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Whip(lash) It!
While I haven't seen the movie Whiplash, two articles about it recently caught my attention.
The first is by New Yorker film critic (and apparent jazz aficionado), Richard Brody who writes, "The movie’s very idea of jazz is a grotesque and ludicrous caricature."
The second is an interview with esteemed jazz and studio drummer, Peter Erskine who summarizes it thusly: "I'm disappointed that any viewer of the film will not see the joy of music-making that's almost always a part of large-ensemble rehearsals and performances. Musicians make music because they LOVE music. None of that is really apparent in the film, in my opinion."
Having played in many ensembles over the years, both large and small, I can definitely attest to this idea: music-making SHOULD be fun! And I certainly haven't been doing it for the money - I've been doing it because I LOVE it!
In their respective reviews, both Brody and Erskine call BS on the JK Simmons' teacher/band director character, Terence Fletcher.
According to Erskine:
As someone who dropped out of band his sophomore year of high school partly due to having a "jerk" band director, I completely relate. Zig Kanstul, our band director, would always find new and exciting ways of telling us we were shit musicians. While his opinion was probably right, it didn't make it right to say those things, and it certainly didn't inspire me to be a better trumpet player. Maybe he never heard the expression I tell my students now, "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar!"
According to Brody, not only is Fletcher a tyrant that "hazes [Andrew, his student] with petty rules that are meant to teach military-style obedience rather than musical intelligence," he justifies his techniques by embellishing the oft-told story of Charlie Parker getting a cymbal thrown at him to suggest that Joe Jones (the drummer) was trying to decapitate Parker. As Erskine notes:
While this was a pivotal moment for Charlie Parker as a musician, Brody says the movie completely misses the lessons he learned:
Interestingly, Erskine notes that Andrew's "winning" drum solo performance at the end of the movie is very old-fashioned:
Brody also addresses the one line I knew from watching the trailer (and, incidentally has, so far, put me off of seeing the movie): the idea that "the worst thing you can tell a young artist is 'Good job,' because self-satisfaction and complacency are the enemies of artistic progress."
Indeed, as a practicing musician, I know all too well the self-loathing that accompanies a performance I deem personally sub-par. But I also understand that playing music is a journey and that there's always more to learn and improve upon, regardless of how good or bad a performance may be to me or others.
As a teacher, I've often looked to Peter Johnston's book, Choice Words, as a guide for inspiring students through my language to not only take ownership of their learning, but to feel empowered to imagine new possibilities for him or herself as a life-long learner. One of Johnston's mantras is Praise the work, not the student. In other words, teachers should say, "Good job" or "Nice work" because it praises the process and honors their effort, rather than praising the student with, "Good boy/girl," since its opposite implies that the student is somehow a "bad" person.
Ultimately, as Erskine says, a music teacher's job is...
At the end of his piece, Brody makes his strongest criticism: the movie is not even about music - it's about authority:
Ouch! Indeed, Erskine notes:
Sadly, it sounds like these are far from the only shortcomings of the film. From "a drummer crawling out of a major car wreck and then somehow managing to get himself on-stage to play, bleeding and injured," to Flecher testing his student's ability to play a tempo (Erskine: "Give me 4 beats, not just two -- YOU don't even know the tempo with that kind of a count-off, Mr. Band Director."), both Brody and Erskine agree that the movie is desperately lacking.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go practice!!
The first is by New Yorker film critic (and apparent jazz aficionado), Richard Brody who writes, "The movie’s very idea of jazz is a grotesque and ludicrous caricature."
The second is an interview with esteemed jazz and studio drummer, Peter Erskine who summarizes it thusly: "I'm disappointed that any viewer of the film will not see the joy of music-making that's almost always a part of large-ensemble rehearsals and performances. Musicians make music because they LOVE music. None of that is really apparent in the film, in my opinion."
Having played in many ensembles over the years, both large and small, I can definitely attest to this idea: music-making SHOULD be fun! And I certainly haven't been doing it for the money - I've been doing it because I LOVE it!
In their respective reviews, both Brody and Erskine call BS on the JK Simmons' teacher/band director character, Terence Fletcher.
According to Erskine:
A conductor or bandleader will only get good results if he or she shows as much love or enthusiasm as the discipline or toughness they dole out. Being a jerk is, ultimately, self-defeating in music education: for one thing, the band will not respond well; secondly, such bandleaders are anathema to the other educators who ultimately wind up acting as judges in competitive music festivals -- such bands will never win (the judges will see to that).
As someone who dropped out of band his sophomore year of high school partly due to having a "jerk" band director, I completely relate. Zig Kanstul, our band director, would always find new and exciting ways of telling us we were shit musicians. While his opinion was probably right, it didn't make it right to say those things, and it certainly didn't inspire me to be a better trumpet player. Maybe he never heard the expression I tell my students now, "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar!"
According to Brody, not only is Fletcher a tyrant that "hazes [Andrew, his student] with petty rules that are meant to teach military-style obedience rather than musical intelligence," he justifies his techniques by embellishing the oft-told story of Charlie Parker getting a cymbal thrown at him to suggest that Joe Jones (the drummer) was trying to decapitate Parker. As Erskine notes:
The misrepresentation of the Jo Jones throwing the cymbal at Charlie Parker's feet anecdote may well lead people to thinking that Jo Jones did indeed, as JK Simmons' character avers, try to decapitate Charlie Parker at that epochal jam session in Kansas City where a very real Charlie Parker attempted to play some of his double-time / new harmony improvisation and more or less flubbed it. Papa Jo eventually tossed a cymbal towards Charlie Parker's young feet in a "gonging" motion to get him off the bandstand. Jazz masters could be tough, but the movie gets that story all wrong.
While this was a pivotal moment for Charlie Parker as a musician, Brody says the movie completely misses the lessons he learned:
Brody (10/13/14): Here’s what Parker didn’t do in the intervening year: sit alone in his room and work on making his fingers go faster. He played music, thought music, lived music. In “Whiplash,” the young musicians don’t play much music. Andrew isn’t in a band or a combo, doesn’t get together with his fellow-students and jam—not in a park, not in a subway station, not in a café, not even in a basement. He doesn’t study music theory, not alone and not (as Parker did) with his peers. There’s no obsessive comparing of recordings and styles, no sense of a wide-ranging appreciation of jazz history—no Elvin Jones, no Tony Williams, no Max Roach, no Ed Blackwell. In short, the musician’s life is about pure competitive ambition—the concert band and the exposure it provides—and nothing else.
Interestingly, Erskine notes that Andrew's "winning" drum solo performance at the end of the movie is very old-fashioned:
If the film takes place "now," any drummer playing like that at a competitive jazz festival --especially one in New York City -- would get a cymbal thrown at their feet by the ghost of Papa Jo Jones, or I'd do it for him.
Brody also addresses the one line I knew from watching the trailer (and, incidentally has, so far, put me off of seeing the movie): the idea that "the worst thing you can tell a young artist is 'Good job,' because self-satisfaction and complacency are the enemies of artistic progress."
Brody (10/13/14): There’s nothing wrong with “Good job,” because a real artist won’t be gulled or lulled into self-satisfaction by it: real artists are hard on themselves, curious to learn what they don’t know and to push themselves ahead.
Indeed, as a practicing musician, I know all too well the self-loathing that accompanies a performance I deem personally sub-par. But I also understand that playing music is a journey and that there's always more to learn and improve upon, regardless of how good or bad a performance may be to me or others.
As a teacher, I've often looked to Peter Johnston's book, Choice Words, as a guide for inspiring students through my language to not only take ownership of their learning, but to feel empowered to imagine new possibilities for him or herself as a life-long learner. One of Johnston's mantras is Praise the work, not the student. In other words, teachers should say, "Good job" or "Nice work" because it praises the process and honors their effort, rather than praising the student with, "Good boy/girl," since its opposite implies that the student is somehow a "bad" person.
Ultimately, as Erskine says, a music teacher's job is...
To inspire his or her students to get the MOST out of music, by GIVING the most to music. To, yes, inspire and instill a sense of discipline and responsibility, but to show students the rewards of concentration and playing well and working as a team.
At the end of his piece, Brody makes his strongest criticism: the movie is not even about music - it's about authority:
Certainly, the movie isn’t “about” jazz; it’s “about” abuse of power. Fletcher could as easily be demanding sex or extorting money as hurling epithets and administering smacks...
Ouch! Indeed, Erskine notes:
I can't imagine [USC Dean of Music] Rob Cutietta putting up with an ounce of the behavior portrayed in the film. But, like I said: it's fantasy, it's Hollywood.
Sadly, it sounds like these are far from the only shortcomings of the film. From "a drummer crawling out of a major car wreck and then somehow managing to get himself on-stage to play, bleeding and injured," to Flecher testing his student's ability to play a tempo (Erskine: "Give me 4 beats, not just two -- YOU don't even know the tempo with that kind of a count-off, Mr. Band Director."), both Brody and Erskine agree that the movie is desperately lacking.
Brody (10/13/14): There’s nothing in the film to indicate that Andrew has any originality in his music. What he has, and what he ultimately expresses, is chutzpah. That may be very helpful in readying Andrew for a job on television. “Whiplash” honors neither jazz nor cinema; it’s a work of petty didacticism that shows off petty mastery, and it feeds the sort of minor celebrity that Andrew aspires to.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go practice!!
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