Bruce Springsteen Exhibition Held in Philadelphia; It’s Now Official, The Boss is an American Icon

It’s offi­cial. Bruce Spring­steen has gone from musi­cian to Amer­i­can icon, join­ing the likes of Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. Want some proof of his tran­scen­dence? Just look to Philadel­phia where The Nation­al Con­sti­tu­tion Cen­ter is hold­ing the first major exhi­bi­tion about the Amer­i­can song­writer. From Asbury Park to the Promised Land: The Life and Music of Bruce Spring­steen takes a com­pre­hen­sive look at Spring­steen’s body of musi­cal work with the help of 15o arti­facts. Ask why a Spring­steen exhib­it deserves to be held in The Nation­al Con­sti­tu­tion Cen­ter, and its CEO/President David Eis­ner will tell you that the “Con­sti­tu­tion Cen­ter is about the val­ues [e.g. free­dom & equal­i­ty] and dreams on which Amer­i­ca was based, and Spring­steen’s music is all about achiev­ing the Amer­i­can Dream.” What’s more, Spring­steen’s music touch­es on deeply Amer­i­can polit­i­cal issues, includ­ing the First Amend­ment.

The exhi­bi­tion runs through Sep­tem­ber 3rd (tick­ets avail­able here), and every Fri­day the Con­sti­tu­tion Cen­ter plans to pub­lish on its blog arti­cles inspired by Bruce Spring­steen and the First Amend­ment.

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Martin Scorsese Captures Levon Helm and The Band Performing “The Weight” in The Last Waltz


Born in Arkansas in 1940, Lev­on Helm grew up lis­ten­ing Elvis Pres­ley, Lit­tle Richard, John­ny Cash and Jer­ry Lee Lewis. By the 1960s, he began putting his per­son­al stamp on rock ’n’ roll. Dur­ing those years, Helm and gui­tarist Rob­bie Robert­son joined Bob Dylan’s ever-so-con­tro­ver­sial elec­tric band and played togeth­er dur­ing the infa­mous­ly tumul­tuous 1966 tour. Then, Helm and Robert­son decid­ed to form their own band — The Band. Robert­son wrote or co-wrote most of their songs, while Helm often gave voice to them. And so things went until they did­n’t.

In 1976, The Band broke up, but not before they played an epic final con­cert that Mar­tin Scors­ese doc­u­ment­ed for pos­ter­i­ty in his film, The Last Waltz. Decades lat­er, many crit­ics con­sid­er it “the great­est rock con­cert movie ever made.” And although the film con­sist­ed most­ly of live footage from their farewell con­cert in San Fran­cis­co, Scors­ese filmed one of The Band’s mem­o­rable songs, “The Weight,” on an MGM sound­stage. You can find the per­for­mance above, and Lev­on Helm singing soul­ful­ly on drums. The scene also fea­tures a guest appear­ance by Mavis Sta­ples, along with her father and sis­ters in The Sta­ple Singers.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Jean-Luc Godard Films The Rolling Stones Record­ing “Sym­pa­thy for the Dev­il” (1968)

Mar­tin Scorsese’s Very First Films: Three Imag­i­na­tive Short Works

Roger McGuinn, Frontman of The Byrds, Curates Folk Den, Lets You Download Free Folk Music

Roger McGuinn of the Byrds was one of the most influ­en­tial singers and gui­tarists of the 1960s. Although his own influ­ences range from Ravi Shankar to John Coltrane, McGuin­n’s roots are in folk music. The Byrds were among the first to fuse folk with rock and roll. “I’ve always con­sid­ered myself a folksinger,” McGuinn told Neal Conan this week on NPR’s Talk of the Nation, “even though we strapped on Rick­en­backer gui­tars and played pret­ty loud. But I was a folksinger at heart because we always loved folk music. I loved the melodies and the sto­ries.”

In the mid 1990s McGuinn was lis­ten­ing to a Smith­son­ian Folk­ways record when it occurred to him that he was­n’t hear­ing tra­di­tion­al songs played any­more, even in folk clubs. “So I thought, ‘What’s going to hap­pen when Odet­ta dies?’ Well, as you know, she just passed away. And Pete Seeger’s, what, he’s 92, 93. He’s get­ting up there. So I thought I’d do some­thing about it.”

McGuinn had always been an ear­ly adopter of new tech­nolo­gies. He owned a mobile tele­phone in the ear­ly 1970s and bought his first per­son­al com­put­er in 1981. So in 1995 he got the idea of estab­lish­ing Folk Den, a web­site ded­i­cat­ed to pre­serv­ing the tra­di­tion­al folk music that he loves. On the first day of each month, McGuinn posts a new song.  There are now almost 200 MP3 files online, avail­able for free down­load. In some of the record­ings McGuinn is joined by his wife, Camil­la. To get the fla­vor of what’s avail­able, here are three quick exam­ples:

But you real­ly must vis­it the Folk Den Web site, which includes lyrics, chords, visu­al mate­r­i­al and a lit­tle intro­duc­tion to each song writ­ten by McGuinn. And to hear McGuin­n’s Talk of the Nation inter­view, which includes musi­cal per­for­mances, vis­it the NPR Web site.

John Cage Unbound: A New Digital Archive Presented by The New York Public Library

John Cage enthu­si­asts have sure­ly rejoiced at the New York Pub­lic Library’s open­ing of John Cage Unbound: A Liv­ing Archive, which offers vis­i­tors a chance to expe­ri­ence how the unique­ly inno­v­a­tive com­poser’s life and work con­tin­ue to affect the per­for­mance of music today. But if you don’t hap­pen to live in New York, no need to book a trip; you can browse the archive online when­ev­er and from wher­ev­er you please. One won­ders what Cage, who died the year before the debut of the World Wide Web as we know it, would have made of all the artis­tic inven­tion, son­ic and oth­er­wise, that the inter­net has enabled. I like to think he’d gaze with great fas­ci­na­tion at this site’s con­tin­u­al­ly updat­ed col­lec­tion of not only vin­tage John Cage footage — him play­ing ampli­fied cac­ti and plant mate­ri­als with a feath­er with Take­hisa Kosu­gi, him speak­ing in 1978 — but recent mate­r­i­al as well, such as Paul Schuet­te’s inter­pre­ta­tion of the piece “Water Walk,” and The Anta Project per­form­ing Cage’s famous “4’33”,” the piece that involves no play­ing, at the U.S.-Mexico bor­der.

Bridg­ing the gap between the old and the new, the video above col­lects per­son­al impres­sions of John Cage from those who par­tic­i­pat­ed in his 1970 per­for­mance at Carlisle, Penn­syl­va­ni­a’s Dick­in­son Col­lege. “Intense, obser­vant, focused,” says the col­lege’s Pres­i­dent William Dur­den. “Not nec­es­sar­i­ly a per­son who took up space, but a per­son who real­ly… chis­eled space.” Think­ing about the nature of the con­cert, Joe Sobel, a musi­cian who built an instru­ment out of junked car horns espe­cial­ly for it, remem­bers that “if you approached it in a dour, seri­ous way, you weren’t going to be able to make any sense of it. In order to enjoy it, you had to be open and will­ing to get the joke.” He could say the same about every­thing John Cage ever did. Hear­ing these reflec­tions and then, lat­er in the video, see­ing a group of Dick­in­son stu­dents grap­ple with putting on Cage’s “Radio Music” — a piece played not with tra­di­tion­al instru­ments, but lit­er­al radios — even view­ers who aren’t yet John Cage enthu­si­asts may find them­selves intrigued. Spend­ing an evening at John Cage Unbound will get them up to speed on the com­poser’s endur­ing rel­e­vance; pair it with a read­ing of Cage’s famous book/manifesto Silence, and you’ll nev­er think about music in quite the same way again.

Relat­ed con­tent:

John Cage Per­forms Water Walk on “I’ve Got a Secret” (1960)

The Con­tro­ver­sial Sounds of Silence: John Cage’s 4’33″ Per­formed by the BBC Sym­pho­ny Orches­tra

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall

‘The Ballad of the Skeletons’: Allen Ginsberg’s 1996 Collaboration with Philip Glass and Paul McCartney

Allen Gins­berg was an unlike­ly MTV star. In late 1996 the Beat poet was 70 years old and in declin­ing health. He had less than a year to live. But Gins­berg man­aged to stay cul­tur­al­ly and polit­i­cal­ly rel­e­vant, right up to the end. His last major project was a col­lab­o­ra­tion with Paul McCart­ney and Philip Glass, among oth­ers, on a musi­cal adap­ta­tion of his poem, “The Bal­lad of the Skele­tons.”

The poem was first pub­lished in 1995. The Amer­i­can polit­i­cal cli­mate from which it arose bears a strik­ing resem­blance to the one we’re liv­ing in today. “I start­ed it,” Gins­berg told Har­vey Kubernik of The Los Ange­les Times in 1996, “because [of] all that inflat­ed bull about the fam­i­ly val­ues, the ‘con­tract with Amer­i­ca,’ Newt Gin­grich and all the loud­mouth stuff on talk radio, and Rush Lim­baugh and all those oth­er guys. It seemed obnox­ious and stu­pid and kind of sub-con­tra­dic­to­ry, so I fig­ured I’d write a poem to knock it out of the ring.”

The skele­tal imagery was inspired by the Mex­i­can hol­i­day, the Day of the Dead, and takes a play­ful poke at the van­i­ty of human desires. “It’s an old trick,” Gins­berg told Steve Sil­ber­man in a 1996 inter­view for HotWired, “to dress up arche­typ­al char­ac­ters as skele­tons: the bish­op, the Pope, the Pres­i­dent, the police chief. There’s a Mex­i­can painter–Posa­da–who does exact­ly that.”

In Octo­ber of 1995, Gins­berg vis­it­ed Paul McCart­ney and his fam­i­ly at their home in Eng­land. He recit­ed “The Bal­lad of the Skele­tons while one of McCart­ney’s daugh­ters filmed it. As Gins­berg recalled to Sil­ber­man, he men­tioned that he had to give a read­ing with Anne Wald­man and oth­er poets at the Roy­al Albert Hall, and was look­ing for a gui­tarist to accom­pa­ny him. “Why don’t you try me,” McCart­ney said. “I love the poem.” Gins­berg con­tin­ued the sto­ry:

He showed up at 5 p.m. for the sound check, and he bought a box for his fam­i­ly. Got all his kids togeth­er, four of them, and his wife, and he sat through the whole evening of poet­ry, and we did­n’t say who my accom­pa­nist was going to be. We intro­duced him at the end of the evening, and then the roar went up on the floor of the Albert Hall, and we knocked out the song. He said if I ever got around to record­ing it, let him know. So he vol­un­teered, and we made a basic track, and sent it to him, on 24 tracks, and he added mara­cas and drums, which it need­ed. It gave it a skele­ton, gave it a shape. And also organ, he was try­ing to get that effect of Al Koop­er on the ear­ly Dylan. And gui­tar, so he put a lot of work in on that. And then we got it back just in time for Philip Glass to fill in his arpeg­gios on piano.

The record­ing was pro­duced by Lenny Kaye, gui­tarist for the Pat­ti Smith Group, who had put togeth­er a group of musi­cians for a per­for­mance of the song at a Tibet House ben­e­fit in April of 1996. One mem­ber of the audi­ence that night was Dan­ny Gold­berg, pres­i­dent of Mer­cury Records and a fan of Gins­berg. He invit­ed the poet to record the song, and it all came togeth­er quick­ly. In a 1997 arti­cle in Tikkun, Gold­berg remem­bered Gins­berg’s gid­di­ness over the project: “He loved that Paul McCart­ney had over­dubbed drums on ‘Skele­tons.’ He said, ‘It’s the clos­est I’m going to ever come to being in the Bea­t­les,’ and gig­gled like a teenag­er.”

The record­ing fea­tures Gins­berg on vocals, Glass on key­boards, McCart­ney on gui­tar, drums, Ham­mond organ and mara­cas, Kaye on bass, Marc Ribot on gui­tar and David Mans­field on Gui­tar. Mer­cury released the song as a CD sin­gle in two ver­sions, includ­ing one with the lan­guage san­i­tized for radio and tele­vi­sion. The “B side” was a record­ing of Gins­berg’s “New Stan­zas for Amaz­ing Grace that did not include McCart­ney or Glass. The next step was to cre­ate a video. As Gold­berg recalled, Gins­berg knew an oppor­tu­ni­ty when he saw one:

When Tom Fre­ston, the CEO of MTV, bought five of Allen’s pho­tos, Gins­berg prompt­ly called me, not too sub­tly imply­ing that if Mer­cury would fund pro­duc­tion of a video, we might be able to get on MTV. Allen had an unerr­ing instinct of how to mobi­lize his mys­tique for those who were inter­est­ed. He regaled Fre­ston with sto­ries of the beat­niks one night at our house, which made it almost impos­si­ble for MTV to reject his video despite the fact that he was decades old­er than typ­i­cal MTV artists and audi­ence mem­bers. A polit­i­cal satire of both gen­er­a­tions, “Skele­tons” received high­ly pubi­cized and much-cov­et­ed “buzz bin” rota­tion on MTV in the weeks before the last election–to the con­ster­na­tion of oth­er record com­pa­nies who were sub­mit­ting artists with more con­ven­tion­al cre­den­tials. This made Allen the only sev­en­ty-year-old besides Tony Ben­nett to ever be played on MTV.

The video was direct­ed by Gus Van Sant, who had ties to sur­viv­ing mem­bers of the Beat gen­er­a­tion. Van Sant had direct­ed William S. Bur­roughs in the film Drug­store Cow­boy, and had made short films–Thanks­giv­ing Prayer and The Dis­ci­pline of DE– based on writ­ing by Bur­roughs. Gins­berg was hap­py with Van San­t’s work, despite a tight film­ing bud­get. “It’s a great col­lage,” Gins­berg told Sil­ber­man. “He went back to old Pathé, Satan skele­tons, and mixed them up with Rush Lim­baugh, and Dole, and the local politi­cians, Newt Gin­grich, and the Pres­i­dent. And mixed those up with the atom bomb, when I talk about the elec­tric chair– ‘Hey, what’s cookin?’–you got Satan set­ting off an atom bomb, and I’m trem­bling with a USA hat on, the Uncle Sam hat on. So it’s quite a pro­duc­tion, it’s fun.”

via @WFMU

Watch the German Expressionist Film, The Golem, with a Soundtrack by The Pixies’ Black Francis

As cin­e­mat­i­cal­ly savvy Open Cul­ture read­ers know, most films of the silent era have fall­en into the pub­lic domain, mak­ing them easy to watch on the inter­net. Sev­er­al of the choic­est have found their way into our col­lec­tion of Free Movies Online. Any­one with an inter­net con­nec­tion can thus give them­selves an ear­ly-film edu­ca­tion that would have been unthink­ably con­ve­nient just twen­ty years ago, but the oppor­tu­ni­ties stretch out even fur­ther than that. Cer­tain enter­pris­ing musi­cians have seized the oppor­tu­ni­ty to re-score these freely avail­able silents, revi­tal­iz­ing the era’s clunk­ers and mas­ter­pieces alike with son­ic styles that the com­posers of those days could nev­er have even imag­ined. Above, you’ll find one of Weimar Ger­many’s finest expres­sion­ist films, The Golem: How He Came Into the World, brought to life like the clay stat­ue of its title by a dri­ving, jan­gling, rock-oper­at­ic score cour­tesy of one Black Fran­cis.

If you’re unfa­mil­iar, Black Fran­cis, also know as Frank Black, fronts the rock band the Pix­ies. If you’re unfa­mil­iar with them, you prob­a­bly don’t tend to admit it in mixed com­pa­ny, since the com­bi­na­tion of their star­tling­ly wide­spread influ­ence (Kurt Cobain called “Smells Like Teen Spir­it” an attempt to “rip off the Pix­ies”) and endur­ing avoid­ance of the main­stream has earned them enor­mous rock-enthu­si­ast cred­i­bil­i­ty. Film geeks, for their part, prob­a­bly won’t give you a hard time about not hav­ing seen Paul Wegen­er’s the Golem tril­o­gy, since two of the three have been lost. Though it came out in 1920 as the third Golem film, How He Came Into the World, a pre­quel to both its pre­de­ces­sors, tells the ori­gin sto­ry of its title crea­ture of Jew­ish leg­end. Cre­at­ed to pro­tect the Cho­sen Peo­ple of 16th-cen­tu­ry Prague, the mute inhu­man colos­sus soon turns against his mak­ers. Watch what hap­pens, in a cul­tur­al three-for-one to begin your week, with cin­e­matog­ra­ph­er Karl Fre­und’s manip­u­la­tion of shad­ow and light (which he lat­er showed off in Metrop­o­lis and Drac­u­la), Black Fran­cis’ casu­al­ly com­plex rock mag­pie-ism, and the dis­tinc­tive sto­ry­telling sen­si­bil­i­ty that pro­duced the golem fable in the first place. (It’s avail­able on DVD here.)

The Golem, fea­tur­ing a sound­track by Black Fran­cis, has been added to our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed con­tent:

Fritz Lang’s Metrop­o­lis: Uncut & Restored

Lost Films: Iden­ti­fy Miss­ing Cin­e­ma Through Crowd­sourc­ing

The Pow­er of Silent Movies, with The Artist Direc­tor Michel Haz­anavi­cius

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Paul McCartney Shoots New Music Video with Natalie Portman and Johnny Depp

Paul McCart­ney gave his new album, Kiss­es on the Bot­tom, a lit­tle plug last night when he pre­miered in L.A. a “self-direct­ed video” for his new song, ‘My Valen­tine’. Shot on a 35mm cam­era by Oscar-win­ning cin­e­matog­ra­ph­er Wal­ly Pfis­ter (Memen­to, Incep­tion, etc.), the black & white video fea­tures Natal­ie Port­man and John­ny Depp “each trans­lat­ing the lyrics of the song into sign lan­guage…”  and John­ny play­ing some solos on the gui­tar. Sir Paul shot the two stars sep­a­rate­ly (watch below) before bring­ing them togeth­er into his final clip. McCart­ney’s web site has more details on the film.

Natal­ie Port­man

John­ny Depp

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‘The Sound of Miles Davis’: Classic 1959 Performance with John Coltrane

Here’s an amaz­ing time cap­sule from the gold­en age of jazz: Miles Davis and his group–including John Coltrane–performing with the Gil Evans Orches­tra on the CBS pro­gram, The Robert Her­ridge The­ater.

The show was record­ed on April 2, 1959 at Stu­dio 61 in New York. It was a bold depar­ture for The Robert Her­ridge The­ater, a pro­gram nor­mal­ly devot­ed to the dra­mat­ic sto­ry-telling arts. Davis was slat­ed to appear with his full sex­tet, but alto sax­o­phon­ist Julian “Can­non­ball” Adder­ley had a migraine headache that day, accord­ing to the Miles Ahead Web site, so the group was pared down to a quin­tet, with Davis on trum­pet and flugel­horn, Coltrane on tenor and alto sax­o­phone, Wyn­ton Kel­ly on piano, Paul Cham­bers on bass and Jim­my Cobb on drums.

The broad­cast took place halfway through the record­ing of Davis’s land­mark album, Kind of Blue. The 26-minute show (see above) opens with the clas­sic “So What,” record­ed only a month ear­li­er. Davis solos twice on the song to fill in for Adder­ley. The group is then joined by Gil Evans and his orches­tra. Togeth­er they play three num­bers from Davis’s 1957 album, Miles Ahead. Here’s the set list:

  1. So What
  2. The Duke
  3. Blues for Pablo
  4. New Rhum­ba
  5. So What (reprise)

“There are many ways of telling a sto­ry,” says host and pro­duc­er Robert Her­ridge. “What you’re lis­ten­ing to now, the music of Miles Davis, is one of those ways.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Thelo­nious Monk, Bill Evans and More on the Clas­sic Jazz 625 Show

1959: The Year that Changed Jazz

Clas­sic Jazz Album Cov­ers Ani­mat­ed, or the Re-Birth of Cool

The Uni­ver­sal Mind of Bill Evans: Advice on Learn­ing to Play Jazz & The Cre­ative Process

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