Friday, July 28, 2023

Black Music Month 2023: Art and loss

This is not about people pouring their grief into art, though that is a thing that happens. 

I'm having a hard time knowing what to write about it, probably because I have not come to any conclusions myself.

It started with a Twitter conversation that was probably related to the writer's strike, and the work that goes into writing. Someone referenced a writer who only writes one book in their entire life.

The response that caught my eye (and I wish I could find it now) was that even if they only published one book, that was not all the writing that they did.

Truth.

Someone else had made a point about family releasing things after the death of an artist that would not necessarily have been desired by the artist. I believe they made a reference to the large vaults of material recorded by Prince.

I had just read The Rose That Grew From Concrete by Tupac Shakur. That is a book of poems written by Shakur as part of a writing group. 

They are not good.

They aren't terrible, but the rhythms are off (which would never have been an issue if he were recording them) and he was much younger at the time of writing. They are a curiosity. As such it is nice that you can see the handwriting as well as typed versions.

I remember reading that it was a transparent grab for cash. Maybe, but I thought I detected grief (to which I am overly sensitive), and also a desire to show another side. He was a loyal friend, and cared about relationships and people and had a complexity beyond the gangsta rap side.

I sympathize with that, but I think the people most likely to read it will not need much convincing.

However, Prince is relevant, not just because I have read three books about him, but because one of them refers to a recording that was amazing, and deleted as soon as it was done for being too personal.

That's one way to avoid the issue.

More recently, I saw another post, with a musician saying he had told his band that if he dies (he has had some health problems), that he wants the current music released, but he had felt differently at a different time.

The conversation that started led to some people sharing their love and ambivalence for Jeff Buckley's posthumous release, Sketches For My Sweetheart, The Drunk. Would he have wanted it released? And yet, it means so much to them.

I don't know. My tendency to want to know and hear and experience everything conflicts with my respect for others. I am a little sad that Jane Austen asked her sister to burn her letters after her death, but since she did ask, it is right that Cassandra honored it.

I do see the value in considering things that might happen, and how you might feel. Sure, things can change at any time, and your predictions can be wrong, but we learn things by asking, and that has value.

I wish for a world where art is safe and revealing yourself is safe, but that you still aren't forced too. I also wish for a world where it is possible to be secure enough financially that artistic decisions don't get influenced by desperation and greed.

I wish comfort for the bereaved.

And, this is starting to touch on another area of grief (and anger) for myself, so I'll get back to that on Tuesday.

For a few other connections for the month, one story featured in the Muscle Shoals Documentary is that the recordings the band made there were not initially released due to a conflict with getting radios to accept the longer songs. Then, the crash happened. Those sessions were the source of Skynard's First and... Last

I was distracted by the band's apparent inability to play without a Confederate flag in the background, but I wouldn't wish that crash on anyone.

From The Wrecking Crew, one of the names that kept coming up was Mike Melvoin. Because I was reading about Prince, I kept thinking that sounded familiar. Yes, esteemed pianist and keyboardist (and past Recording Academy president) Mike Melvoin was the father of guitarist Wendy Melvoin, and also (Prince's former fiancee and) singer and songwriter Susannah Melvoin, and Jonathan Melvoin, who was the touring keyboardist for The Smashing Pumpkins at the time of his death. 

I had really only known about Wendy before, but that was a really musical family, and one not unacquainted with grief. Jonathan's death ruptured some relationships.

Back to Prince, he has his own conundrum with posthumous releases. With his perfectionism, surely if he didn't want things released he had a point. With his unusually high productivity, I can't imagine it would have even been possible to release everything he did. Those were never the only factors, as contracts were a big issue.

Mainly I see how much there was to him, with generosity and selfishness and celebration and grief, and I wish he could have had longer to sort things out and heal, but living longer doesn't guarantee that.

I wish him well.

And I wish you well too. 

I will write a bit more about the loss of Tupac Shakur (and Biggie Smalls), in a different post.

Related books:

The Rose That Grew From Concrete by Tupac Shakur
I Would Die 4 U: Why Prince Became an Icon by Toure
The Most Beautiful: My Life with Prince by Mayte Garcia
The Beautiful Ones by Prince with Dan Piepenbring

No comments: