Lacking any large arid regions of its own, the West's experience with deserts has come only through the lens of other cultures. Whether in the plains of Andalusia, the dunes of southwest Asia, or the pueblos of the American southwest, our view of deserts is tinged with a hint of the exotic. This is obvious with regards to the camel-- how else could such a simple, well-adapted, useful animal be seen as so primitive and foreign?-- but it also holds when we look at western music's portrayal of deserts and their people.
The phrygian modes of Iberian music have lent a 'Spanish Tinge' to jazz, a sound that melts into the semitone scales of the Maghreb and the familiarly stereotyped drums of Africa. Bombastic Arab marches contrast with the honest melodies sung by herders. Epic soundtracks complement the sun-splashed monuments of Utah, and even the tundra gets the balalaika. In western music, the desert is at once overpowering, massive, inspiringly romantic, and simple, foreign, and honest. I like it.
See, for example, Rimsky-Korsakov's Sheherazade, with dissonant harmonies resolving into an unforgettably grand theme. The classic soundtrack to Lawrence of Arabia plays around with the "Turkish March" made famous in Beethoven's 9th Symphony after revealing the famous motif appropriate for its beturbaned hero (note that John William's love theme from Raiders of the Lost Ark, set in arid Egypt, relies on the same hackneyed exotic chord changes as Lawrence's tune). Its composer, Maurice Jarre, exhibits his talent for endlessly repeating a schmaltzy romantic theme in another desert movie, Dr. Zhivago. Elmer Bernstein's rousing The Magnificent Seven and Gabriel Yarre's beautiful but tedious The English Patient show the same trends. And then there is Caravan.
If you can think of more, please send them along!
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Music appropriate for desert walks
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