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DEW DROP INN
17 June 2006
As I've written before, Baudelaire saw the world, at its best, as an inn. I see Las Vegas as a phantasmagorical rendition
of that idea into an urban space, and an urban ethos. It's also possible to see the phantasmagorical aesthetic of Las Vegas
as a radical critique of 20th Century art, 20th Century fine art, in particular, which perhaps strayed too far from the auberge.
The idea of art itself as a kind of inn is not new. In his preface to "Tom Jones", way back in the 18th Century,
Henry Fielding says that "An Author ought to consider himself, not as a Gentleman who gives a private or eleemosynary
Treat, but rather as one who keeps a public Ordinary, at which all Persons are welcome for their money." (Eleemonsyary
means charitable, and a public Ordinary is of course a public tavern -- a pub.)
The fine arts in the 20th Century, alas, out of a kind of decayed Romanticism, a puerile rebellion against Victorian forms
and an often hypocritical reaction against commercialization, became a hermtically sealed system, which the public was not
invited to enter -- popularity was considered demeaning and art itself became a specialized realm which the ordinary person
could approach only as a supplicant, in the care of priestly academic guides.
Pop art was a reaction to this insufferable piety about art -- Warhol's soup cans and Lichtentein's comic strip panels were
like inn signs welcoming the public back into the ordinary. Sadly, there were no inns attached to these signs -- they were
gestures, wonderful jokes on the art world, but behind them lay empty rooms . . . no comfort or sustenance for the weary traveler.
People used posters of them as wall decorations, but went to the movies and to rock and roll for art that had a transformative
power in their lives, that offered shelter from the storm.
Meanwhile, officially discredited Victorian forms continued to carry, unofficially, art's burden in the culture. Victorian
melodrama, 19th-Century program music and academic painting migrated into the movies in obvious but unappreciated ways --
at least by the official academic/intellectual observers of the 20th Century, who insisted on seeing film as a "modern"
art, though it was modern only in its technological means. The scenic ambitions of Victorian theater and world expositions
resurfaced in theme parks and in the megaresorts of Las Vegas.
Above is the interior of the Grand Palais in Paris, built for the Universal Exposition of 1900. Below is the interior of
the conservatory at the Bellagio in Las Vegas, built in 1998.
At the world exposition of 1900 in Paris, there was a "Paris street", which offered a minature Paris in a succession
of attractions themed as a Parisian boulevard -- Loie Fuller, the famous dancer and early film subject, had a theater in it,
a popular satiric journal sponsored a Punch and Judy show. An artificial Paris presented a sort of summary of the real city's
spirit -- a real city which lay just outside the gates of the exhibition. This is obviouslty connected conceptually to the
more ambitious rendition of Paris afforded by the Paris Las Vegas, to the Venetian, and to the Monte Carlo. It's an example
of architecture as theater, as a vehicle of narrative.
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| © 2006 Paul Kolnik |
While a self-respecting intellectual today might see the megaresorts of Las Vegas as unique and alien examples of late 20th-Century
vulgarity, a 19th-Century visitor to modern Las Vegas would feel quite at home, culturally speaking. She would immediately
recognize the megaresorts as variants of the pavillions of the sensational world expositions of her time. Most importantly,
she would recognize the feeling of being at home in the presence of art -- an art which, like the movies and rock music, like
Fielding's "public Ordinary", welcomes all for their money. Fielding's Gentlemen of art, with their private, charitable
Treats, will come back to Las Vegas eventually, offering to stand a round of drinks for the house . . . or maybe a few rounds
of drinks. They've been away a disgracefully long time, after all, and the culture has moved on quite cheerfully without
them.
BEATLEMANIA REDUX
6 June 2006
The Beatles are coming to Las Vegas again, via "Love", the new Cirque du Soleil show at the Mirage featuring
a soundtrack collage of actual Beatles recordings created by George Martin and his son. It's either going to be wonderful
or hideous, and I for one can't wait to find out which.
Meanwhile, volume two of the "The Beatles: The Capitol Albums" has just been released on CD. These are the
albums through which Americans first experienced the Beatles back in the days of vinyl. They're chopped up, chopped down
and rearranged versions of the albums the Beatles made in England, sometimes remixed, often with more echo added. When the
Beatles catalogue was released on CD, the English versions of the albums were used (albeit remixed yet again by George Martin),
leaving the Capitol versions in limbo, but now it's possible to hear them again as they were and the result is a nostalgic
trip down memory lane for Americans of a certain age as well as a fun way of hearing the music in a slightly different context
for anybody of any age.
Bruce Spizer wrote the liner notes for "The Capitol Albums Vol. 2" and as it turns out is also the author of
a series of remarkable, meticulously documented books about the Beatles recorded legacy and also of a book documenting their
first American tour.
Thomas Mann said, "Only the exhaustive is truly interesting," and by that standard, and several others, Spizer's
books are INTERESTING. Spizer is a tax lawyer in New Orleans, and he's burrowed into the intricacies of Beatles history with
all the tenacity and thoroughness of a guy used to going head to head with the IRS. The books are handsome, oversized volumes,
bound in sewn signatures and bursting with color illustrations.
The first one, documenting the Beatles' brief relationship with Vee-Jay Records, is already out of print, but can sometimes
be tracked down on the Internet. The rest -- including two exhaustive volumes documenting the Beatles on Capitol Records
-- can be found on Amazon and on Spizer's own web site, where he also sells a small booklet of liner notes on the first volume
of "The Beatles: The Capitol Albums", not included in the original box set:
Bruce Spizer's Web Site
If you're a Beatles fan, you don't really need a musical analysis of their work -- you know what you like about it. (As George
Martin famously said, "All you need is ears.") And you probably know all the sensational personal gossip by now.
What you get with Spizer is fascinating facts, many of which explode long-standing myths, a treasure trove of trivia and
a blizzard of illustrations that will either bring back the era of Beatlemania for those old enough to have lived through
it or reconstruct it, in all its surreal innocence, for those who only know the Beatles on CD.
So if you're a Beatles fan I'd advise you to snap THESE books up before they ALL go out of print.
And here's Spizer's report of a press preview of the Cirque show:
Bruce Spizer on "Love"
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