Three short things and a long one
Jan. 9th, 2004 02:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jlhTo those in the know: That thing I was working on recently, I have put off for another year for various reasons and no, I don't want to talk about it. At all. /cryptic.
Last night I cured my downer-movie blues by seeing Calendar Girls, which is pretty much as you'd expect, and a very good time.
We Three has been posted at Restricted Section. Go in peace.
Back in November I got a spot bonus at work for services rendered. With that I purchased my ipod, several old movies on DVD, and The Complete Ella Fitzgerald Song Books. I have finally made my way through all 16 cds worth of Norman Ganz-produced investigations of "standards" by the Cole Porter, Rodgers and Hart, the Gershwins, Harold Arlen, Johnny Mercer, Irving Berlin, Duke Ellington and Jerome Kern--the sort of songs that, I think because of this collection, are now often referred to as The Great American Song Book. So this week at work, I listened to them, in chronological order (they were recorded in the late 50s and early 60s) though I admit I saved Gershwin for last.
First, the packaging, of which odes have clearly been written, and indeed, this boxed set won the grammy for packaging in 1994. Inside the box is recreated all of the original album packaging, sized to the CD, and the CDs themselves are imprinted with the inner circle label from the LPs. True, I need my glasses to read the liner notes, but it's worth it for the period feel and the retention of the original art. Plus, there is a little book about the process of making the Song Books. *loves*
Cole Porter is one of my favorite writers, and I can't think of much this Song Book leaves out. "From This Moment On" is particularly wonderful, though oddly, the only other version I was familiar with was one by the Carpenters that they used to do live. It's just Karen and Richard, and he's playing quite a baroque piano beneath her that brings a sort of frantic tension, and that plus Karen's natural slight desperation always made me think she was singing to someone tied up in her basement. However, whether Richard meant to do that or just fell into it I cannot say. Besides, we get that great verse from "I Get a Kick Out of You"--and she's not afraid to sing the cocaine line!
Why did Rodgers and Hart get two CDs? This, I admit, leaves me cold. While the impossibly young Buddy Bregman's arrangements for the Cole Porter recordings are splendid, here it feels like every song is drowned in 101 Strings. Admittedly, these songs are weaker in general, but still, I don't think I would have skipped as much if not for the treacle. I mean, "Have You Met Miss Jones?" (in which Ella changes the pronoun so she's singing have you met Sir Jones, which just sounds odd) is like, a ballad! What is that all about?
And if Rodgers and Hart do not deserve two CDs, Ellington certainly does not deserve three. There is a slapdash quality to the proceedings that, rather than sounding loose and relaxed, just comes across as careless, particularly in comparison with the rest of the project. Mostly head arrangements, with lyrics added to some songs for Ella, and on others she just scats the melody--it simply isn't as interesting. I think one problem is, the songs of all of these other composers were written primarily for stage or screen, or at the very least, to be sung. Ellington and Strayhorn were writing for his band, who were often playing for people to dance, and that is entirely different. Where she doesn't swing nearly enough on the R&H, here, it's nothing but swing and quickly grows monotonous.
The Irving Berlin disc is the first place I find myself, oddly, missing Fred Astaire at some moments. (Again with the pronoun changes--"roamin' juliet" just doesn't scan as well as "roamin' Romeo".) But the Paul Weston arrangements are fabulous, and the versions here solid, especially my favorite love song, "Let's Face the Music and Dance."
When I think of Harold Arlen, I think of Judy Garland. After all, he took her from "Over the Rainbow" in 1939 to "The Man I Love" in 1954. These are serious diva songs, and interestingly, Ella chooses not to play the diva at all. She is fabulously restrained, and backed up by Billy May's wonderfully understated arrangements. Who hasn't oversung "Come Rain or Come Shine" except Frank, and Ella?
Listening to the Jerome Kern songbook was a constant, "Oh, he wrote that too?" While I remembered Showboat ("Can't Help Loving That Man"), I had forgotten he was Dorothy Fields partner for the songs from Swing Time ("A Fine Romance", "The Way You Look Tonight"), or that he wrote "All the Things You Are." Ella sounds great, and as for the arrangements, I mean, come on. Nelson Riddle. "nuff said.
Johnny Mercer is the only lyricist to get his own disc--not that he didn't write melodies, as for "Something's Gotta Give", but he was more of a words man. Most of these songs were new to me, but I did, a few years back, get the Best of the Song Books, on which is "Midnight Sun"--a perfect song. The gorgeous vibe solo--can you tell the song was co-written by Lionel Hampton? The amazing, amazing arrangement, especially the swelling of the saxophones just before that solo, and the interspersing of the vibes throughout, thanks again to Nelson Riddle. Words and a melody line that beg to be sung. And Ella, of course, just nails it. It's the sort of song you want to live in, it's so good.
And so, the Gershwins, and their much-deserved three CDs where so much is beyond wonderful, like "But Not For Me", "Someone to Watch Over Me", "How Long Has This Been Going On". Plenty of room to stretch out, and for the Nelson Riddle Orchestra to add some instrumentals, like the "walking the dog" bit from Shall We Dance. Though, speaking of which, I miss Fred even more here. "I've Got Beginner's Luck", "He Loves and She Loves", "Funny Face", "Slap That Bass", "Fascinating Rhythm". Is it the power of film? Is it just that these songs are so rhythmic, so clearly headed for a dance number, whereas you never get a sense that anyone is dancing in the Ella versions? Is it the funny reluctance of a Gershwin love song that better suits the straightforward, even halting delivery, of an acting singer-dancer rather than a true musician? But those are preferences. "You Can't Take That Away from Me" is a crime. She runs right over the emotional climax of the song--"the way you changed my life"—not once, but twice. She zooms through it the first time, and on the reprise she dips the melody down at that point, and I feel, well, anticlimactic and let down.
But of course, I couldn't pick all these nits if the whole weren't truly superb. All these words to songs I'd heard as a child only as instrumentals! And the verses! I can see myself cutting a swath through this, learning song after song, for years and years to come.
Last night I cured my downer-movie blues by seeing Calendar Girls, which is pretty much as you'd expect, and a very good time.
We Three has been posted at Restricted Section. Go in peace.
Back in November I got a spot bonus at work for services rendered. With that I purchased my ipod, several old movies on DVD, and The Complete Ella Fitzgerald Song Books. I have finally made my way through all 16 cds worth of Norman Ganz-produced investigations of "standards" by the Cole Porter, Rodgers and Hart, the Gershwins, Harold Arlen, Johnny Mercer, Irving Berlin, Duke Ellington and Jerome Kern--the sort of songs that, I think because of this collection, are now often referred to as The Great American Song Book. So this week at work, I listened to them, in chronological order (they were recorded in the late 50s and early 60s) though I admit I saved Gershwin for last.
First, the packaging, of which odes have clearly been written, and indeed, this boxed set won the grammy for packaging in 1994. Inside the box is recreated all of the original album packaging, sized to the CD, and the CDs themselves are imprinted with the inner circle label from the LPs. True, I need my glasses to read the liner notes, but it's worth it for the period feel and the retention of the original art. Plus, there is a little book about the process of making the Song Books. *loves*
Cole Porter is one of my favorite writers, and I can't think of much this Song Book leaves out. "From This Moment On" is particularly wonderful, though oddly, the only other version I was familiar with was one by the Carpenters that they used to do live. It's just Karen and Richard, and he's playing quite a baroque piano beneath her that brings a sort of frantic tension, and that plus Karen's natural slight desperation always made me think she was singing to someone tied up in her basement. However, whether Richard meant to do that or just fell into it I cannot say. Besides, we get that great verse from "I Get a Kick Out of You"--and she's not afraid to sing the cocaine line!
Why did Rodgers and Hart get two CDs? This, I admit, leaves me cold. While the impossibly young Buddy Bregman's arrangements for the Cole Porter recordings are splendid, here it feels like every song is drowned in 101 Strings. Admittedly, these songs are weaker in general, but still, I don't think I would have skipped as much if not for the treacle. I mean, "Have You Met Miss Jones?" (in which Ella changes the pronoun so she's singing have you met Sir Jones, which just sounds odd) is like, a ballad! What is that all about?
And if Rodgers and Hart do not deserve two CDs, Ellington certainly does not deserve three. There is a slapdash quality to the proceedings that, rather than sounding loose and relaxed, just comes across as careless, particularly in comparison with the rest of the project. Mostly head arrangements, with lyrics added to some songs for Ella, and on others she just scats the melody--it simply isn't as interesting. I think one problem is, the songs of all of these other composers were written primarily for stage or screen, or at the very least, to be sung. Ellington and Strayhorn were writing for his band, who were often playing for people to dance, and that is entirely different. Where she doesn't swing nearly enough on the R&H, here, it's nothing but swing and quickly grows monotonous.
The Irving Berlin disc is the first place I find myself, oddly, missing Fred Astaire at some moments. (Again with the pronoun changes--"roamin' juliet" just doesn't scan as well as "roamin' Romeo".) But the Paul Weston arrangements are fabulous, and the versions here solid, especially my favorite love song, "Let's Face the Music and Dance."
When I think of Harold Arlen, I think of Judy Garland. After all, he took her from "Over the Rainbow" in 1939 to "The Man I Love" in 1954. These are serious diva songs, and interestingly, Ella chooses not to play the diva at all. She is fabulously restrained, and backed up by Billy May's wonderfully understated arrangements. Who hasn't oversung "Come Rain or Come Shine" except Frank, and Ella?
Listening to the Jerome Kern songbook was a constant, "Oh, he wrote that too?" While I remembered Showboat ("Can't Help Loving That Man"), I had forgotten he was Dorothy Fields partner for the songs from Swing Time ("A Fine Romance", "The Way You Look Tonight"), or that he wrote "All the Things You Are." Ella sounds great, and as for the arrangements, I mean, come on. Nelson Riddle. "nuff said.
Johnny Mercer is the only lyricist to get his own disc--not that he didn't write melodies, as for "Something's Gotta Give", but he was more of a words man. Most of these songs were new to me, but I did, a few years back, get the Best of the Song Books, on which is "Midnight Sun"--a perfect song. The gorgeous vibe solo--can you tell the song was co-written by Lionel Hampton? The amazing, amazing arrangement, especially the swelling of the saxophones just before that solo, and the interspersing of the vibes throughout, thanks again to Nelson Riddle. Words and a melody line that beg to be sung. And Ella, of course, just nails it. It's the sort of song you want to live in, it's so good.
And so, the Gershwins, and their much-deserved three CDs where so much is beyond wonderful, like "But Not For Me", "Someone to Watch Over Me", "How Long Has This Been Going On". Plenty of room to stretch out, and for the Nelson Riddle Orchestra to add some instrumentals, like the "walking the dog" bit from Shall We Dance. Though, speaking of which, I miss Fred even more here. "I've Got Beginner's Luck", "He Loves and She Loves", "Funny Face", "Slap That Bass", "Fascinating Rhythm". Is it the power of film? Is it just that these songs are so rhythmic, so clearly headed for a dance number, whereas you never get a sense that anyone is dancing in the Ella versions? Is it the funny reluctance of a Gershwin love song that better suits the straightforward, even halting delivery, of an acting singer-dancer rather than a true musician? But those are preferences. "You Can't Take That Away from Me" is a crime. She runs right over the emotional climax of the song--"the way you changed my life"—not once, but twice. She zooms through it the first time, and on the reprise she dips the melody down at that point, and I feel, well, anticlimactic and let down.
But of course, I couldn't pick all these nits if the whole weren't truly superb. All these words to songs I'd heard as a child only as instrumentals! And the verses! I can see myself cutting a swath through this, learning song after song, for years and years to come.
