Two Reasons to be Optimistic About the Trump Phenomenon

Optimism regarding the Trump candidacy  might sound a little like telling a lazy dad in Miami to be happy about global warming--You'll never have to take your son to the park and miss Sunday afternoon football again!  Rejoice! Soon Timmy will be able to float his paper boats in the three-foot deep lake that once was your basement!

Two reasons to be optimistic about the Trump phenomenon?  Have I gone plumb Trumpo?  No. I do not deny that there is an enormous elephantine storm cloud hanging over our heads.  I do, however, claim that I have possibly seen a tiny silver lining around it. Did I need binoculars to see it?  Yes.  Might it still be an illusion?  Yes. Nevertheless, I see it.  And I do  think it is real.

First Reason to be Optimistic: The Republican Party Might Never Be The Same

The very fact that Trump was nominated by the Republican Party to run for president of the United States is the result of a  (largely working-class) white rebellion.  Working-class whites were, and are, furious.  They are realizing at last that Republicans really don't care much about them after all.  As every objective person realizes, the primary base of the GOP is the wealthy and powerful.  The problem for the Republicans, however, is that the elites are in the minority.  They need the white working-class vote--and the white vote in general--to get elected. So they make false promises.  So they play the "race card",  So they tell the gullible that cutting taxes for the wealthy is a great way to create jobs, which it obviously isn't.

One of the greatest objections I have to the current Republican Party is its us-against-them mentality. The them in this case is the vast majority of the population which would benefit, as a whole, from such things as the raising of the minimum wage, a New Deal-like job creation program to restore our dangerously neglected infrastructure, making college less expensive for those who can't afford it, raising taxes on the very wealthy, etc.

The establishment's candidate for the nomination was the run-of-the-mill Republican, Jeb Bush.  He would best be able, so the elites imagined,  to ingratiate himself with working-class whites, smiling while he runs them through the mill, while nearly all profits go to the owners of the mill.

This year poorer whites weren't willing to be grist for the mill.  Their wages have been declining since the 1970s, while the elites have gotten the lion's share of the meat.  Working-class whites aren't satisfied with slim pickings any more.  They are furious.  And who is Fury's (and perhaps the Furies' as well) candidate?  

I've only heard two prominent people clearly state that the white-working class has a right to be angry.  One was Bernie Sanders, the other one was Professor Cornel West, a prominent African-American.  The white working poor  have been beaten by the hands the owners of which claim that they were trying to pat them on the back.

The problem is that white non-elites are angry for the wrong reasons--this is why the Trumpcloud's silver lining is so thin.  Minorities are to blame!  Immigrants are to blame!  President Obama (--who actually has their backs--) is beating each one of us over the head!

Getting these whites to get beyond hatred, racism, and ignorance; getting them to realize which candidates will more likely be able to help them get out of the mess that they're in--won't be easy. They don't show any signs of realizing en masse that the dreadful inequalities of this county will tend to be ameliorated by Democrats and exacerbated by Republicans.  Maybe that realization will come some day--but it's apparently not coming any time soon.

But there is a silver lining--working class whites have finally realized that they've been used.  The Republican Party might have to change or suffer a severe fragmentation.  Perhaps they will not be able to nominate wolves in sheep's clothing like Romney or Jeb Bush any more.  And that's a good thing.

Second Reason to be Optimistic: Increasing Diversity of the Population

Germany, January, 1933.  The Nazis receive 43.9% of the vote--Despite failing to achieve a majority, the Nazis receive more votes than any other party.  The senile Hindenburg appoints Hitler Chancellor.  The darkest period of modern history begins.

The German economy had been reeling from a severe depression for years.  Violence was common.  The working class was seething.  The most ignorant section of the working class, called Lumpenproletariat in German, gave Hitler his most ardent support. 

Germany was at that time ethnically homogeneous.  Hitler's supporters were just about 100% white and Christian.

Let us imagine another scenario.  What if Germany's population at the time had been 30%, instead of less than 1%, Jewish, and, say, 10% Romany?  Despite the stresses of economic depression, no Jew or Gypsy in his or her right mind would have voted for Hitler, who spent a good deal of his time spouting venomous  hatred against them.  The Nazis would obtain a much lower percentage of the votes, perhaps around 30% or even less.  They would not have been able to seize power.  Germany--and the world--would have quite possibly been spared that horror of horrors, World War II, and the black hole at the center of that galactic horror, the Holocaust.  Their minority population would have saved them.

Today in the United States minorities may well save us.  The latest polls indicate that Trump will receive only one percent of the African American vote, and much less than a majority of Hispanic votes.  Without the help of minorities, an incompetent, hateful, delusional narcissist might soon be our president.  

A Conclusion...

The possibility that the Republican Party will actually begin to listen to the majority of their supporters; the possibility that the acid of working-class venom will be sufficiently buffered by antacids in the form of minority opposition--Two silver linings indeed!

And a Brief Afterword

Hitler was shrewd; he remained focused on his nefarious goals.  Trump just wants applause, and apparently will say anything to get it.  Too bad for him that he lies like a raging stormtrooper instead of just lying like a trooper à la Paul Ryan.  Trump, the  extremely impolitic pseudo--politician, continues to alienate--At the time of this writing, thank Goodness, his support is waning.  Maybe, just maybe, that dark cloud over our heads will blow away.  Maybe the light of rationality will return to American skies. Maybe the white working class will stop voting against themselves.

 One can only hope.  And vote.  

Light, Shadow, and Substance: Five Paintings by William Merritt Chase

William Merritt Chase: A Modern Master

I recently visited an exhibition of a great artist entitled, “William Merritt Chase: A Modern Master,” at the Phillips Collection, June 4, 2016--September 11, 2016.    Some of the paintings moved me deeply, very deeply.  Staring at a painting for quite some time, I was asked to reveal what I found so intriguing.  I was not at a loss for words. 

After I visited the exhibition for the second time, I felt I could conduct a tour. 

After reading the excellent exhibition catalog, from which I learned a lot, it became clear to me that I saw Chase's paintings from a different angle. Since I am a poet and a writer, this is perhaps not that surprising. An artist in a written medium, untrained in the visual arts, is not intimidated, however, when words become brushstrokes; art, after all, is art.  In my case, I don’t think what I have to say is particularly profound; the angle of sight, and, especially, my angle of insight, is, however,  different.  Who knows?,  the resultant view might prove to be complementary to the art historian’s way of looking at Chase’s work.

What is it, then, that I see, an aspect of Chase’s work that others seem to have missed?  The virtuosity and dazzling technique are undeniable.  What I see—feel free to deny it, but, please, only after reading this article—is a painter who was able to show and tell.  Dazzling technique is Rossini; technique and profundity combine in Mozart.  In my opinion, Chase is closer to Mozart than he is to Rossini.

In this essay, we shall emphasize the symbolism in Chase’s art, an important aspect that, to my knowledge, has received little attention.  We will begin our discussion with an analysis of an 1875 painting, “Keying Up”—The Court Jester.  We will continue with an analysis of two additional paintings that “say” what this painting "says", albeit with a different emphasis.  Each of the two works will be preceded by two “interludes”.

First Main Painting: “Keying Up”—The Court Jester, 1875, oil on canvas, 39.5 x 35 in.

This painting dates from the middle of Chase’s six formative and successful years at the Royal Academy in Munich.  The broad brushwork and dark tones of the Munich school were ideal for the internalization of subject matter, especially of portraits; in contrast to the fine brushwork of the Hudson River School, the result is much more subjective.

What is Chase trying to convey with the work?  We see a man having to resort to alcohol to give him the courage to perform.  His features indicate that he resorts to alcohol frequently; his nose displays the typical erythema of the alcoholic.  Notice his right hand—the skin is thin and a vein is bulging.  The slight swellings of both knees suggest cartilaginous degeneration and arthritis. This man is not young.  He probably never enjoyed being a court jester; he gives the appearance of being dissatisfied not only with his “vocation,” but with life in general.

You have to be intelligent and witty to entertain a sophisticated audience.  He must amuse the court, providing them with material that he thinks the royals would like to hear, but he can never be sure.   There were no unions for court jesters; if he fails to be amusing, he is in danger of losing his livelihood, which could easily be a death sentence.  His life is not easy--We can see in his features signs of chronic anxiety. Notice the upturned mustache, like a painted fake smile.  He must “put on a happy face,” in marked contrast to the puffy features and downward gaze of an obviously unhappy man.

At this point, I will allow my imagination to run a little freer.  What I say must be consistent with this painting; it need not be the only possible interpretation, however.  Understatement and suggestibility, in any case,   are two nouns that are not strangers to great art.

I imagine that this man came from a poor family, not an unreasonable assumption.  Either that, or the fact that he is a dwarf—notice the length of his legs—restricted his possibilities.  Possibly both of these factors apply.  We mentioned that this little man had to be intelligent and witty to succeed in his precarious line of work.  I imagine had been known for his wit from an early age, an ability that brought him to the attention, probably by chance, of a nobleman.  The jester was clever enough to make it all the way to the top—that is, to the presence of the king.  He was young at the time; he became a great success.  How the lords and ladies laughed!  His success went to his head; as a poor man he had hitherto never received such attention.

Now, many years later, the party’s over.  He hates what he’s doing and must “key up” with alcohol before he begins his shtick.  Perhaps a new, younger king, doesn’t find him all that clever.  Things, to put it mildly, are not looking up for him.

As an intelligent and quite possibly, an ambitious man, he had hoped for something better.  I imagine him thinking of what might have been, had he not been born deformed and poor.  The fact that he has to dress in ridiculous garb and prance about before people, some of them half his age, is deeply humiliating.  Only one escape is left for him: numbing his despair with alcohol.

I referred to his routine with the Yiddish word, shtick.  Suddenly the background becomes a back stage of a theater.  He is about to begin a vaudeville routine.  He hates himself for having to earn his keep in this manner.

Chase brilliantly indicates his entrapment with his rendering of the Fool’s bauble, in this case a little dummy that is the spitting image of the jester.  Usually the bauble, also known as the marotte, is a scepter with a small carving in the likeness of the performer.  Chase takes this a step further: the dummy looks like the jester in his earlier days; the red nose of the alcoholic is, however, already apparent.  Having to look at himself at the beginning of his decline and having to joke about it is another source of humiliation for him.

Chase always knew what he wanted to do in life and was extremely successful as an artist, teacher, friend and family man.  When this work was completed, Chase, at 26, was well on his way to fulfilling his ambition.  I can’t help but think that for Chase, perhaps unconsciously, this great painting conveyed a message dear to his heart:  Do what you hate to do and you eventually wind up,--figuratively, that is--as an aging, miserable court jester.  This painting is a warning for all those who have sacrificed their soul in order to get by.  Like the jester in the painting, you might find out too late and be too stuck in habit to do anything about it.   Joseph Campbell said it well: follow your bliss.  If not, you will most likely become, if you survive, an old fool.

First Interlude: Tenth Street Studio, ca. 1980-81 and ca. 1910. Oil on canvas, 46.5 x 66 in.

This painting was begun two years after Chase’s sojourn in Munich. Chase has begun to show mastery in interiors as well.  In this painting,  his famous tenth street studio is depicted.

I am not aware if anyone has written on the symbolism of this piece.  What I suspect Chase was trying to convey leaped out at me as soon as I saw the painting.

There are two levels in this painting, one on the “human” level, the upper border of which is formed by the straight lines at the top of the picture frames near the two central figures.  These lines are broken as we gaze toward the left, but do continue on a somewhat lower level.  The piece of furniture in the corner and the painting behind the seated figure delineate the upper border of this "human" area. 

Above the line of vision of the figures is a huge stuffed swan, the neck of which is pointing to the lower realm. 

I had the distinct impression that the swan is a memento mori;  it looks like it is ready to dive-bomb into the realm below, like a bird of prey in free fall.  (Does the angle of the swan’s wings indicate that death is modifying its flight in order to directly strike unawares the ‘victims,” two figures almost directly below, preoccupied with activities on the lower level?) All three figures could see the “death swan” if they looked up, but they are apparently content for the time being to keep to the lower realm.

The viewer, however, sees the whole picture.  The swan is, in fact, the most prominent figure in the painting.  The swan does not have any of the horrific features of medieval mementos mori; she is pure white, an inevitable blank.  Chase, however, was an inveterate optimist.  Death is not depicted here as something horrible; it is white, even beautiful, and necessary.  The striking figure of the swan is evenly balanced by everything below it—that is, the realm of life below.  The viewer sees the whole picture, life and death in harmonious balance.

In Chase’s time, with its improvements in public health, death was beginning to be put out of sight, even out of mind.  The figures in the painting could go about their worldly activities for a prolonged period without death putting a premature ending to them.  (The life span at the time was about fifty, largely due to the still very high infant mortality rate.)  That “prolonged period” is, of course, even longer now.

Yet death will have its due, no matter how unaware we are of it, which seems to me to be the subtle message of this painting.

Second Main Painting: Sunlight and Shadow, 1884, Distemper on canvas, 65.5 x 77.25 in.

This painting affected me most of all.

We see here that Chase is not only a master of portraiture, as in “Keying Up”; not only a master of interiors, as in “Tenth Street Studio”, but has become a veritable master of the play of light and shade as well.

The symbolism here is quite subtle.  It is that of a microcosm subsumed into the macrocosm.  The artist gave the paining two titles, an indication of the work’s duality.  The macrocosm title, the main title, is “Sunlight and Shadow”; the microcosm title is “The Tiff”.  Let’s begin with a discussion of the microcosm, the relationship between the man and the woman, presumably husband and wife.

We infer, by the empty chair that has been pushed back, that the scene had begun with a tête-à-tête breakfast scene.  The wife, whose face is scarcely visible, is lying on a hammock; she is looking at the observer, her angle of vision is 90 degrees apart from her husband’s.  She has her hand to her lower face; she is, or has been, crying.  The husband, is looking down, lost in (perhaps guilty?) thought.  There is trouble in paradise.

This aspect of the painting, however, is hardly noticeable at first.  What is important is the whole picture, a delightful, well-balanced interplay of sunlight and shadow.  If one divides the canvas vertically through the middle, it splits into a yin side and yang side.  The yang, masculine side, is dominated by the male figure in white; a light-yellow painted wall of the house frames him.  The white tablecloth is mostly on the side of the male figure.  On the yin, feminine side, warmer reds dominate.  The pink of the lady’s dress is framed by the gentle red of the neighbor's house.  The man has his left arm on the table pointing (unbeknownst to its owner) to the pink flowing dress of his wife, horizontally suspended, the upper edge of which forms a broken line from hand to dress.  It looks as if the husband it pushing her away. In a way he is—they obviously have had an argument.  No doubt about it, she left the breakfast table in tears.

The colossal figure of the male—perhaps a symbolization of his ego—is balanced by the wife and the figure of the servant in the background.  The philosophy of yinyang, however, indicates that what is apparently separated is really connected—behind everything is oneness.  That’s exactly the idea that is conveyed here.  Seen from afar there is no tiff, just harmony and balance.  The separation of reality into yin and yang only occurs in thought; nature, as we see here, knows no duality. 

Chase’s little touches amaze me.  Notice the blush of red extending from the man’s pocket, matching the red of the flower in the vase on the table just below his wife’s head, from which it was probably taken.  Chase is telling us what the painting as a whole tells us: the couple is still very much connected, although at the moment they don’t know it. There are patches of light, the result of sunlight passing over and between leaves, on the ground.  Notice there are also a few little patches of light on the tablecloth, close to the female figure.  Light is being served, as it were—the couple doesn’t notice; their pangs of separation have temporarily put blinders over their eyes making them unaware of the feast of light before them.  But not on ours.  We see everything; they are part of the cosmos like everything else; we see only harmony.

Perhaps the man is an upper-class version of the court jester; I like to think of him in that way.  He is dressed to the nines; he is undoubtedly extremely successful.  Is he, however, doing what he wants?  Is the stress of his position wreaking havoc on the relationship between him and his wife?  Is he in danger of becoming alienated like the court jester, in a very different but related way?

Perhaps not.  Chase, the inveterate optimist, gave this painting the alternate title, “The Tiff,” not something like “Prelude to a Divorce.” In this idyllic world, an argument, not to mention a tiff, cannot last.  The upbeat nature of this painting gives us the impression that the couple, especially the man, will soon see what we see, the whole picture. Once again they will be internally what they are externally, integral parts of a shimmering whole.

Second Interlude: The Lone Fisherman, c. 1892, oil on panel, 15 x 11.5 inches

Chase once told pupils to cut an oblong hole in a card, then look through it as through a camera lens until one finds something interesting, something different.  Move the view finder to a corner, and there you might have found a worthy subject for a painting.  One then needed to add what he considered to be essential: a subjective view.  Painting objective depictions of nature was not for him.

One can imagine that he followed his own advice with this painting.  The scene is depicted from a very odd angle, more like the view as seen from a crab on one of the rocks in the foreground.  Only a child or an artist would be likely to ever look at a scene in this way.

Was Chase merely trying to create an oddity here, something that provided one with an original, crab’s-eye view of the world?  As is often the case with Chase, there is much more going on here.

In order to explain what I mean, we need to take a small philosophical diversion.  Simone Weil once wrote, “The higher order exists in the lower order only as something very small.”   This is true, but only from a human perspective.  What she means is this: what we first notice in the night sky are the stars.  This is the higher order,  which fills a very small volume of space compared to the lower order, the vacuum of space, which is almost infinitely vaster.  Next, the higher order, life; the matter which composes living beings is very small compared to the inorganic matter in the universe, the lower order.  Similarly, human life is but a fraction of the entire biomass of earth.

We take notice of the higher orders first; they seem more significant to us.  We tend to see life even when it's not present. Thus we see faces on Mars, or as some claimed to have seen, the Virgin Mary on a potato chip.  Our brains are programmed to see what is human, people, faces.

This portrait almost turns this truth upside-down—The huge rocks in the foreground remind one of the size of celestial bodies, so much greater than the size of a human being.  The whitish surface of the sea wall reminds me, in a way, of the path of a comet, shooting into the depths of space.  We eventually discover that the path is broken by a member of what it to us the highest order of all.

We don’t notice the fisherman at first.  This is precisely the point.  At first, he looks like just another rock. Then we see him--the title of the painting, after all, makes us look for the fisherman. Yet what would this painting be without this human figure?  Although the volume of space that the fisherman fills is almost nothing compared to the vastness of the rocks behind him, he is indeed what gives the picture definition.

Chase goes even further: the man looks like an integral part of the rocky landscape.  (Notice how his tawny hat blends in with the yellowish sand on the far shore.  This, I think  is deliberately symbolic. Perhaps Chase is telling us: we think we’re special, but we’re not.  Perhaps he is also telling us: consciousness makes us special after all.  Suddenly we realize that without consciousness we wouldn’t be able to see anything, rocks, stars, nor human beings.

Chase’s technique is so dazzlingly apparent, that many have missed the subtle symbolism behind many of his paintings.  In 1919, for instance, the critic John Van Dyke wrote this about the artist’s work: “It is perhaps a shortcoming of Chase’s art that he insisted upon merely seeing his subject and not thinking about it.” Good God, Mr. Van Dyke, did you ever get that wrong!

Third Main Painting: Self-Portrait in 4^th Avenue Studio, 1915-1916, Oil on Canvas, 52.5 in. x 63.5 in.

Chase said of this painting, completed shortly before his death in 1916 at the age of 66: “One always remains a student; and every new canvas I have had was the rarest opportunity to make that the best I have ever done.  I have just made a portrait of myself standing with a blank canvas in front of me.  This is to be my masterpiece.  The ideal and the aim of it all I believe is that you can remain young all the time to the end, always be a fresh fighter, ambitious to the end.”

A blank canvas for painters corresponds to a blank page for poets.  After one finishes a work, no matter how satisfying the result, one is back to square one, an empty surface. This can be terrifying or at least disheartening.  Not to the man in this portrait.  He is not afraid of anything.

And a masterpiece it is, a perfect reification of his words in a work which goes much further than those words, as we shall see. 

Chase is looking directly at the observer, exuding self-confidence.  This man is absolutely convinced that he has no reason to lower his gaze before anyone.  His face reveals a man who has followed his passion his entire life—and has met with great success.  The facial expression recalls Chase’s Munich days, when he mastered the art of portraiture, such as in the Frans Hals-inspired painting, Ready to Ride, which was also displayed in the Phillips Collection exhibition.  In the eyes of this self-portrait you see not only self-confidence—a whiff of vanity, and more than a whiff of seriousness are present as well. The expression is, however, not severe—somehow one gets the impression—from the upturned mustache, perhaps—that Chase is smiling under all that facial hair.    When I first saw this painting,  Frank Sinatra began singing, “My Way”, inside my head.

As in the previous paintings, the  symbolism in this final portrait is subtle, understated, but very much present. From the right side of the painting, light streams through an open window.  This is no normal light.  Everything in the vertical oblong area into which the light is streaming is vaguely drawn, as opposed to the well-defined figures, including Chase himself, on the left side of the painting.  There is a brown strip, the right-side border of the canvas, which separates the world of light—I would call it the transcendent world—from the world of humanity.  If you look carefully at the faint red lines streaming in from the window, you will see a hand—the streaks, the fingers, point directly at the canvas.  (This is no anthropomorphic hand, by the way, Chase painted a century after the Enlightenment in which an anthropomorphic representation of transcendent reality was no longer intellectually possible.)

The supra-human hand pointing toward the canvas is nothing short of a modern version of Michelangelo’s painting depicting God giving life to Adam in the Sistine Chapel.  Adam’s inanimate hand has become a blank canvas.  It is up to the artist to bring the world to life onto the canvas. The artist, unlike Adam, is, however, unaware of the hand behind the canvas.  He is separated from the world of light by the blank canvas.  Direct communication is no longer possible.  God—spirit or whatever you like to call it—is, however, within him.  The artist alone will be able to recreate creation, just what the hand is beckoning him to do, without his ever being aware of its presence. 

Chase was an expert in harmonizing and balancing colors, so that the result is pleasing to the eye.  But the use of colors here is very symbolic as well.  The hand seems to be pointing directly at the red splotch of paint on the palette.  Notice also that there is a thin reddish vertical line descending from the artist's right eye.  The color of creation depicted in this painting is red.  The red line below the artist’s eye tells us that the eye is the window to the soul.  The red on the palette reveals what is inside the house, as it were.  Inside will soon become outside, as the red is transferred to the canvas after they pass through the alembics of the artist's mind.  

This painting is not only a subjective painting of an artist but an objective one as well—a very apt symbolization of the creative process.

Conclusion

I chose the paintings which I classified as “three main paintings”, not because I felt that they were the best in his oeuvre—although they certainly are great paintings.  I chose them because they fit together like the panels of a medieval altar.  The left panel consists of “Keying Up”—we see here a wretch who was never able to be true to himself.  On the right we have a close-up of the male figure in “Sunlight and Shadow”—a man who will not experience poverty, but is in danger of wasting his unique opportunities due to  poverty of soul, initial  symptoms of which are revealed by his downcast gaze.  In the center is this portrait of Chase informing everyone at the altar: “Do not waste your life.  Be true to yourself!"

Few will see exactly what I see in these paintings, but the ability to evoke various responses is one of the beauties of great art.  In some of Chase's best work, five examples of which have been presented here, we have emphasized the symbolism, the messages Chase, whether consciously or unconsciously, conveys.  In the final self-portrait, however, Chase himself becomes the message: Do what you really want to do. Find pleasure in what you do and work as hard as you can.  Follow your bliss. This is your only chance! Like me, develop a good eye for the world.  Like me, also develop a good I for living in it.  You might have less money.  You might have less fame.  You will face many challenges.  But look at me.  I succeeded.  Why can’t you?

Sounds like Chase is telling us to become poets, in the broadest sense of that word. And, indeed, he is.

Hic Cantat Roma in Aeternam: Two Examples of Great Music Inspired by Roman History

A few days ago, I heard on National Public Radio an interview with Mary Beard, who is a professor of classics at Cambridge.  The occasion was the appearance of her book, SPQR,  (Senatus et Populusque Romanus,  The Senate and People of Rome), in paperback.  (When I read a positive review of the book in The Economist, I obtained a copy and read it straightaway—it is a hard book to put down!  I highly recommend it; its combination of interesting material and good writing is irresistible.)  At the very end of the interview, she was asked which work of fiction or art based of Roman history especially impressed her.  I, Claudius, a BBC adaptation from the 1970s of Robert Graves novel of historical fiction, was her response.  She acknowledged that much in the series was historically inaccurate, but it was fun.  I remember the series well; my wife and I didn’t miss an episode—We completely agree with Professor Beard’s assessment.

Immediately after the interview was over, I began to think of works with Roman themes that fascinate me the most.  I will now present two of them, both from opera.  In contrast to I, Claudius, with its humor and campy elements, these two examples are very serious—and very moving.

First Example: Seneca’s Death Scene from Claudio Monteverdi’s Opera, L'incoronazione di Poppea

L'incoronazione di Poppea, first performed in  1643, is one of the two earliest operatic masterpieces in the repertoire, the other being Orfeo, an earlier work by the same composer, Claudio Monteverdi, (1567-1643).  The scene discussed here  begins after Seneca received the news that Nero has ordered him to commit suicide because of the philosopher's objections to the emperor’s plan to abandon his current wife and make the ambitious Poppea empress.  (Seneca was indeed ordered to commit suicide in 65 CE, but the order had nothing to do with Poppea; Nero suspected Seneca's  participation in a plot to assassinate him.  L'incoronazione begins a long tradition in opera based on historical events, a tradition which emphasizes dramatic effect over historical accuracy.)

The Russian bass Denis Sedov gives a moving performance of Seneca in the YouTube clip which I have provided.  Seneca,  a stoic philosopher, was expected—by himself and by his students—to face death with equanimity.  In Sedov’s interpretation, it is clear that Seneca will not demure—nevertheless, impending death fills him with anguish.  It will not be easy, even for him. Seneca relates that the anguish of death is brief, and that the soul will fly to Olympus, its true home.  But Sedov's facial expression indicates that Seneca doubts whether this is true, which gives the interpretation a modern aspect.  A beautiful voice and great acting skills--just what is needed here. This singer delivers--how touching, for instance, is his depiction of Seneca silently saying farewell to life, first by picking up a piece of fruit off the ground and kissing it, and then by lovingly touching one of his beloved books. The quiet dignity of Monteverdi's music and the quality of this performance are remarkable. The bass’s voice and acting abilities significantly help to make this a masterful performance.  (The only criticism I have is that the youthful Mr. Sedov should have been made to look older—Seneca was in his late sixties—a veritable old man by Roman standards—at the time of his death.  A 'youthful Stoic philosopher,' at least when depicted on stage, strikes me as being something of an oxymoron.)

What I find most riveting about this music is the “Non morir, Seneca” section, sung by Seneca’s pupils.  Its ascending chromaticisms have a searing effect on the listener.  I would translate "Non morir, Seneca" as “Please don’t die, Seneca”.  This “Please don’t die” motif strikes me as being universal, an appropriately poignant "unheard" accompaniment to all those please-don’t-dies that have been said at the deathbed of loved ones over the centuries.  But die they do.

Thank you very much, Mr. Sedov, for putting your stellar performance on YouTube!

Second Example: Act 1, Scene 7 from Handel’s Giulio Cesare

The prolific George Frederick Handel, (1685-1759), wrote forty-two operas from 1705 until 1742.  (By 1742, the enthusiasm for Italian opera had  waned in England; Handel, as we all know, thereupon turned his attention to the composition of oratorios in English.) Giulio Cesare was composed in 1724; it was a success then, and is arguably the most successful Baroque opera in the current repertoire.

Handel was a first-rate melodist, a first-rate instrumentalist, and, as this example so amply proves, a first-rate dramatist as well.  In Handel’s day, beautiful singing was given precedence.  The dramatic action often occurred off-stage and was summed up in recitatives.  The singer would then express his or her reaction and then walk off the stage, whereupon another performer, or combination of performers, would do the same.  Not very dramatic. In addition, the A B A form of the arias which entails an elaborate da capo repeat of the first section, makes for great singing--at the expense of dramatic action.  In this example, which runs only a few minutes, the dramatic flow from beginning to end is uninterrupted by florid singing.  The result is superb. One can only imagine what Handel could have composed if he had lived in a time when operatic conventions had changed.  Verdi would have quite possibly have met his match.  Don’t get me wrong, what Handel composed is beautiful and effective in its own right, although modern audiences may need some time to adjust to the conventions of Baroque opera. 

The text, adapted from an earlier work by Handel’s friend, Nicola Francesco Haym, is very effective, a good poem in itself.  The original Italian version follows, along with my translation:

Alma del gran Pompeo,

Che al cenere suo d’intorno

Invisibil t’aggiri,

Fur’ombre i tuoi tronfei,

Ombra la tua grandezza, e un’ombra sei.

Così termina al fine il fasto umano.

Ieri che vivò occupò un mondo in guerra,

Oggi resolto in polve un’urna serra.

Tal di ciascuno, ai lasso!

Il principio è di terra, e il fine è un sasso.

Misera vita ! Oh, quanto è fral tuo stato !

Ti forma un soffio, e ti distrugge un fiato.

My prose translation :

Soul of great Pompey, who are invisibly

Encircling his ashes, your triumphs were shadows,

Your grandeur a shadow, and now you are

A shadow (shade) as well.

This is how human pomp ends--

Yesterday who, while alive, kept a world

At war, today is reduced to ash which an urn encloses.

Thus everyone’s beginning

Is of earth, and the end, alas! is a stone.

Miserable life!  Oh how frail is your state—

A breath forms you and a breath takes you away.

Handel was very much up to the task of putting these heartrending words to music—to truly unforgettable music. I know of no other excerpt in the entire history of opera in which the vanity and frailty of human existence, suddenly reduced to ash by death, is expressed more poignantly than it is here.

I provide two performances.  Although the original tessitura of the music for the title role was in the alto range, I think the gravitas of the text is best interpreted by a bass.  I will never forget Normal Treigle’s performance; his appearance in the opera alongside Beverly Sills was a great success—which occurred a few years before I, Claudius first appeared on TV.  Treigle had a great voice and possessed consummate acting skills as well; he delivered a very nuanced interpretation of this scene.  If his version were on YouTube, I would have selected it.  The bass Boris Christoff, however, gives a very admirable performance here.  I also include a version sung by the countertenor, Alfred Deller, which gives one a better idea of the original tessitura. The quality and purity of tone of Deller’s voice is amazing.  One gets the impression, however, that he was much more interested in beautiful sound rather than in dramatic phrasing,  a disadvantage in the performance of this piece of music, which demands both.

Conclusion

These two examples of great music with a Roman flair are unforgettable.  We can be grateful that Roman history–albeit an admittedly bowdlerized version thereof—inspired the librettists and, especially, the composers to create these masterpieces.  Hic cantat Roma in aeternam!  I hope this little article has inspired you, figuratively at least, to sing along.

The Three Colors Of Privilege

The United States suffers from three colors of privilege.  Each privilege is an independent variable; alone or in combination, as we shall see, they are harmful to the well-being of Americans and to the well-being of everyone else as well.  The three entities are white privilege, green privilege and red privilege.  We shall discuss each one in turn, followed by some closing remarks.

White Privilege

I do not watch Fox News, but do occasionally listen to a YouTube excerpt when the subject of the snippet catches my eye.  I couldn't resist clicking on one that contained a discussion Bill O'Reilly had about racism, white privilege in the broadest sense. When he angrily told his opponent that racism in America no longer exists, my jaw dropped, figuratively and literally.  How could anyone say something so patently absurd?

Racism, which took the most heinous form possible for well over a century, namely, slavery, has been a national disgrace.  True, great progress has been made.  The weeds of prejudice have extensive roots, however; dig up a a few inches of American soil just about anywhere and you will find them, still choking the growth of fairer perennials.

Yes, racism, unfortunately, is still very much with us.  Do I have to give examples?  Here's one: identical resumes were sent out to businesses, some with a black-sounding name, say, Jamal, and others with a more generic one, such as James.  Guess what the striking pattern of responses was?

Anecdotes pile up.  I will relate one.  I, an old white man, go to my bank once or twice a week.  During past transactions, I had pleasant exchanges with a teller.  I considered her to be a very friendly, polite person.  One day a black acquaintance of mine went to the same teller.  He is a very decent, polite person, one of the kindest human beings I know.  His crime: being young, black, and male.  He told me that she treated him as if he were a thug.  He wasn't even angry; I suppose you get used to it.  You shouldn't.  Now I, too, look at that teller with suspicion.  The friendly exchanges are gone.

The statistics are, to put it mildly, alarming.  Blacks and whites use illegal drugs at about the same rate; black drug users tend to smoke crack, white drug users tend to snort or inject powdered heroin.  Two forms of the same drug, yet the possession of 28 grams of crack is the legal equivalent of the possession of 500 grams of heroin; each carries a mandatory five-year prison sentence.   This and other factors have resulted in the obscene fact that 60% of those who have been sentenced to life-time imprisonment without parole for non-violent crimes are black, a statistic way out of proportion to the percentage of blacks in the population.  Over 90% of those imprisoned for life for non-violent crimes in Louisiana are black! Do you think this might be an attempt to remove black males from the population?  If you don't think so, think again.

Darryl Pinckney, in an article, "Black Lives and the Police," (New York Review of Books, August 16, 2016), presented a convincing list of the effects of white privilege.  Prejudice against blacks has resulted in,  "racial profiling, stop and frisk, discriminatory sentencing practices, the disproportionately high black prison industry, the hallucinatory disaster of the war on drugs, and the double standard when it comes to race and class and law."

We have a very serious problem in this country, and we all need to work together to fix it.



Green Privilege

Green privilege is class privilege.  It is the widespread belief that talent, achievement and wealth are proofs of superiority.  Green privilege tends to divide humanity into winners and losers. (This was the credo of Donald Trump before he suppressed this belief in order to gain working class support for his obnoxious candidacy.)

I would like to ask every successful person to answer these questions: Did you create your intelligence?  Did you create your talent?  Did luck, family circumstances and connections have anything to do with your success?  If you had a less talented brother, would you still consider him your brother? Aren't we all brothers and sisters?

I am convinced that no one has the right to consider himself/herself superior--or inferior--to anyone else.  If you are rich and successful that's great--but don't you think a little "there but for the grace of God go I" is in order?  Have you made the world even a little better with your efforts?

In countries like India and Great Britain, social position depends on birth as well as on possessions.  In America, if you're rich, that's royalty enough.

Dividing humanity into winners and losers has resulted in the dehumanization of the working class.  They are viewed by management more or less as things, cogs in a wheel.   Management strives to pay workers the least amount they can get away with.  Corporate profits soar; working class wages remain stagnant.  It is a national disgrace that the wealthy--and Congress is dominated by green privilege--refuse to raise the minimum wage, which hasn't kept up with inflation for years, even though the monetary gains of elites have outpaced it by many percentage points.

Green privilege differs from white privilege in at least one important aspect.  All racism is bad, but not all green privilege is bad.  That the talented and innovative are paid better might not be fair, but it is justifiable.  Without the incentive of wealth, many professionals wouldn't have worked so hard to achieve.  Many of their innovations have benefited all of us.  For instance, inventors, many of whom are a lot smarter and more talented than I am, have developed computers, the internet, word processing applications, etc, all of which have made my life more efficient and more enjoyable.  The talented deserve their higher wages.  Serious problems arise, however, when things get out of balance.

Green privilege is out of hand.  59% of the profits since 2008 have been appropriated by the wealthiest one percent. Another national disgrace!

It is not a question of redistribution, it is a question of justice.  Justice demands that anyone who is willing to work must receive a living wage.  More than that: everyone deserves health care, access to at least adequate schools, a safe environment, and decent housing.  (Housing that meets the minimum requirements of decency can be quite simple.)

Green privilege and white privilege are independent variables; when they combine, however, the effect is especially pernicious.  Have you noticed that nearly all black victims of police brutality come from the working class?  A black member of the elite, say a lawyer or a doctor, is sometimes harassed by the police on racial grounds, despite the former's fancy car, (white privilege), but such incidents occur more rarely than those involving working-class blacks, (green privilege).

Sometimes green privilege trumps white privilege.  Do you think O.J. Simpson would have been acquitted if he hadn't been rich and famous?  A sad, comic incident happened a few years ago when Henry Louis Gates Jr., the renowned Harvard professor, attempted to force open a jammed door of his residence.  Someone reported this as a potential burglary in progress.  A white police officer responded.  (Later, a commission determined that both parties were at fault, but that's not the point here.)  Gates, justifiably angered by being confronted by the police at his own door, suspected racism--and who can blame him?  But what he said was significant: "Do you know who you're messin' with?"  In effect he was telling the cop that he, the professor, a member of the elite, was somebody, while he, the police officer, a member of the working class, was nobody. (Gates is better than this, however; what is said in a fit of anger should not be used to judge a person.  On the other hand, the confrontation is a clear indication that green privilege is part of Gates's identity.)

The current waging of class warfare by the upper classes, whether done consciously or unconsciously,  continues to have a devastating effect--on us all, but especially on the working-class and the poor. The evil of racism, bad as it is, is not the only major problem in America.  Unbalanced green privilege is a very serious threat to our democracy, all the more because it is insidious and insufficiently acknowledged.



Red Privilege

Red privilege, which has wide support in America, has caused millions of deaths.  Red privilege is the belief that America is the best country in the world and has the right to impose its will on every nation.  Both political parties are guilty of red privilege.  Michelle Obama, for instance, in her effective Democratic Convention speech, correctly stated that America does not need to be made great again, as Trump asserts; it is already a great nation.  Granted; she should have stopped there, however.  She went on to assert that America is the "greatest country in the world".  In military power yes, but its lack of universal health insurance, its widespread  poverty and inequality, etc. make the claim somewhat dubious.  Later on that same night, Vice President Joe Biden, in a very stentorian voice, claimed that "America owns the finish line," implying that if the world as a whole hasn't yet acknowledged American supremacy, they had better.

The Republicans, as one might expect, are far worse.  They denounce President Obama for "leading from behind," which, I assume, means  trying diplomacy and coalition-building before resorting to force.  The Republicans demand an increase in military spending, even though the United States spends more on its military than all the major military powers combined.  The Republican view, shared by many, is that America is an island of good in a sea of evil; the sea needs to be patrolled and the sharks need to be eliminated.  

The belief in American exceptionalism has not had a benign effect on our neighbors.  (A Mexican adage is as follows: "Pity Mexico--So far from God and so close to the United States!)  A belief in manifest destiny, that is, that a continent dominated by European immigrants was God's will, turned the immorality of ethnically cleansing Indians from the best land into a supposed virtue, another example of God's chosen people displacing godless Canaanites.  

The list of American interventionism is long.  The Philippines and the brutal war that followed; blatant intervention in South American and Central American politics that often entailed the propping up of brutal dictators; the disastrous and unnecessary war in Vietnam during which thousands upon thousand died--this, unfortunately is only a partial list.

In recent times, red privilege resulted in one of the greatest blunders of American policy ever: the invasion of Iraq.  Remember what Cheney and Bush said?  In a few months, the Iraqis would be waving American flags, as American troops, their liberators, passed by.  Not exactly how things have turned out.

The tenets of red privilege, namely, that the rest of the world consists of cultural inferiors that need to be Americanized, often by military force, is still very much with us.

America is the foremost military power on earth.  In the modern world, the benefits of military force, are, however, moot.  Did the bombings of Vietnamese  and Iraqi cities turn them into Hollywood imitations of Normal, Illinois?  Have those two disastrous interventions made America safer?  Have trillions of dollars been spent for nothing?

The evil Nazi regime was, in a way, a gift to America.  Its defeat assured that America became the greatest power on earth.  

Since the fifties, however, the Chinese and Indians, among inhabitants of other nations, have decided that they deserve the benefits of modernity as well.  They are not willing to be footnotes to American history. This trend will not be reversed, no matter how much is spent on America's military.

Red privilege is thus a variant of white and green privilege.  America is the richest nation.  America is the best nation.  America must rule. 

The belief in American supremacy is as pleasing to the world as is the belief of white supremacy is to minorities.  

Red privilege cannot last.  International cooperation, however, can.  No, I am not naive--America needs to be able to defend itself--the world is seething with resentment and willingness to act out grievances with force and with acts of terror. 

Americans have every right to be proud of their country and its glorious Constitution.  The line between just pride and unjust arrogance is, however, often a thin one. Red privilege, another word for American hubris, tends to encourage politicians to opt for folly over pragmatism.  Just what is not needed!



Conclusion

We have discussed three cultural variables that can act independently and in combination to produce mild to severe negative influences on American life and on the well-being of the rest of the world's population as well.  The harm white privilege does to minorities is much in the news; the harms done by the other two privileges are much less widely acknowledged.  The purpose of this article is not to dilute the problem of racism; my intent is to bring to the readers' attention two additional problems, so that, with effort and non-violent struggle, all three false privileges can be turned into the one true privilege we all share, Americans and non-Americans alike, our common humanity.