Small pieces of evidence occasionally turn up in unexpected places to help make the case that the Republic has changed in unpleasant and unwelcome ways.
I recently bought a CD (a SuperAudio CD, in fact) of music by a great and undeservedly obscure American composer: Don Gillis, who died in 1978, but created most of his important pieces in the years before and just after World War II. For those who love the jazzy, explosively energetic, lyrical and instantly catchy scores of George Gershwin, or who savor the gentle, nostalgic Americana of Roy Harris (my one time mentor) or Aaron Copland (in his populist mode), Gillis delivers some of the same infectious rewards.
In any event, the new CD provides rousing, gorgeously recorded performances (by a fine Warsaw orchestra, surprisingly enough) of three of the most important Gillis symphonies: Number 1 (“An American Symphony”), Number 2 (“A Symphony of Faith”) and Number 5 ½ (“A Symphony for Fun.”). The handsome 2006 release features notes by a writer named Roy Bono who writes admiringly of Gillis, a life-long Baptist and unabashed patriot, and “the three aspects of his personal credo – love of country, love of God, love of a good laugh – separately or in combination – shining through piece after piece in his large repository of works.”
Bono even quotes Gillis’ own description of the stirring finale of his Symphony Number 1, “An American Symphony” (1941): “The music grows quiet, in the reverence of meditation. Suddenly again is heard the sound of approaching conflict – the struggle – and instead of uncertainty, the music closes on a tremendous note of victory and praise for democracy… symbol of life…liberty…and eternal freedom!”
But then, instead of allowing the composer and his music to speak for themselves, Roy Bono feels the need to apologize for the enthusiastic prose from Gillis. “This may, to our cynical minds, seem like gushingly naïve nationalism,” he writes. “But it’s hard for us today to fairly assess the Zeitgeist of the first half of the 20th century, when the mere sight of the flag could actually bring a lump to the throat, a tear to the eye, of many Americans, so potent and revered a symbol it was.”
I don’t know where Mr. Bono lives, but in the America I inhabit the flag still brings “a lump to the throat, a tear to the eye,” and it’s still a symbol that’s “potent and revered.”
Bono continues with his reflections (written in 2006) on the “lost” America of 65 years earlier that produced the Gillis symphony. “One’s patriotism then was as proudly cherished as, and often intertwined with, one’s religion,” the commentator sighs. “Both were deeply sincere professions of faith almost inseparable from the notion of good citizenship –as apparently they were for the 28-year-old Gillis.”
It astonishes me that a serious music critic would fail to acknowledge that for many, if not most Americans, faith and patriotism still interconnect, and still play an obvious if not central role in our conceptions of good citizenship.
In the New York-centered world that produced this latest album of heart-felt praise to America by Don Gillis (ALBANY RECORDS, TROY 888) the composer’s heart-on-the-sleeve love of country seems hopelessly dated, embarrassingly old-fashioned. That slightly patronizing view of the great passions that animated the life of the Missouri-born, Texas-based, master symphonist represent the only sad note in an otherwise sparkling and optimistic album of tuneful, enthusiastic orchestral celebration. Good music, like love of America, should never go out of style..