Revisiting Thunderball

I have no intention of reviewing every James Bond movie, but after watching Goldfinger with a less than complimentary eye, I became curious about other older James Bond flicks. Are they all as poorly acted with cliched lines, superficial delivery, weak plot, and a general lack of action? Are they full of predictable puns and eye-rolling sexual innuendos? I was convinced I would not enjoy Thunderball and would hereafter reject all early Bond attempts. In fact, I had about decided to revisit the Ian Fleming books and give up on the movies.

As the show began, I was immediately drawn into the world of espionage and intrigue, enhanced by some of the most striking music I have heard from this genre. While the story itself is not necessarily new, a powerful organization called Spectre seeking money or it will blow up part of the world with nuclear bombs, it is handled realistically with a combination of investigative techniques and personal infiltration of the organization. With an excellent balance of action, repose, reflection, and determination, Thunderball delivers a solid punch both physically and emotionally.

Aside from the occasional pun, after shooting a harpoon into an advancing villain, Bond says "He got the point," and the too many young, attractive women (is there a place for women over the age of 30 in a Bond movie?), the acting is solid and the lines are delivered with realism and honest concern. Sean Connery seemed sincere in his quest for truth and to complete the mission plus having compassion for those in plight. Admittedly, the confusing and oddly stilted underwater battle scene was not really believable, and the absurd speeding of the action was silly and unnecessary, making the movie seem too long and predictable at times; yet the film moved well and the exciting fights included guns, fists, and various weapons.

For me, the best thing about Thunderball is the music. It is a wildly inventive score requiring extreme range, technical, and tone demands from all the players. The music enhances and improves the scenes, catapulting John Barry's score into one of the finest of the spy genre. There is no question that a weak score can ruin a movie, but in this case, the score is almost stronger than the film itself.

In spite of the flaws, I thoroughly enjoyed Thunderball and place it in much higher category than Goldfinger in terms of its story, acting, and cinematography. It is worth watching and Bond fans should consider it as one of the best. Mention should be made of the intense and exciting performance of Tom Jones in the main title, setting the tone for an engaging and intense movie.

Movie Review: Quantum of Solace

Being a James Bond fan, having read all the books and seen all the movies, I felt compelled, maybe even required to attend the latest fare titled Quantum of Solace. Like everyone else, I was originally cautious with the choice of Daniel Craig as the new James Bond. He was an unknown, nearing middle age, and somehow not as strikingly handsome as previous Bond actors. His ruddy, earthy look and demeanor does not seem as comfortable in the refined arena of high finance, sophisticated parties, and elite environments. Yet, in contrast, Roger Moore, whose appearance is nearly opposite to Craig's, never looked entirely at ease with the action scenes. Moore's refinement and sophistication somehow prevented him from getting his hands dirty, giving his performance a lofty disconnect from the brutal requirements needed from a spy of Bond's stature.

Daniel Craig, in contrast, performs admirably in quality social situations, yet even in the most relaxed, elite world, one gets the feeling Bond is always ready for action and absolutely committed to reaching his goals. Also, what has changed in the new Bond thrillers is the silly emphasis on sexual puns and sly, not-so-clever humor found in earlier Bond movies. A recent watching of "Goldfinger" reminded me of the strange smooth hero (who is really not so heroic) approach that we came to accept as James Bond. For example when the main female character, Miss Galore, introduces herself, he says, "I must be dreaming." In "Goldfinger" the villain doesn't seem all that bad, and the good guy, James Bond, appears to be apathetic about danger but primarily concerned with having a relationship with the lady.

Whereas in Quantum of Solace we find action from a serious James Bond, who although not perfect, accomplishes his mission in spite of the odds and the obstacles placed in his path. The filming and story are fast-paced with an energy not found in earlier Bond movies and action that borders on the impossible but never actually crosses that line. Without resorting to silly puns and inane, pointless humor, Quantum is edge of the seat viewing and bad guy versus good guy polarization. It is an escape, feel good kind of film that does not disappoint. As in other Bonds, we are treated once again to pretty ladies, villains, guns, and clever conclusions to the problems presented, plus the ongoing concern from Bond's authority figures that James is too autonomous. What is very different, however, is the general serious tone of the movie and the ubiquitous, unrelenting dedication to accomplishing the mission.

On the negative side, the story is a bit difficult to follow, perhaps requiring a viewing of Casino Royale prior to seeing Quantum, and the filming is almost dizzying in its quick alteration of setting changes particularly in the action scenes. Plus the viewer has to question how much punishment Bond can handle and keep coming back strong.

This latest Bond adventure, like many great stories in literature, can be viewed on several emotional levels. One of the most artistically stunning moments is the Tosca scene, a glorious opera by Giuseppe Verdi, where gunfire, death, and destruction are accompanied by lovely singing and melodious, tonal music that causes an unsettling sense of confusion when violence and beauty are blended together. In addition, there is the inevitable personal motivation for revenge level which includes almost extreme pain and death, the geo-political "save the world" level, and another level that is difficult to pinpoint. It is a dimension dating back to Homer's Odyssey that finds fruition in Shakespeare and onward to McMurtry's Lonesome Dove, and even Cormac McCarthy's masterpiece, The Road. It is the dimension of destiny or calling. James Bond now has a serious and relentless destiny to make the world a better place and stop the evil tyranny that lies just below the surface of existence. Bond seeks a moment of peace but is forced to use violence to create the moment.

This is a film worth seeing that can be viewed on many levels. A fine achievement in terms of acting, story, filming, and music. I look forward to many more James Bond features with Daniel Craig.

The Gift of Music

Logically and spiritually I realize that Christmas is about the birth of God's son, Jesus Christ; and yet, for me as a child growing up in a musical home, Christmas was definitely enhanced by the music. I grew up in a musical home and almost cannot imagine a home in another way. The sound of the piano was nearly as constant as hearing instruments, trombones, horns, or the stereo, and if that were not enough, you could always hear somebody whistling, humming, or singing. And the music ranged from Beethoven to Mozart to Elton John to jazz, hymns, choruses, folk songs, and the inevitable Gospel "classic." It was as though we could not get enough music and the curiosity about music was infinite, comprehensive, and infectious.

But before I get too astray in my explanation of our musical world, let me return to Christmas. There is something about the Christmas season, with its emphases on festivity, food, fun, and family that begs for more music. While today's technology allows for an inundation of sound, including every elevator, store, barber shop, and automobile, and while some may argue that it is too much, try to imagine a world at Christmas without music. The season of Christmas is manifested in glorious music for all ages and all types of people. We depend on it, and we love it, for it reminds us of the many blessings that surround us, and it reminds us to reach out and bless others.

As a child growing up, we would sing, play, listen, and love the Christmas music that surrounded our lives. Now today, my children once again sing, play, listen, and love the Christmas music. And each Christmas eve, like the generation before, we read the Christmas story, sing Joy to the World, and open some gifts. We then thank each other, and we thank the Lord for the greatest gift of all, Jesus Christ. And I always go to bed and thank the Lord for another great and glorious gift--the gift of music.

Inspiration: the key to teaching

After reading a recent comment to an entry, I feel a need to respond with yet another essay on inspiration, communication, and connectivity.

With few exceptions, we do not live and cannot live in a vacuum with a one way ticket to a psychology or to the pathology of self-understanding. If our prime directive is to serve our own inherent selfishness by expending great energy in reflection on who we are and who we choose to be, then it stands to reason we will be less inclined and certainly less successful at connecting to people. Obviously, however, as Shakespeare said, one must "know thyself" and "to thine own self be true," but it is that knowledge, unless it is entirely self-serving (apologies to the Randians, but I just cannot accept your premise in its entirety) which in turn makes a person more effective in dealing with others. This brings me back to teaching.

While I have spent my career in music and am now in college administration, I believe that successful teaching does require inspiration, at least in some form or another. Yet I also am utilitarian enough to recognize that inspiration cannot shine forth, indeed almost cannot occur, without certain elements behind it, namely knowledge, skill, and passion.

Football is an American pastime and a general favorite topic of conversation. I spend several minutes per week involved in some sort of football discussion with a friend or acquaintance. A discussion on football can take many slants including referee complaints (boring), injury descriptions (gruesome), pity for losers (shared sorrow), joy for winners (shared happiness), projections for the future (ignorance), and elation over particular plays or players (usually I just nod at these). Discussions often jump from high school through college and onward to professional level and result in some sort of bonding and shared experience by those involved (mostly men it seems). From these discussions I have learned many things about football, and while I don't have the skill (I was very bad at it), I do have quite a bit of knowledge gained primarily through osmosis. But, in truth, while a good football game is exciting and fun, and I will always remain a Cincinnati Bengals fan (they will come back strong someday), I don't really have a passion for the game. It occupies very little of my emotional attention. Therefore I have little to offer others in terms of inspiration of football, and this is actually fortunate since there is plenty of passion for the game already in the world.

Without skill but with knowledge, I might be able to impart certain principles and be a mildly effective football teacher, but my lack of passion would most likely result in uninspired teaching perhaps with negative consequences of uninspired performers, or to put it another way, a losing team. Conversely, then, it seems to me that inspired teaching must have skill in the discipline (maybe this is not essential but certainly to be valued), knowledge of the discipline, and a passionate belief in its role in education and culture at large.

When we think back on those teachers who made the most impact on our lives and taught us the most, we recognize several essential qualities or characteristics that cannot be denied. Those people knew their subject matter, they had the skills to support their knowledge, and they were passionately committed to communicating that knowledge to those willing to learn and to listen. Perhaps the truly outstanding ones had one other essential tenant that came shining forth to cause what we now called inspired teaching: those people had and have a love of people.

I was recently reminded of the need to love people when I overheard a student say to someone else, "Why don't you love people as much as you love music." The greatest teachers I know have skill, have knowledge, have passion, and they love people. For without that love, their abilities turn inward and lack the connectivity, the level of communication that is absolutely required for successful education. In fact, to take it another step, I would posture that love of people is essential for success in nearly (notice my careful disclaimer!) all disciplines that involve connectivity. Inspiration comes from passion of the discipline and great teaching becomes even better when accompanied with a love of people. So I continue to develop my skill, my knowledge, and my passion but never to substitute those things with the required ingredient for success, that is love of people.

The Simple Joys of Book Collecting

I am an avid book man with limited financial resources to support my hobby. Yet, it does not stop me from constantly seeking books of all types, genres, shapes, even condition. Having written about my father's influence and my early love for particular authors' books, I won't expend much more energy on the past. Just know that I have moved from being a reader and collector of paperbacks to being more interested in hardback books.

I find myself walking into antique stores, pawn shops, even garage sales with the hope of finding that special book treasure that I must own (a misnomer since one can never truly own a book; rather, we are more likely caretakers of the books). The greatest pleasure for me is entering a used book store, many of which are dark, a little dusty, odorous, cluttered, unorganized (to be fair, it is nearly an impossible task to make a book store ordered), and start examining titles. Each store seems to emphasize a particular genre or type of book, most likely according to the interests of the owner. I enjoy the search, the quest, the exploration, the sense of adventure that accompanies my visits to bookstores. My pulse quickens when I think I see something I must have, and I relish the getting on the floor, pulling books out of the way so I can see the books behind the books that may have been hidden for years.

I love opening a book hoping to find a 1st edition, maybe even signed by the author! Or seeing a book I have never seen and learning something about it, its history, its writing style, its organization, and mostly its personality. For, you see, each book has a kind of personal distinction: from the binding, to the title page, to the publisher's information, to the table of contents, and finally the prose or narrative. Is it 1st person or 3rd person? Does it cover a short period of time or does it change time periods frequently? Is it factual or fiction or maybe a little of both (I am beginning to believe that even the boldest fiction cannot be entirely removed from reality or fact). All these factors and more make each book, no matter how insignificant, special with its own character and qualities.

And reading remains an important part of my life in that I cannot recall a time when I was not reading several books at once usually with one in particular that captured most of my attention. Couple this devotion to reading with my tendency to get immersed in one particular author and suddenly I find myself committed to acquiring every book by certain authors. And there I was driving through a city out of state, looking for bookstores when I stopped and visited a dark, rather musty bookstore in a bad part of town. After a quick look to get the "lay of the land," I began my closer inspection of the contents. I found a few books that had to be in my collection, but nothing really substantial. Finally, out of time, but wanting to do one more quick look, I moved several books out of the way and found a treasure. It was a 1st edition, 1st printing of a book in mint condition. The owner wanted $83 for it which I was happy to give knowing the book was worth close to $500.

I left happy with my find, feeling as though I had explored, conquered, and somehow improved my lot and my territory! All rather silly emotions to a non-book person, but those who love books will understand the feeling. Onward to future books, more reading, and more dedication to the search. Ah, the simple joys of life.

Music education: teaching and performing

While it does have natural beauty, knowing more about a rose, how to fertilize it, how to treat it, and how to prune it, lifts the rose to a higher stature both for the viewer and for the owner. One can appreciate the beauty without knowing the struggle that went into it, but knowing more provides a depth of respect that has greater meaning. Such is the process of education, thorns and all!

I have enjoyed my career as a performing musician with a music education background who has a love for teaching. Some have expressed surprised that I have worked to maintain a certain performance level while being a committed music educator. In many ways, both historically and pragmatically, this is not necessarily unusual, for to teach well requires both knowledge and skill of a particular subject. But this brings to mind an ongoing dispute that requires attention, with the sad knowledge that the argument will never be solved due to the countless examples and persuasive discourses on both sides of the complex issue. Yet, sometimes it seems that powerful opinions melded with extreme emotions have yielded several generations of musicians committed to one ideal over another.

If I may be so bold as to capsulize what I am talking about, I would say this: performance v. education, which is better and which is right? The argument rages in musical circles at all levels and tends to find its loudest voices in academia. Yet, in my view, it is an argument without merit, perhaps developed by a few musicians incapable of seeing the global benefits of music and its vast influence on the world. Now, now, you say, isn't that a bit harsh? Maybe, but I am concerned that the argument, the division, has created an odd problem that has no solution. The separation of the ideals has resulted in those who do, that is those who perform, waging war against those who teach. And conversely those who teach sometimes having little regard (except perhaps a begrudging but not necessarily admitted respect) for those who perform.

Those who know me already recognize the signs of my writing, a theme I tend to posture often on many different issues: the theme of peace and solidarity, for to teach is to perform and to perform is to teach and to war over which is better is to lessen the beauty inherent in both. As I write this, I am thinking through the upcoming concert I am preparing to perform. I will be playing the Mozart Horn Quintet (called such due to the horn being the unique instrument in the group) with a visiting string quartet. I consider myself an average performer (most performers recognize their own limitations), but I am absolutely committed to communicating the beauty of Mozart to the audience. Since communication is essential to the process of education and educating is moving from the known to the unknown, from the concrete to the abstract, logic dictates that my performance is actually a form of music education, a way to reach people through music.

No, it is not music education in the classic sense (once again depending on one's definition of classic), that is standing in front of a classroom of eager students teaching them the elements of music which ultimately one day lead to an understanding or perhaps the skill to perform music. Yet, in truth, how different is it indeed to perform a Mozart chamber work from telling children about rhythm in music? Both require communication, both are music related, both invoke a higher level of thinking, both require knowledge and skills, both are events that are hinting at more to come, more lands to conquer, and more worlds just beyond the immediate grasp of the learner.

Now back to the argument. It is common in academic circles to hear the utilitarian view, "I am going to get a teaching certificate as a fall back plan in case I don't make it as a performer." Or perhaps the selfish, lofty view, "I would rather perform it than teach it." Or the contentious "I would rather be unemployed than to be a teacher." None of these interest me as a music educator/performer. Knowing that each person has a unique personality, aptitude level, work ethic, I recognize that not everyone is designed to a be a teacher. With that in mind, it seems to me that a student choosing a profession should consider his/her capacity to communicate and assess the role of that ability in a teaching or performing environment.

Furthermore, it is the rare almost impossible situation where a first-rate performer does not do any teaching, and it is the rare situation where a teacher never does any performing. As we meld the two concepts together and create a harmonious yet polyphonic musical world, I find myself urging all musicians to teach, to perform, and mostly to share the joys of music with a world of people wanting and needing music in their lives. Perhaps the problem occurs more with regard to college students and is caused inadvertently by negative music education experiences from the past. If so, it is our job as music educators to create positive experiences that have great influence.

For me, I shall continue to perform and will continue to teach and will present all that I do in music as music education in the highest sense of what education means. It is through education that we reach the children, it is through education that we reach adults, it is education and progress of ideas that moves the world forward and creates refinement. And it is through education, similar to knowing about our rose, that we acquire a greater awareness of how music works--its elements, its beauty, its challenges, and its joys. Music education: the process of teaching that can include performance at all levels.