Tyranny is the deliberate removal of nuance—Albert Maysles
I’m often intrigued by the derivation of unusual expressions that have become common in our contemporary speech. I remember being amazed at learning where ‘a wet blanket’ came from, which I’ll leave up to you to search out for yourself. You have AI and Google now, neither one of which existed when I first got curious about this kind of linguistic creativity. But this return to probing the English language was rekindled for me recently while watching a show about warfare at the turn of the 20th century. One of the poor soldiers announced that he would ‘go over the top’, meaning he’d leave his trench to join the fighting. It struck me uniquely because I’d just been expressing my dislike for a performance I’d seen which was so ‘over-the-top’. I realized that all the excesses of that war-time reference were completely appropriate to the presentation I’d seen and rejected. I’ve often commented on being uncomfortable with writing that describes some kind of outrageous behavior that felt unrealistic to me. But why should that matter? I finally figured it out the other night when I was in a 92Y lecture about the work of America’s quintessential composer, Irving Berlin.
These lectures are fabulously engaging and there’s much to learn. But some of the most fun we have is after it’s over, when we have a Q&A with the lecturer that goes on as long as we want it to—as long as we have something we want to say. The other evening, we’d been presented with four different singers (“leading ladies”) who inhabited the starring role of Annie Oakley in different productions. Which one did we like best and why? It was not an easy choice because they were so different, and all thoroughly capable. But I preferred Irving Berlin’s choice initially. I felt one of them was too ‘over-the-top’ in her mannerisms, and that made it harder for me to enjoy the music or even pay attention to it. Later, the lecturer introduced us to a live performance he’d seen in modern times with a country-western star in the title role, and that performance hit the target dead-center! Why? Because the mannerisms, though far from subtle, were much more nuanced without losing any of the color Berlin’s music and lyrics called for. With that less over-the-top performance, the music was still the star, and that’s the whole point.
This discovery made me realize why I’ve always shied away from flamboyance in art of all kinds. If the point of a work of art is about the writing, the dancing, the music, then anything that steals the show is doing the art and artist a disservice. There’s always plenty of room to make a point without going over-the-top. Too bad the soldiers didn’t have that choice!
How do you feel about flamboyance in art? All opinions are welcome.
The Unblocked! Writer