Search Results for "forma"

How the First Rock Concert Ended in Mayhem (Cleveland, 1952)

“Amer­i­ca has only three cities: New York, San Fran­cis­co, and New Orleans. Every­where else is Cleve­land.” That obser­va­tion tends to be attrib­uted to Ten­nessee Williams, though it’s become some­what detached from its source, so deeply does it res­onate with a cer­tain expe­ri­ence of life in the Unit­ed States. But con­sid­er this: can every Amer­i­can city claim to be where rock and roll began — or at least the site of the very first rock and roll con­cert? Cleve­land can, thanks to Alan Freed, a famous radio announc­er of the nine­teen-for­ties and fifties. The Moon­dog Coro­na­tion Ball he orga­nized in 1952 may have end­ed in dis­as­ter, but it began a pop-cul­tur­al era that arguably con­tin­ues to this day.

Hav­ing attained pop­u­lar­i­ty announc­ing in a vari­ety of radio for­mats, includ­ing jazz and clas­si­cal music, Freed was awak­ened to the pos­si­bil­i­ty of what was then known as rhythm and blues by a local record-store own­er, Leo Mintz. It was with Mintz’s spon­sor­ship that Freed launched a pro­gram on Cleve­land’s WJW-AM, for which he cul­ti­vat­ed a hep­cat per­sona called “Moon­dog.” (Some cred­it the name to an album by Rob­by Vee and The Vees, and oth­ers to the avant-garde street musi­cian Moon­dog and his epony­mous “sym­pho­ny.”) Start­ing at mid­night, the show broad­cast hours of so-called “race music” to not just its already-enthu­si­as­tic fan base, but also the young white lis­ten­ers increas­ing­ly intrigued by its cap­ti­vat­ing, propul­sive sounds.

Freed soon com­mand­ed enough of an audi­ence to describe him­self as “King of the Moon­dog­gers.” When he announced the upcom­ing Moon­dog Coro­na­tion Ball, a show at Cleve­land’s hock­ey are­na fea­tur­ing sets from such pop­u­lar acts as Paul Williams and the Huck­le­buck­ers, Tiny Grimes and the Rock­ing High­landers (an all-black group whose sig­na­ture kilts would sure­ly stir up “cul­tur­al appro­pri­a­tion” dis­course today), Varet­ta Dil­lard, and Dan­ny Cobb, the Moon­dog­gers turned out. About 20,000 of them turned out, in fact, twice what the venue could han­dle. A tick­et mis­print was to blame, but the dam­age had been done — or rather, it would be done, when the well-dressed but over-excit­ed crowd stormed the are­na and the author­i­ties were called in to shut the show down by force.

In the event, only the first two acts ever took the stage. The planned coro­na­tion of the two most pop­u­lar teenagers in atten­dance (a holdover from anoth­er cul­tur­al dimen­sion entire­ly) nev­er hap­pened. But the spir­it of rebel­lious­ness wit­nessed at this first-ever rock con­cert was like a genie that could­n’t be put back in its bot­tle. How­ev­er square his image, Freed, who pop­u­lar­ized the term “rock and roll” as applied to music, was nev­er much of a rule-fol­low­er in his pro­fes­sion­al life. His lat­er impli­ca­tion in the pay­ola bribe scan­dals of the late fifties sent his career into a tail­spin, and his ear­ly death fol­lowed a few years lat­er. But to judge by re-tellings like the one in the Drunk His­to­ry video just above, he remains the hero of the sto­ry of the Moon­dog Coro­na­tion Ball — and thus a hero of rock and roll his­to­ry.

Relat­ed con­tent:

The Live Music Archive Lets You Stream/Download More Than 250,000 Con­cert Recordings–for Free

Inti­mate Live Per­for­mances of Radio­head, Son­ic Youth, the White Stripes, PJ Har­vey & More: No Host, No Audi­ence, Just Pure Live Music

How the Grate­ful Dead’s “Wall of Sound” — a Mon­ster, 600-Speak­er Sound Sys­tem — Changed Rock Con­certs & Live Music For­ev­er

The Ori­gin of the Rooftop Con­cert: Before the Bea­t­les Came Jef­fer­son Air­plane, and Before Them, Brazil­ian Singer Rober­to Car­los (1967)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

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How Steven Soderbergh Directs a Scene & Makes It Great

Steven Soder­bergh was one of the ear­li­est film­mak­ers to break out in what’s now called the “Indiewood” move­ment of the nine­teen-nineties. He was ear­ly enough, in fact, to have done so in the eight­ies, with the Palme d’Or-win­ning Sex, Lies, and Video­tape. His sub­se­quent films have been many and var­ied, even more so than those of his Indiewood peers Spike Lee, Robert Rodriguez, and Quentin Taran­ti­no. Some, like Schizopo­lis, Bub­ble, The Girl­friend Expe­ri­ence, and Let Them All Talk, have been more “indie”; oth­ers, like, Out of Sight, Erin Brock­ovich, and the Ocean’s and Mag­ic Mike series, have been more “Hol­ly­wood.” But wher­ev­er on the one-for-them-and-one-for-me spec­trum he’s worked, nev­er has he com­pro­mised on his craft.

To illu­mi­nate this ded­i­ca­tion, Evan Puschak, known on YouTube as the Nerd­writer, breaks down a scene from Soder­bergh’s lat­est pic­ture in the video above. Black Bag, which came out this past March, is a mid-bud­get thriller, a form that has proven fruit­ful for the direc­tor in recent decades.

It’s proven cre­ative­ly fruit­ful, at any rate, if not always finan­cial­ly; already, Soder­bergh him­self has pub­licly expressed his dis­ap­point­ment with the movie’s box-office per­for­mance. But if audi­ences have over­looked Black Bag, they haven’t done so due to its shod­dy work. In even one minor, tran­si­tion­al scene under two min­utes long, Puschak explains, we can iden­ti­fy numer­ous direc­to­r­i­al choic­es that make every­thing work effec­tive­ly.

Exam­in­ing each of the scene’s eleven shots (a bless­ed­ly patient edit­ing rhythm, by today’s stan­dards), Puschak points out Soder­bergh’s cuts, fram­ings, cam­era place­ments, move­ments, and focal lengths, explain­ing the rel­e­vance of each to the sto­ry play­ing out. This isn’t just a fan­boy’s auteurism: Soder­bergh always oper­ates his own cam­era and edits his own footage, cred­it­ing the jobs to pseu­do­nyms. That this prac­tice leaves his movies with a deep autho­r­i­al stamp, what­ev­er their sub­ject mat­ter or tar­get audi­ence, is obvi­ous; what’s less clear is how he’s man­aged to keep it up while mak­ing a fea­ture every year, on aver­age, since Sex, Lies, and Video­tape. If, after all this, you’re some­how not sold on watch­ing Black Bag, just wait for Soder­bergh’s next movie — which that most “effi­cient and cre­ative cin­e­mat­ic prob­lem solver” already fin­ished shoot­ing three months ago.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Steven Soder­bergh Cre­ates Silent, Black & White Recut of Raiders of the Lost Ark to Explain the Art of “Stag­ing”

Why the Tav­ern Scene in Quentin Tarantino’s Inglou­ri­ous Bas­ter­ds Is a Mas­ter Class in Film­mak­ing

Two Ways To Shoot The Same Scene: A Com­par­i­son of The Shop Around the Cor­ner (1940) and You’ve Got Mail (1998) Shows How Film­mak­ing Changed Over the Decades

The Scene That Reveals the Beau­ty of Clas­sic Hol­ly­wood Cin­e­ma

Anato­my of a Scene: 100+ Film­mak­ers Like Wes Ander­son, Tim Bur­ton & Rid­ley Scott Break Down a Scene from Each of Their Films

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

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David Bowie/Nirvana’s “The Man Who Sold The World” Played on the Gayageum, a Korean Instrument from the 6th Century

East meets West, and the Ancient, the Mod­ern. That’s what hap­pens every time Luna Lee plays one of your favorites on the Gayageum, a Kore­an instru­ment that dates back to the 6th cen­tu­ry. We’ve fea­tured her work in years past (see the Relat­eds below). Above, watch one of her stand­out performances—a cov­er of “The Man Who Sold The World,” the song first writ­ten by David Bowie in 1970, then famous­ly per­formed by Nir­vana on MTV Unplugged in 1993. An alter­nate video fea­tures Luna on vocals here. Enjoy!

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:

Clas­sic Blues Songs By John Lee Hook­er, B.B. King & Mud­dy Waters Played on the Gayageum, a Tra­di­tion­al Kore­an Instru­ment

David Bowie and Klaus Nomi’s Hyp­not­ic Per­for­mance on SNL (1979)

Watch Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Voodoo Chile’ Per­formed on a Gayageum, a Tra­di­tion­al Kore­an Instru­ment

Three Pink Floyd Songs Played on the Tra­di­tion­al Kore­an Gayageum: “Com­fort­ably Numb,” “Anoth­er Brick in the Wall” & “Great Gig in the Sky”

Ste­vie Ray Vaughan’s Ver­sion of “Lit­tle Wing” Played on Tra­di­tion­al Kore­an Instru­ment, the Gayageum

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How Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton & Harold Lloyd Pulled Off Their Spectacular Stunts During Silent Film’s Golden Age

It can be tempt­ing to view the box office’s dom­i­na­tion by visu­al-effects-laden Hol­ly­wood spec­ta­cle as a recent phe­nom­e­non. And indeed, there have been peri­ods dur­ing which that was­n’t the case: the “New Hol­ly­wood” that began in the late nine­teen six­ties, for instance, when the old stu­dio sys­tem hand­ed the reins to inven­tive young guns like Peter Bog­danovich, Fran­cis Ford Cop­po­la, and Mar­tin Scors­ese. But lest we for­get, that move­ment met its end in the face of com­pe­ti­tion from late-1970s block­busters like Jaws and Star Wars, a new kind of block­buster that sig­naled a return to the sim­ple thrills of silent cin­e­ma.

Even a cen­tu­ry ago, many movie­go­ers expect­ed two expe­ri­ences above all: to be wowed, and to be made to laugh. No won­der that era saw visu­al come­di­ans like Harold Lloyd, Buster Keaton, and Char­lie Chap­lin become not just the most famous actors in the world, but some of the most famous human beings in the world.

Stay­ing on top required not just seri­ous per­for­ma­tive skill, but also equal­ly seri­ous tech­ni­cal inge­nu­ity, as explained in the new Lost in Time video above. It breaks down just how Lloyd, Keaton, and Chap­lin pulled off some of their career-defin­ing stunts on film, putting the actu­al clips along­side CGI recon­struc­tions of the sets as they would have looked dur­ing shoot­ing.

When Lloyd hangs from the arms of a clock high above down­town Los Ange­les in Safe­ty Last! (1923), he’s real­ly hang­ing high above down­town Los Ange­les — albeit on a set con­struct­ed atop a build­ing, shot from a care­ful­ly cho­sen angle. When the entire façade of a house falls around Keaton in Steam­boat Bill, Jr. (1928), leav­ing him stand­ing unharmed in a win­dow frame, the façade actu­al­ly fell around him — in a pre­cise­ly chore­o­graphed man­ner, but with only a cou­ple of inch­es of clear­ance on each side. When a blind­fold­ed Chap­lin skates per­ilous­ly close to a mul­ti­sto­ry drop in Mod­ern Times (1936), he’s per­fect­ly safe, the edge of the floor being noth­ing more than a mat­te paint­ing: one of those ana­log tech­nolo­gies of movie mag­ic whose obso­les­cence is still bemoaned by clas­sic-film enthu­si­asts, from whom CGI, no mat­ter how expen­sive, nev­er quite thrills or amus­es in the same way.

Relat­ed con­tent:

The Art of Cre­at­ing Spe­cial Effects in Silent Movies: Inge­nu­ity Before the Age of CGI

Watch the Only Time Char­lie Chap­lin & Buster Keaton Per­formed Togeth­er On-Screen (1952)

Safe­ty Last!, the 1923 Movie Fea­tur­ing the Most Icon­ic Scene from Silent Film Era, Just Went Into the Pub­lic Domain

30 Buster Keaton Films: “The Great­est of All Com­ic Actors,” “One of the Great­est Film­mak­ers of All Time”

How Char­lie Chap­lin Used Ground­break­ing Visu­al Effects to Shoot the Death-Defy­ing Roller Skate Scene in Mod­ern Times (1936)

Char­lie Chap­lin Does Cocaine and Saves the Day in Mod­ern Times (1936)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

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How a Papal Conclave Works, and Who Might Be the Next Pope

On Tues­day, the car­di­nals locked them­selves into the Sis­tine Chapel, offi­cial­ly begin­ning the con­clave to elect the 267th pope. First for­mal­ized by Pope Gre­go­ry X in 1274, the con­clave (a word derived from the Latin words cum clave, mean­ing “with a key”) fol­lows a high­ly script­ed process honed over the past 800 years. How the con­clave works, and how it came into being—all of that gets cov­ered in the Reli­gion for Break­fast video above. It’s host­ed by the reli­gious stud­ies schol­ar Dr. Andrew M. Hen­ry.

Below, you can also delve into the more recent his­to­ry of papal elec­tions. Cre­at­ed by Use­ful Charts, this video cov­ers every papal con­clave since 1958 and includes a pre­dic­tion for who the next pope will be once the white smoke ris­es. Who is the next like­ly pon­tiff? No spoil­ers here. You’ll have to watch the video to find out.

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 

Take a 3D Vir­tu­al Tour of the Sis­tine Chapel & Explore Michelangelo’s Mas­ter­pieces Up Close

When There Were Three Popes at Once: An Ani­mat­ed Video Drawn in the Style of Medieval Illu­mi­nat­ed Man­u­script

Pope Fran­cis Set to Release a Rock/Pop Album: Lis­ten to the First Sin­gle

Pope John Paul II Takes Bat­ting Prac­tice in Cal­i­for­nia, 1987

 

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Take a 3D Virtual Tour of the Sistine Chapel & Explore Michelangelo’s Masterpieces Up Close

Today, 133 car­di­nals from around the world enter the con­clave to deter­mine the next pope, dur­ing which they’ll cast their votes in the Sis­tine Chapel. Despite being one of the most famous tourist attrac­tions in Europe, the Sis­tine Chapel still serves as a venue for such impor­tant offi­cial func­tions, just as it has since its com­ple­tion in 1481. When its name­sake Pope Six­tus IV com­mis­sioned it, he also ordered its walls cov­ered in fres­coes by some of the finest artists of that peri­od of the Renais­sance, includ­ing San­dro Bot­ti­cel­li, Domeni­co Ghirlandaio, and Cosi­mo Rossel­li. He also made the unusu­al choice of hav­ing the cross-vault ceil­ing cov­ered by a blue-and-gold paint­ing of the night sky, ably exe­cut­ed by Pier­mat­teo Lau­ro de’ Man­fre­di da Amelia.

No longer do the car­di­nals vote for their next leader under the stars, nor have they for about half a mil­len­ni­um. Even if you’ve nev­er set foot in the Sis­tine Chapel, you sure­ly know it as the build­ing whose ceil­ing was paint­ed by Michelan­ge­lo, lying flat on a scaf­fold all the while (a pleas­ing but high­ly doubt­ful image in the col­lec­tive cul­tur­al mem­o­ry).

In fact, that mas­ter of Renais­sance mas­ters did­n’t touch his brush to the place until 1508. He’d been brought in by a lat­er pope, Julius II, after hav­ing first resist­ed the com­mis­sion, insist­ing that he was a sculp­tor first, not a painter. For­tu­nate­ly for Renais­sance art enthu­si­asts, not only did Julius II pre­vail upon Michelan­ge­lo, so, near­ly thir­ty years lat­er, did Paul III, who had him paint over the altar the work that turned out to be the Last Judg­ment.

In the video at the top of the post, his­to­ry-and-archi­tec­ture YouTu­ber Manuel Bra­vo (pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture for his expla­na­tions of his­toric places like Venice, Pom­peii, the Cathe­dral of San­ta Maria del Fiore, and St. Peter’s Basil­i­ca, which was also touched by the hand of Michelan­ge­lo) nar­rates a 3D vir­tu­al tour of the Sis­tine Chapel. That for­mat makes it pos­si­ble to see not only its numer­ous works of Bib­li­cal art, by Michelan­ge­lo and a host of oth­er painters besides, from every pos­si­ble angle, but also the build­ing itself just as it would have looked in eras past, even before Michelan­ge­lo made his con­tri­bu­tion. The more you under­stand each indi­vid­ual ele­ment, the bet­ter you can appre­ci­ate this “ver­i­ta­ble Div­ina Com­me­dia of the Renais­sance,” as Bra­vo calls it, when next you can see it in per­son. That, of course, will only be after the con­clave fin­ish­es up: in a few hours, or days, or weeks, or maybe — a phe­nom­e­non not unex­am­pled in the his­to­ry of the church — a few years.

Relat­ed con­tent:

The Sis­tine Chapel: A $22,000 Art-Book Col­lec­tion Fea­tures Remark­able High-Res­o­lu­tion Views of the Murals of Michelan­ge­lo, Bot­ti­cel­li & Oth­er Renais­sance Mas­ters

Take a 3D Vir­tu­al Tour of the Sis­tine Chapel, St. Peter’s Basil­i­ca and Oth­er Art-Adorned Vat­i­can Spaces

The Vat­i­can Library Goes Online and Dig­i­tizes Tens of Thou­sands of Man­u­scripts, Books, Coins, and More

Michelangelo’s David: The Fas­ci­nat­ing Sto­ry Behind the Renais­sance Mar­ble Cre­ation

A Secret Room with Draw­ings Attrib­uted to Michelan­ge­lo Opens to Vis­i­tors in Flo­rence

Michelangelo’s Illus­trat­ed Gro­cery List

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

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Was William Shakespeare’s Marriage Closer—and Less Estranged—Than We Thought?: A 17th-Century Letter Changes What We Know About the Bard’s Life.

Image via Here­ford Cathe­dral and Here­ford Map­pa Mun­di Trust

At this point, every aspect of William Shake­speare’s life has pro­duced more spec­u­la­tion than any of us could digest in a life­time. That goes for his pro­fes­sion­al life, of course, but also his even more scant­i­ly doc­u­ment­ed per­son­al life. As far as his mar­riage is con­cerned, the known facts are these: on Novem­ber 27th, 1582 a mar­riage license was issued in Worces­ter to the 18-year-old William Shake­speare and the approx­i­mate­ly 26-year-old Anne Hath­away. Six months lat­er came the first of their three chil­dren, Susan­na. For most of his pro­fes­sion­al life, William lived in Lon­don, while Anne — willed only her hus­band’s “sec­ond-best bed” — remained in his home­town of Strat­ford-upon-Avon.

Accord­ing to one com­mon inter­pre­ta­tion, the Shake­spear­es’ was a shot­gun wed­ding avant la let­tre, moti­vat­ed less by romance than expe­di­en­cy. That would cer­tain­ly explain their appar­ent choice to live apart, though William’s career would prob­a­bly have brought him to Lon­don any­way, and with­out a good rea­son to be in the city, it was­n’t a bad idea to keep the kids out of plague range. (As for his best bed, it would cus­tom­ar­i­ly have been reserved for guests.) But accord­ing to a new inter­pre­ta­tion of an old doc­u­ment by the Uni­ver­si­ty of Bris­tol pro­fes­sor Matthew Steggle, the cou­ple could not only have remained in com­mu­ni­ca­tion, but also lived togeth­er in the cap­i­tal for a time.

“Here­ford Cathe­dral Library holds a frag­men­tary sev­en­teenth-cen­tu­ry let­ter addressed to a ‘Mrs Shak­spaire,’ con­cern­ing her husband’s deal­ings with a father­less appren­tice,” writes Steggle in his research paper recent­ly pub­lished in the jour­nal Shake­speare. “Of the Shake­spear­es record­ed in Lon­don, William Shake­speare is the only viable can­di­date to fit with the letter’s details.” In Steggle’s analy­sis, it “paints a pic­ture of William and Anne Shake­speare togeth­er in Lon­don, and liv­ing, per­haps around 1599–1603, in Trin­i­ty Lane. It fur­ther sug­gests an Anne Shake­speare who is not absent from her husband’s Lon­don life, but present and engaged in his finan­cial and social net­works.”

The New York Times’ Ephrat Livni quotes Steggle as say­ing that “this let­ter, if it belongs to them, offers a glimpse of the Shake­spear­es togeth­er in Lon­don, both involved in social net­works and busi­ness mat­ters, and, on the occa­sion of this request, pre­sent­ing a unit­ed front against impor­tu­nate requests to help poor orphans.” This, Livni adds, would “lend some heft to fem­i­nist read­ings of Shakespeare’s life,” as well as to the pop-cul­ture trend of “rethink­ing the mar­riage and Hathaway’s role in it.” Each era thus con­tin­ues to cre­ate the Shake­speare for whom it feels the need — and the Mrs. Shake­speare as well.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Free Course: A Sur­vey of Shakespeare’s Plays

Why Should We Read William Shake­speare? Four Ani­mat­ed Videos Make the Case

Behold Shakespeare’s First Folio, the First Pub­lished Col­lec­tion of Shakespeare’s Plays, Pub­lished 400s Year Ago (1623)

The Only Sur­viv­ing Script Writ­ten by Shake­speare Is Now Online

Did Shake­speare Write Pulp Fic­tion? (No, But If He Did, It’d Sound Like This)

Did Bach’s Wife Com­pose Some of “His” Mas­ter­pieces? A New Doc­u­men­tary Says Yes

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

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Marvin Gaye’s Classic Vocals on ‘I Heard It Through the Grapevine’: The A Cappella Version

It’s hard to believe, but Mar­vin Gaye’s clas­sic 1967 record­ing of “I Heard It Through the Grapevine” was orig­i­nal­ly reject­ed by his record label.

The song, about a man’s grief over hear­ing rumors of his lover’s infi­deli­ty, was writ­ten by the leg­endary Motown Records pro­duc­er Nor­man Whit­field and singer Bar­rett Strong. Smokey Robin­son and the Mir­a­cles first record­ed the track in 1966, but that ver­sion got nixed by Motown founder Berry Gordy dur­ing a week­ly qual­i­ty con­trol meet­ing. Then, Whit­field record­ed the song with Gaye in ear­ly 1967, but for some rea­son Gordy did­n’t like that ver­sion either. So Whit­field changed the lyrics a bit and record­ed it with Gladys Knight and the Pips. The fast-tem­po arrange­ment, influ­enced by Aretha Franklin’s “Respect,” was released as a sin­gle in Sep­tem­ber of 1967 and rose to num­ber one on the Bill­board R&B chart.

Gaye’s ver­sion might have been for­got­ten had it not been includ­ed in his 1968 album, In the Groove, where it soon became noticed. “The DJs played it so much off the album,” Gordy said lat­er, “that we had to release it as a sin­gle.”

Gaye’s record­ing of the song became a crossover hit. It rose not only to the top of the R&B charts, but also spent sev­en weeks at the top of the Bill­board Pop Sin­gles chart. It was Motown’s biggest-sell­ing sin­gle up to that time, and the In the Groove album name was soon changed to I Heard It Through the Grapevine.

Gaye was known for his sweet-sound­ing tenor voice, which he could mod­u­late from a bari­tone to a silky high falset­to. Dur­ing the “Grapevine” ses­sions, the singer report­ed­ly quar­reled with Whit­field over the pro­duc­er’s insis­tence that he sing the song in a high rasp. Whit­field pre­vailed, and Gaye’s per­for­mance is one of the great­est of the Motown era. You can hear his clas­sic vocals “a cap­pel­la” in the video above. And for a reminder of Whit­field­’s clas­sic arrange­ment, with its puls­ing elec­tric piano intro­duc­tion and shim­mer­ing strings, see the video below. The Funk Broth­ers, the leg­endary Motown back­ing group, played on the track, as did the back­ing vocal group The Andantes and the Detroit Sym­pho­ny Orches­tra.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2013.

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Revis­it­ing Mar­vin Gaye’s “What’s Goin’ On,” and the Album That Opened R&B to Resis­tance: Revis­it­ed 50 Years Lat­er

Zoo Hires Mar­vin Gaye Imper­son­ator to Help Endan­gered Mon­keys “Get It On”

Hear Grace Slick’s Hair-Rais­ing Vocals in the Iso­lat­ed Track for “White Rab­bit” (1967)

Fred­die Mer­cury & David Bowie’s Iso­lat­ed Vocals for Queen’s “Under Pres­sure” (1981)

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When Queen’s Freddie Mercury Performed with Opera Superstar Montserrat Caballé in 1988: A Meeting of Two Powerful Voices

Com­bin­ing pop music with opera was always the height of pre­ten­sion. But where would we be with­out the pre­ten­tious? As Bri­an Eno observed in his 1995 diary, “My assump­tions about cul­ture as a place where you can take psy­cho­log­i­cal risks with­out incur­ring phys­i­cal penal­ties make me think that pre­tend­ing is the most impor­tant thing we do. It’s the way we make our thought exper­i­ments, find out what it would be like to be oth­er­wise.” And with Fred­die Mer­cury and Queen, if it wasn’t for pre­tense we wouldn’t have “Bohemi­an Rhap­sody.” Hell, we wouldn’t have Queen, peri­od.

But in 1988 the gam­ble didn’t exact­ly pay off. To the British music press, Mer­cury was coast­ing on Live Aid fumes and the shad­ow of his unsuc­cess­ful solo album. And then to hear that he’d teamed up with opera singer Montser­rat Cabal­lé? Despite what any hagio­graph­ic tale of Mer­cury might say, this passed your aver­age rock fan by.

Out­side the whims of the charts, how­ev­er, Mercury’s team­ing up with Cabal­lé was the ful­fill­ment of a goal he’d had since 1981. The singer had fall­en in love with Caballé’s voice in 1981 when he’d seen her per­form along­side Luciano Pavarot­ti.

Then began a dance between the two artists. Mer­cury was wor­ried that Cabal­lé would not take this rock star seri­ous­ly. Cabal­lé, on the oth­er hand, was a rock music fan just like so many peo­ple. They owned each oth­er’s albums. Final­ly, in ear­ly 1986, the two met: Caballé’s broth­er was the music direc­tor of the upcom­ing 1992 Barcelona Olympics and ‘Who bet­ter to do a theme song with than Fred­die Mer­cury?’ said the singer.

Accord­ing to Peter Free­stone, Mercury’s per­son­al assis­tant and long­time friend, meet­ing Cabal­lé was the most ner­vous he’d ever been. Mer­cury was wor­ried the opera singer would be aloof and dis­tant. But she was as down to earth as Mer­cury in their off­stage moments.

As Free­stone recount­ed, “Fred­die assumed they’d only make one song togeth­er. Then Montser­rat said: ‘How many songs do you put on a rock album?’ When Fred­die told her eight or 10, she said: ‘Fine – we will do an album.’”

Mer­cury had two dead­lines: one based around Caballé’s sched­ule, and the oth­er based around his recent AIDS virus diag­no­sis. Though he had com­posed the open­ing song “Barcelona” to sing along­side Cabal­lé at the 1992 open­ing cer­e­monies, he told her that he prob­a­bly wouldn’t be around for that to hap­pen. (Cabal­lé instead sang “Ami­gos para siem­pre (Friends for­ev­er)” with Span­ish tenor José Car­reras.) They did man­age to per­form togeth­er, singing “Barcelona” at a pro­mo­tion­al event at Ku night­club in Ibiza in May, 1987.

Mer­cury wrote the eight songs on the Barcelona album with Mike Moran, the song­writer who’d also worked with Mer­cury on his pre­vi­ous solo album and whose “Exer­cis­es in Free Love” was adapt­ed into “Ensueño” for the album, with Cabal­lé help­ing in the rewrite.

Accord­ing to Free­stone, watch­ing Cabal­lé was the most emo­tion­al he’d seen the usu­al­ly reserved singer: “When Montser­rat sang ‘Barcelona’, after her first take was the near­est I ever saw Fred­die to tears. Fred­die was emo­tion­al, but he was always in con­trol of his emo­tions, because he could let them out in per­form­ing or writ­ing songs. He grabbed my hand and said: ‘I have the great­est voice in the world, singing my music!’ He was so elat­ed.”

In time, the album has gained in rep­u­ta­tion, but crit­ics point out that the label spent most of its bud­get on the title track—full orches­tra­tion, the works, as befits a meet­ing of two oper­at­ic minds—and relied on synths for the remain­ing songs. Fans are ask­ing for a rere­cord­ing that brings the full orches­tra to all the tracks. We’ve cer­tain­ly seen odd­er requests grant­ed in the last few years, like the remix of what many con­sid­er Bowie’s worst album. So who indeed can tell? Watch this space.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2020.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Queen’s Stun­ning Live Aid Per­for­mance: 20 Min­utes Guar­an­teed to Give You Goose Bumps (July 13, 1985)

Fred­die Mer­cury & David Bowie’s Iso­lat­ed Vocals for Queen’s “Under Pres­sure” (1981)

What Made Fred­die Mer­cury the Great­est Vocal­ist in Rock His­to­ry? The Secrets Revealed in a Short Video Essay

Hear a Pre­vi­ous­ly Unheard Fred­die Mer­cury Song, “Time Waits for No One,” Unearthed After 33 Years
Meet Fred­die Mer­cury and His Faith­ful Feline Friends

Fred­die Mercury’s Final Days: Watch a Poignant Mon­tage That Doc­u­ments the Last Chap­ter of the Singer’s Life

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, and/or watch his films here.

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How Zaha Hadid Revolutionized Architecture & Drew Inspiration from Russian Avant-Garde Art

Zaha Hadid died in 2016, at the age of 65. She cer­tain­ly was­n’t old, by the stan­dards of our time, though in most pro­fes­sions, her best work­ing years would already have been behind her. She was, how­ev­er, an archi­tect, and by age 65, most archi­tects are still very much in their prime. Take Rem Kool­haas, who today remains a leader of the Office of Met­ro­pol­i­tan Archi­tec­ture in his eight­ies — and who, back in the sev­en­ties, was one of Hadid’s teach­ers at the Archi­tec­tur­al Asso­ci­a­tion School of Archi­tec­ture in Lon­don. It was there that Kool­haas gave his promis­ing, uncon­ven­tion­al stu­dent the assign­ment of bas­ing a project on the art of Kaz­imir Male­vich.

Specif­i­cal­ly, as archi­tect Michael Wyet­zn­er explains in the new Archi­tec­tur­al Digest video above, Hadid had to adapt one of Male­vich’s “arkhitek­tons,” which were “objects that took his ideas of shapes that he used in his paint­ings” — the most wide­ly known among them being Black Square, from 1915, pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture — “and turned them into a 3D piece.”

To under­stand Hadid’s for­ma­tion, then, we must go back to the ear­ly-twen­ti­eth-cen­tu­ry Rus­sia in which Male­vich oper­at­ed as an avant-garde artist, and in which he launched the move­ment he called Supre­ma­tism, whose name reflects “the idea that his art was con­cerned with the suprema­cy of pure feel­ing, as opposed to the rep­re­sen­ta­tion of the real world.”

As a pio­neer of “non-objec­tive” art, Male­vich did his part to inspire Hadid on her path to design­ing build­ings that come as close to abstrac­tion as tech­no­log­i­cal­ly pos­si­ble. In fact, dur­ing the ini­tial phas­es of Hadid’s career, what we think of as her sig­na­ture curve-inten­sive archi­tec­tur­al style — exem­pli­fied by build­ings like the Lon­don Aquat­ics Cen­tre and the Dong­dae­mun Design Plaza in Seoul — was­n’t tech­no­log­i­cal­ly pos­si­ble. Exam­in­ing her ear­ly paint­ings, such as the one of the arkhitek­ton-based bridge hotel she turned in to Kool­haas, or her first built projects like the Vit­ra Fire Sta­tion in Weil am Rhein, shows us how her ideas were already evolv­ing in direc­tions then prac­ti­cal­ly unthink­able in archi­tec­ture. Zaha Hadid has now been gone near­ly a decade, but her field is in many ways still catch­ing up with her.

Relat­ed con­tent:

An Intro­duc­tion to the World-Renowned Archi­tect Zaha Hadid, “the Queen of the Curve”

The ABC of Archi­tects: An Ani­mat­ed Flip­book of Famous Archi­tects and Their Best-Known Build­ings

What Makes Kaz­imir Malevich’s Black Square (1915) Not Just Art, But Impor­tant Art

Every­thing You Need to Know About Mod­ern Russ­ian Art in 25 Min­utes: A Visu­al Intro­duc­tion to Futur­ism, Social­ist Real­ism & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

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