Music Appreciation

Fantasia 2000 - Rhapsody in Blue by R174

If you haven't experienced the joy of middle school Music Appreciation class, allow me to explain the movies Fantasia and Fantasia 2000. The original came out in 1940, but, as stories tend to go, we really begin a little earlier, in 1936. Walt Disney was looking for a way to boost the popularity of a certain mouse, and to do so he decided to feature him in The Magician's Apprentice, a cartoon short based off of the poem of the same name written by Johann Wolfgang van Goethe set to the tune by Paul Dukas, also of the same name. However, unlike earlier work by Disney such as Silly Symphonies, he desired to go beyond mere slapstick by the composition of cartoon and classical music. To that end, he sought out a well-known conductor to record the music, for extra prestige. As things proceeded, he realized that The Magician's Apprentice had no hope of recouping its already sizable budget by itself, and the originally singular piece was adjoined by several others of a similar vein, together creating a concert (and movie) now known as Fantasia. In 1999, a sequel was created with all new shorts (The Magician's Apprentice being carried on as well), featuring the piece above, Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin.

The piece itself, though called by Gershwin "a musical kaleidoscope of America," is widely interpreted as a musical portrait of New York City. The short expands on this, set in the 1930s, focusing on the interweaving and simultaneously completely independent stories of four different people as they live in the Depression-era city. A little girl searches the city for something to do while her parents are at work when all she really wants is to spend time with them. A red-haired man is tired of being dragged along by his wife and her spoiled lapdog. A blue guy is out of money and desperately wants to work. An African-American dude is not interested by his construction job and would rather be playing as a jazz drummer. George Gershwin and his... prominent chin even show up for a few seconds. Disney being Disney, the stories all culminate in a happy ending after using the topography and feelings of New York City to tie together the lives of four complete strangers in much the same way Doctorow ties together the independent stories present in Ragtime.

The truth is, in Ragtime, there's so much going on between so many different people it's hard to keep everything straight. Why do we even need to know about Pierpont Morgan's secret sarcophagus or Harry Houdini's mommy issues? Why did I bother prefacing this discussion with one about a musical animated short? Just as it's fun to watch and write about Rhapsody in Blue, so too is there an element of Doctorow's infinite power as author to make the characters dance about as he pleases. But, it's important to keep in mind that the stories do comment on each other and interact as well. Houdini's "escapology," as he calls it, both is prefaced by the notion of upward mobility and the American Dream  as well as prefaces Harry K. Thaw's escape from prison and Evelyn Nesbit's escape from her normal life. Henry Ford is the negative image of Coalhouse Walker in demeanor, stature, and attitude. Rhapsody in Blue and Ragtime serve as parallel images of how history works: not a single line from an archduke's assassination to war to revenge-seeking Germany to war again but a careful interplay of economic forces, cultural feelings, political maneuvering, overarching themes, and small and bizarrely specific individual stories that collectively attempt to tell the story of the world.

This flighty narration is what appeals to me the most in Ragtime (as well as in Rhapsody in Blue). It allows us to follow the zany exploits of a wide cast of characters as well as process the variegated emotions and opinions spanning America at the time. History's tentacles cover far and wide, beyond just one story or one piece of music, to ideas and powers crossing countries and continents. Isn't that something we can all appreciate?