Stravinsky supposedly once said:”Lesser artists borrow, great artists steal.”
The recent decision to award Marvin Gaye’s family several million dollars over copyright violations by Robin Thicke and Pharrell Williams in their recent hit “Blurred Lines” has sparked a lot of discussion about the border between imitation and plagiarism in the music world, a “blurred line” if there ever was one. There are lots of examples in the classical world, which I’ll get to in a minute.
Pop music is full of ripoffs – the way the business works, it’s almost inevitable. There have been many lawsuits like this recent one – artists like Johnny Cash and the Beatles were accused of theft, and in my personal favorite, John Fogerty was sued for ripping off his own band, Creedence Clearwater Revival!
“When asked if he was present for the creation of ‘Blurred Lines,’ Thicke replied: ‘I was present. Obviously, I sang it. I had to be there…To be honest, that’s the only part where – I was high on vicodin and alcohol when I showed up at the studio…I wanted some credit for this big hit. But the reality is, is that Pharrell had the beat and he wrote almost every single part of the song.'”
So, in summary, Mr. Thicke went with a combination of “I didn’t do it, but I wanted credit for it because it made me a lot of money” and “I was high, so I actually couldn’t have done it” – an impressive pairing indeed. There are lots of blurred lines here – makes me think of this one:
But wait, it gets better – when an attorney for the Gaye family played a mash-up of the Gaye original, “Got To Give It Up,” and the Williams/Thicke opus, to show their similarities, Thicke protested:
“It’s so hard to listen to it…This is [like] Stanley Kubrick’s movie Clockwork Orange. Where he has to sit there and watch…Mozart would be rolling in his grave right now.”
Well, at least Mozart has been avenged – I know I feel better.
Anyway, there’s a long history of imitation and borrowing in classical music, going back at least to the days of Palestrina and Josquin writing masses based on popular or sacred melodies of the time. Bach updated (and improved) pieces by Vivaldi, though of course he did it openly. Our whistleblower Stravinsky used Russian folk melodies in the Rite of Spring (and denied it).
Brahms’s famous Variations on a Theme of Haydn – the theme isn’t by Haydn. Did Brahms know? Maybe, maybe not. In any case, composers routinely would put the names of more famous colleagues on pieces to help them sell – the great violinist Fritz Kreisler was notorious for it.
Now this is a more impressive kind of deception – instead of simply ripping someone else off, you have to imitate them convincingly – not too easy! One of my favorite cellist-composers, Gaspar Cassadó, was really good at it – here’s his very impressive counterfeit “Schubert” piece (played by a very good cellist from Cassadó’s era I confess I’d never heard of, Feodor Luzanov):
To me, this is artful and respectful imitation, even if Cassadó blurred some lines of his own in putting Schubert’s name on it! Perhaps Mr. Thicke could learn a lesson from Cassadó – if you’re going to mislead people, do it skillfully! Also, consult your PR manager and/or lawyer before testifying in open court.
In any case, really good imitation is something to enjoy – I’ll leave you with my new favorite example. A few weeks ago, I was driving to a rehearsal and listening to the radio – an old Ella Fitzgerald record came on and I almost crashed the car – here’s why:
“People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.” – Rogers Hornsby
I normally write about the classical music world and its evolution, but today I just want to share a fun story about the best day I ever had at work as a classical musician, thanks to baseball, and especially Ernie Banks.
Over the weekend, Banks died at the age of 83. Known as “Mr. Cub,” he was the most beloved player in the history of the Chicago Cubs, and a great ambassador for both the team and the sport. He was well-known as one of the most cheerful people around, and his enthusiasm is at the center of this story.
Shortly after taking office in 2001, President George W. Bush invited the entire Hall of Fame over to lunch at the White House, which frankly, is exactly what I would have done if elected President. At the time, I was in the “President’s Own” Marine Chamber Orchestra, which exists to play at the White House. Needless to say, the orchestra was excited (at least those of us who loved baseball), and there was fierce competition among the wind and brass players to get assigned to that job.
On the big day, we were reminded not to take pictures, and not to be distracted from our work. The first part was easy to enforce, while the second was impossible – I will only say that I have never played the cello as badly as I did that day, and I won’t apologize for it. I was in the presence of Reggie Jackson, for goodness sake!
All through the afternoon, we spotted players we loved and missed notes by the bushel. When I saw Sandy Koufax, I nearly dropped my bow. I got to chat with Phil Niekro, the great knuckleball pitcher, and saw Yankee legends like Whitey Ford and Yogi Berra, too.
But the highlight of the afternoon was when Stan Musial pulled out his harmonica, and we accompanied him on “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” Well, accompanied isn’t quite the right word – he only knew it in the key of D and we had it in the key of G, so we just played it in both keys. Stravinsky would have been proud.
What made it work was Ernie Banks – he got right behind our conductor and started waving his arms like a helicopter gone beserk – he was having a great time, and it was one of the most hilarious things I’ve ever seen. Everyone started singing, in several other keys besides the 2 we were already using. A perfect ending to a great day. Thanks, Mr. Cub.
The other night, I stopped at my local UDF, a chain of convenience stores and gas stations. As I walked out, I heard a Beethoven violin sonata coming from the speakers hanging by the front door. They play classical music to keep people from loitering outside, because, really, who could stand to listen to that? I’ve run into this in other places (you may have, too – please post them in the comments!).
Apparently, this practice has a scientific basis – an article in the Toledo Blade explains the effectiveness of “audio aversion.”
Here’s a helpful explanation from a Columbus, Ohio resident: “There’s something about baroque music that macho wannabe-gangster types hate. At the very least, it has a calming effect.”
Wonderful.
If you had any questions about our art’s need for a re-branding, this should convince you! First of all, to rebut this idea that classical music is “relaxing” – I offer you a playlist of the LEAST calm concert pieces I could think of, including a very famous work by Vivaldi, who is often mistakenly put in that “relaxing” bin.
Now, to the UDF issue – here’s what I propose. If you live near one (or another place that does this sort of thing), go get yourself a milkshake and stand outside listening. Let’s turn this thing on its head and stick around for the music, instead of being chased away by it. Or bring the music on the playlist and play it in your car with the windows down to offer an antidote to all that “relaxation.” Who knows, maybe we can get UDF to include Bartok and Stravinsky in their rotation, or at least persuade some customers to give classical music a second thought. Thoughts? Please post your comments!
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