Two love songs -- art or not art?

A recent cartoon depicted a caveman proudly showing off his "cave art" which illustrated himself, with spear in hand, pursuing a huge mammoth. Off to the side was one woman whispering to another: "Artistic license .... it really was a rabbit he was chasing."

A pair of questions arise there, one obviously about artistic license and the other somewhat imperceptible, what makes art art? Books / paintings / music and a bevy of other endeavors are subject to the question of what is art and what is not -- and, easily might become a matter of rabid debate.

The painting, by the way, is an 1882 oil on canvas entitled, "Beethoven's Vision," by Austrian painter Rudolf Hausleithner. There are individuals who, I would wager, never have heard of Ludwig van Beethoven. If any of those are reading this and are curious, I will be content to allow them to do their own "research."

"O Mio Babbino Caro" vs. "In the Evening"

Objective: Not influenced by personal feelings or opinions in considering and representing facts.

Subjective: Based on or influenced by personal feelings, tastes or opinions.

Art: The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.

Those are definitions of those three words as found in the Oxford English and Spanish Dictionary.

When I was a college boy, I ran across a characterization for art as defined by the Old Greeks. Simply, "art is the creation of beauty." Realizing that no matter how objective we think we are, most of us become more and more subjective the older we become and the more experience we gather. The Old Greek definition was good for me back then and continues to be today -- mostly subjective creature that I am ....

As often is said, "One individual's fantasy is another individual's reality" and "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." Moving the same propositions to the world of art forms the question of who has the ability and the authority to say what art is and what is not?

I am rather judgmental and opinionated about many things, including what is art and what is not, and freely admit it. I also like to argue about it .... whoops,  I mean I like to discuss it ....

Here are two pieces of music about love for illustrative purposes and, hopefully, discussion.:

"O Mio Babbino Caro / Oh my dear papa" is a soprano aria from the 1918 opera "Gianni Schicchi" by Giacomo Puccini  and sung here in traditional Italian by Anna Netrebko ....

"In the Evening" is a piece composed by John Paul Jones and Jimmy Page and  Robert Plant for their rock band Led Zeppelin. It is performed here by Page and Plant and a host of accomplices (hmmmm .... accompanists, including an Egyptian orchestra) in Detroit in 1995 ....

Is one art and the other not? If so, why or why not? Are both art? Or neither? I am not posing these questions to be mean, but out of plain and simple curiosity. Musical distinctions often appear to stem from class distinctions and since social dissimilarities are supposedly fading into nonexistence, I am genuinely curious to learn why we think what we think.

Somehow, this seems like a good time for me to excuse myself for a day or two or three .... later, baby ....

Recognize anyone? Me, neither ....

It is amazing to me how some occasions are faithfully remembered and devotedly observed while others are sort of recognized on a hit and miss basis. This year, for instance, I have seen few references to the anniversary of the D-Day invasion of France at Normandy by 156,000 Allied troops from 13 countries on June 6, 1944. This is a photograph of a few of the nearly 8,000 airborne troopers who were inserted behind German lines displaying a trophy of their feat. I wonder how many of these guys survived the war ....

Another example of fleeting fame is Minnesota writer Sinclair Lewis, the first American to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. It came in 1930. Lewis and another Minnesota writer, Diane Wilson, were featured in a post here on April 19. Saint Paul Pioneer Press journalist Mary Ann Grossmann has a follow-up piece in the newspaper today about Lewis and an exhibition at the Minnesota Historical Society. The exhibit centers upon the 100-year-anniversary of the publication of "Main Street" -- the premiere Lewis novel.

Lewis was ahead of his time, Grossman notes, writing about topics such as divorce, adultery and abortion:

"In 'Main Street,' Carol Milford moves from the city to a tiny Gopher Prairie (Sauk Centre) after marrying the local doctor. She tries to bring culture to the small town, but is met by gossip, greed, conventionality and the bigotry of small-town minds."

Lewis spent his last years in Europe, Grossman writes, often drunk, having alienated most of his friends. It was 22 degrees below zero the day of his funeral at a "Main Street" cemetery and his ashes scattered there.

Gratias ago tibi, maiorum meus

And all that is left of her soldier boy true,

Are his sword and his cap and the red, white and blue.

If you are able to read them, those are the words on the front of this post card. On the back, this is handwritten. "May Happiness Be Thine."  There is no stamp, so the card cannot have been mailed. In the address area, all that has been written are these words: "To 5378. From 4315." Nothing else about the card is known, but it has the appearance of originating sometime between the 1880s and the World War I era. I would hazard a guess that the flag has 48 stars, which would place it between 1912 and 1959, so probably the first world war period is the most likely. If it were not for the presence of the word "boy," I would speculate that the woman is a grieving wife. But, the word "boy" might place it in the context of a mother mourning a lost son.

A day to remember & to honor

I have noted Memorial Day a few times here before, and do so again today wondering what I can say that I have not said in an earlier post.

I suppose all I can say is that I hope everyone will reach into their inner-most feelings to offer a sincere and a heart-felt thank you to each and every individual who has worn a uniform in defense of their country and a prayer for those whose lives were lost.

There are two film presentations here. One can accurately be described as an emblematic Memorial Day offering. It is commentary by James Mattis, a retired four-star, Marine Corps general and one time Secretary of Defense, and includes words from poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

Semper Fidelis, Chaos ....

The poem, "Dulce et Decorum Est," by Wilfred Owen is here, as well, read by Tom O'Bedlam. The poem centers upon a chlorine gas attack during the "War to End All Wars." The title of the poem came from Ode 3.2 of the Roman poet Horace and the closing lines, "Dulce et decorum est  /  Pro patria mori," which translate to this: "It is sweet and honorable to die for the fatherland." Owen was killed in action on November 4, 1918, during the crossing of the Sambre–Oise Canal a week before the signing of the Armistice which ended the war.

Make of the poem what you will ....

Over the years, Memorial Day has evolved so that it also has become a time for remembering departed family members and ancestors, as well as for honoring members of the armed forces who demonstrated "freedom is not free." As you read this, I will be about 150 miles from my "camp" putting flowers on a few graves and thanking the occupants for being part of the chain which brought me into the world.

Gratias ago tibi, maiorum meus ....

"Someday baby, you'll be blue ...."

      

Bobby Vee and Dion DiMucci and Eddie Cochran were among the early stars of rock 'n' roll ....

  

The early rockin' years

Where were you on February 3, 1959?

Cannot remember?

Were not born yet?

Never mind. I am not telling, either. I simply always have wanted to start a post like that and figured this is a good opportunity.

According to rock 'n' roll mythology, that is "the day the music died." It was the day Buddy Holly (Charles Hardin Holley) and Ritchie Valens (Richard Steven Valenzuela) and The Big Bopper (Jiles Perry "J.P." Richardson Jr.), were killed in an airplane crash after performing at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa, the evening before.

The musicians were in the midst of their "Winter Dance Party Tour," which included stops in places like Mankato and Duluth and Montevideo and Saint Paul, all in Minnesota, as well as a number of other Midwestern "ballrooms." Ordinarily in those days tour transportation was by bus, but for various reasons that night, Holly and the others were en route by flying for the next concert stop in Moorhead, Minnesota.

They never made it. They died in an Iowa cornfield.

Lesser known about that tale is the fact that another musician's success story began with the death of Holly and the others.

Robert Thomas Velline, a 15-year-old high school student from Fargo, North Dakota, who became professionally known as Bobby Vee, was one of the musicians who filled in for the missing performers at the Moorhead concert. Vee and a band composed of Fargo schoolboys calling themselves the Shadows answered a request for musicians to play in place of those killed in the Iowa crash. The group filled in for Holly and his band. Their performance was a success and started Vee's career as a popular singer/song writer.

Some of Vee's notable songs are "Suzie Baby" / "Devil or Angel" / "Rubber Ball"  / "Take Good Care of My Baby" /  "The Night Has a Thousand Eyes" ....

Another significant name in the world of rock was on the tour. Singer/song writer Dion Francis DiMucci had chosen not to travel on the plane which crashed, and did perform. Dion still makes music, and my assumption is most "elders" of the rock community have heard any number of his songs and probably danced to "Runaround Sue."

All this stuff evolved from having stumbled onto Bobby Dylan singing "Suzie Baby," one of Vee's most popular songs, on a video from a concert in Saint Paul a couple of years ago. Vee was among those in the audience. In 1959, while Dylan still was Robert Zimmerman, he performed twice with Vee as the piano man using the name Elston Gunnn. Incidentally, my opinion is that Dylan's rendition of "Suzie" is the worst cover I ever/ever/ever have heard. Simply pathetic ....

The question popped into my mind: Is Bobby Vee still alive? The answer is no, he is not.

Vee continued performing live until 2011 when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. His final recordings were released in 2014. He underwent treatment for Alzheimer's in a long-term care facility in Rogers, Minnesota, near Minneapolis. He died from complications of the disease at age 73 on October 24, 2016.

So, just for fun and a feel for some "old time rock 'n' roll," here is Bobby Vee singing his song, "Suzie Baby," and a taste of New Yorker Dion with "Runaround Sue." Another rock star born and raised in this neck of the woods was Ray Edward "Eddie" Cochran, originally from Albert Lea, Minnesota. Present, too, is Cochran singing, "Long Tall Sally." Cochran was killed at age 21 on April 17, 1960, in a single-vehicle accident in England just as his career was beginning to blossom.

By the way, Suzie baby .... where are you?

Today is the day ....

Since I have not been in a "mood for creativity" for some time now, I decided to utilize the work of others to take note of Mother's Day in the United States and several other countries. The illustration is a painting by Claude Monet, one of my "favored," and shows his wife, Camille Doncieux Monet, and their son, Jean. The piece is entitled "Woman with a Parasol" and was done in 1875. Also included is a poem by Carl Sandburg. It is the third of three published in 1916 in "Poems Done on a Late Night Car" under the title of "Home." Finally, there are two videos, the first written by John Lennon about his mother, Julia, and the second composed by James Coats in 1942 and performed here by Dolly Parton / Linda Ronstadt / Emmylou Harris. It is called "The Sweetest Gift" -- with the gift, of course, a mother's smile for her child. My own mother departed in 2012 and I miss her and appreciate her more with each passing year. I do not think of myself as having been a very good son, but I did make it a point to call her each and every mother's day even when I was far/far away .... there should be a message in those words, and today is the day ....

"Poems Done on a Late Night Car .. Home" by Carl Sandburg

Here is a thing my heart wishes the world had more of:

I heard it in the air of one night when I listened 

To a mother singing softly to a child 

restless and angry in the darkness.