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NPQiYBM/Ragtime
Feb. 6th, 2009 05:11 pmEven people
Who ain't too clever
Can learn to tighten
A nut forever,
Attach one pedal
Or pull one lever!
I was introduced to Ragtime, the musical, by Pandora. It doesn't even try to disguise its blatant and total manipulation of the listener's emotions. So you've got the anti-racism screeds, the stirring ballad of hope (that is crushed! by racism!), the patriotic sentiments, the patriotic sentiments crushed! Crushed! by exploitation of the workers! and so on.
And I just love it. I usually hate stuff like that, because it often doesn't make good art, and to be perfectly honest I'm not sure I would call this good art exactly, but Ragtime does have a heart, and even a soul, underneath the pontificating. Some of it is due to the performers, who are almost all incredibly awesome. Peter Friedman in particular must have his own kids, as all his songs relating to his daughter in the play are just heartbreaking (while his other songs left me relatively unmoved). Some is due to the music. The orchestration in particular is exuberant and playful-- the machine-like percussiveness of "Henry Ford" makes me smile and the brass fanfare in "Journey On" makes my heart leap a little. But the thing is-- musicals are not about lofty ideas and pageantry. They are about human connections between people. And these are the moments that I love: Tateh's compassion for another man on another ship ("May you find what you need") in "Journey On" always makes me a little sniffly, as does the interaction between the kids and parents ("What is your name?" "No name." "That's impossible! everyone has a name, even the little Negro baby who lives in our attic!" "Ssh! Edgar, do not be rude!") in "Nothing Like the City." And then there's "Henry Ford," which is just so very playful-- Ford is a man and a machine and a concept and a religion ("Hallelujah!/ Praise the maker/ Of the Model T") and a driving rhythm all rolled into one, with such musical and metrical humor (for example the above quotation, which rather loses something without the driving beat) that I always smile when I listen to it.
I don't have much to say about the book, by Doctorow, except that I find it a little drab in comparison, perhaps the only time I have ever said this about an adaptation of a book.
Of course, YMMV in spades for this kind of thing. I don't recommend it, necessarily. But I love it madly all the same.
Who ain't too clever
Can learn to tighten
A nut forever,
Attach one pedal
Or pull one lever!
I was introduced to Ragtime, the musical, by Pandora. It doesn't even try to disguise its blatant and total manipulation of the listener's emotions. So you've got the anti-racism screeds, the stirring ballad of hope (that is crushed! by racism!), the patriotic sentiments, the patriotic sentiments crushed! Crushed! by exploitation of the workers! and so on.
And I just love it. I usually hate stuff like that, because it often doesn't make good art, and to be perfectly honest I'm not sure I would call this good art exactly, but Ragtime does have a heart, and even a soul, underneath the pontificating. Some of it is due to the performers, who are almost all incredibly awesome. Peter Friedman in particular must have his own kids, as all his songs relating to his daughter in the play are just heartbreaking (while his other songs left me relatively unmoved). Some is due to the music. The orchestration in particular is exuberant and playful-- the machine-like percussiveness of "Henry Ford" makes me smile and the brass fanfare in "Journey On" makes my heart leap a little. But the thing is-- musicals are not about lofty ideas and pageantry. They are about human connections between people. And these are the moments that I love: Tateh's compassion for another man on another ship ("May you find what you need") in "Journey On" always makes me a little sniffly, as does the interaction between the kids and parents ("What is your name?" "No name." "That's impossible! everyone has a name, even the little Negro baby who lives in our attic!" "Ssh! Edgar, do not be rude!") in "Nothing Like the City." And then there's "Henry Ford," which is just so very playful-- Ford is a man and a machine and a concept and a religion ("Hallelujah!/ Praise the maker/ Of the Model T") and a driving rhythm all rolled into one, with such musical and metrical humor (for example the above quotation, which rather loses something without the driving beat) that I always smile when I listen to it.
I don't have much to say about the book, by Doctorow, except that I find it a little drab in comparison, perhaps the only time I have ever said this about an adaptation of a book.
Of course, YMMV in spades for this kind of thing. I don't recommend it, necessarily. But I love it madly all the same.
