 9.
American classical: If you’re more inclined to feel America course through your brainpan in a visceral way, then look no further than our country’s two most popular native music forms. While I’m a huge jazz fan, I yield to gospel and country as the more accessible forms for reaching the heartland and urbanias of all 50 states, and the past few weeks have seen two landmark live albums that best express our civic virtues.
Originally recorded and released in 1968, Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison is one of the world’s greatest live recordings. Some think Cash’s San Quentin album is even better musically, but this album came first and bears an electric urgency. Slashing through songs like “Folsom Prison Blues,” “Cocaine Blues,” “25 Minutes to Go,” Cash had a deeply serious agenda: to show his inmate audience that he understood them, that they still had humanity, and that they were still part of the larger American landscape.
Last month, Columbia/Legacy achieved that rare feat of a expert box set with this album, packaging together two CDs (one for each live set that day) and a DVD documentary about the history of the concert and its aftermath. All of it is unmissable.
Considering how long she’s been recording and that she’s now as canonical a gospel singer as Mahalia Jackson, it’s astonishing to think that Mavis Staples is still out there performing and putting out records. But lo, there she is, and today marks the release of Live: Hope at the Hideout, recorded in Chicago this summer.
At age 69, she can’t quite belt the treble like she used to, but the deep soul is everpresent in this collection of Civil Rights-era tunes like “Eyes on the Prize,” “Freedom Highway,” and “We Shall Not Be Moved.” The music will make you want to see her live, though you’ll have to wait until February, when she’s scheduled to play Bryant University in Rhode Island.
Wasilla wonder: Okay, so full disclosure here: I’m about to promote a good friend of mine, Cambridge filmmaker Jeff Stern. Stern just produced a 10-minute silent black-and-white short called The Thrilla in Wasilla, about how Sarah and Todd Palin have kidnapped the Future of America (as played by a 13-year-old boy) and it’s up to the Democratic ticket and the Clintons to save the day. It’s fantastical, it’s goofy, it’s surprisingly bipartisan at the end, and it features real lady wrestlers.
Best of all, it reminds me of one of Guy Maddin’s short films, with its quirky music and intertitles and an otherworldly antique aesthetic. If you enjoyed Maddin’s The Saddest Music in the World when it came out a couple years ago, and if you’d like to see that weirdness applied to the weirdness of the 2008 presidential race…well, then, here you go.
The Thrilla in Wasilla can be seen at thegoodoldfuture.com or on YouTube.
Winter/summer reading: Lastly, I can’t think of a better political book to recommend at this time than Richard Ben Cramer’s What It Takes, the exhaustive account of the presidential race that took place 20 years ago.
The book came out a long time ago, but the title itself reveals what makes it worth reading anytime: It literally tells you what it takes inside a person to think that he or she can and should be president, as well as what it takes to grind through an endless campaign to actually get there.
Though the focus obviously ends up on the elder George Bush and our own Michael Dukakis, along the way we are given deeply personal and warty biographies of a whole host of characters, from Bob Dole to one Joe Biden. It’s engrossing and makes you see the whole process differently, and at more than 1000 small-type pages, it’ll last you ’til the next campaign cycle.
