{"id":643,"date":"2011-11-11T04:51:26","date_gmt":"2011-11-11T09:51:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/?p=643"},"modified":"2011-11-11T04:51:26","modified_gmt":"2011-11-11T09:51:26","slug":"the-van-dyke-parks-interview-part-two","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/2011\/11\/11\/the-van-dyke-parks-interview-part-two\/","title":{"rendered":"The Van Dyke Parks Interview, Part Two"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>\u00a0Continued from <a href=\"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/?p=642\">Part One<\/a>&#8230;<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/musoscribe.com\/images\/vdp_arr.jpg\" align=\"right\" height=\"280\" hspace=\"10\" vspace=\"10\" width=\"280\" \/><strong>Van Dyke Parks<\/strong> has long been more of a \u201cstudio rat\u201d than a live performer; he says that a 2009 tour with <strong>Clare and the Reasons <\/strong>was his first time \u201creally getting out there.\u201d For a number of reasons, the studio has been his focus. \u201cMy mother and my father marveled at the fact that I could put my retirement before my career. While everybody I knew around me was pursuing a record contract and going out and performing, I was staying in the trenches in Los Angeles, working behind the curtain, as it were. People like <strong>Ry Cooder<\/strong> and me, we had no money. We decided that [studio work] would be the way to stay alive.\u201d Quoting the late <strong>Vic Chesnutt<\/strong>, he says, \u201cThere is no shelter in the arts.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">\u201cIt looked like I was a shy, retiring wallflower: no, no no. None of that,\u201d he insists. \u201cI was trying to get my kids fed, the rent paid. And their tuitions paid. Because they were deserving. I worked hard: family first. That was my story, and a very ordinary one. Kind of a yawn. But I was a family guy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">\u201cNow that\u2019s over,\u201d he says. \u201cAnd I have a new chapter. If not now, when?\u201d He goes on to recount two relatively recent gigs that illustrate his willingness to \u201cget out there.\u201d One was \u201cforty appreciative women &#8212; who may or may not have heard of me &#8212; at the Grand Rapids Ladies&#8217; Literary Society Clubhouse\u201d and the other was as the lead performer at Roskilde, in front of 17,500, with a sixty-piece orchestra. He describes the latter as a \u201cvery abstract and profound experience,\u201d but makes clear his preference for \u201cintimate, close-range\u201d performance situations.<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">Reflecting on the aging process, Parks observes that \u201cthe hand is farther from the head every day. That\u2019s what happens. Yet, I still have this desire to do everything I could when I was an \u2018athletic brunette\u2019 at the keyboard. And one of the challenges is to do these songs &#8212; songs that I\u2019ve never promoted \u2013 because there are a lot of unknowns in the process. And just getting through it, to me, brings such great satisfaction.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">Parks agrees that presenting his songs in this stripped-down context &#8212; as compared to the full orchestra treatment on his <em>Moonlighting: Live at the Ash Grove<\/em> album \u2013 shows the songs in a different light. \u201cI think it makes them less formidable,\u201d he says. \u201cThe irreducible minimum is bass and piano. The music I do &#8212; and I hate to say it &#8212; is thick with thought. It\u2019s full of anecdotes. I try to indicate a lot on the keyboard.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">I comment on the expressiveness of bassist <strong>Jim Cooper<\/strong>&#8216;s work, full of sawing attacks that often made it sound &#8212; or at least <em>feel<\/em> &#8212; like a human voice. \u201cThis is amazing,\u201d Parks chortles, \u201cbecause I just met this man twenty-four hours ago! Jim Cooper is a promising musician from Chicago. He drove eleven hours to play with me.\u201d He recalls his recent Australian tour (\u201cI played every damn phone booth on the continent,\u201d he quips) in which he worked with a different bass player every night. \u201cNot one disappointment,\u201d he beams.<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">Rhapsodizing on the uncertainty of playing a hall in which one has never before worked, Parks says he half-expects to find \u201cspinning discs with sawtooth edges\u201d in the \u201cmorgue-like\u201d expanse of the hall. He jokes that concert halls are \u201cabattoirs of inhumanity.\u201d Thankfully, he says, the crowd warms the room up.<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">\u201cThe opening act,\u201d Parks succinctly observes, \u201cis built to bring comfort, and to elevate the room \u2013 hopefully &#8212; for the main act. <em>That\u2019s the job<\/em>. And that flies in the face of all my phobias. For example, my greatest fear, when I look at a room, is an empty seat. <strong>Colonel Parker<\/strong> would never let <strong>Elvis<\/strong> play to a hall with an empty seat. So I was standing there last night, and I looked out and saw that the hall was about two-thirds full. Not three-fourths, but two-thirds. It was pocked with empty seats. I fell into conversation with <strong>Robin<\/strong> [<strong>Pecknold<\/strong>], the leader of <strong>Fleet Foxes<\/strong>, and I admitted my phobia. That\u2019s at the beginning of a show. I don\u2019t mind if somebody walks out in disgust, but give me a chance!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/musoscribe.com\/images\/vdp_rc_tb.jpg\" height=\"287\" hspace=\"10\" vspace=\"10\" width=\"425\" \/><\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">Our conversation turns again, this time to the <em>Arrangements Volume 1<\/em> album. \u201c<em>\u2019Volume One&#8217;<\/em>\u2026what a bunch of chutzpah!\u201d Van Dyke chuckles. \u201cMy favorite part of that album is the essay I wrote for the liner notes,\u201d he says. He has a special place in his heart for the track by <strong>Dino Martin<\/strong> (<strong>Dean<\/strong>\u2019s son), a cover of <strong>Jimmy Cliff\u2019s<\/strong> \u201cSitting Here in Limbo.\u201d Even though he admits some might think of that project as \u201carch kitschery,\u201d Park says he wanted to \u201cpromote Jimmy Cliff&#8217;s work, and get him some authorship residuals.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">More than a half hour in, I ask Van Dyke Parks if I might ask some <em>SMiLE<\/em>-related questions. He pauses, seemingly to gather up a rehearsed reply. \u201cI want <em>not <\/em>to comment on <em>SMiLE-<\/em>the-release. <em>No comment<\/em>. And that speaks volumes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">A bit of silence hangs in the air while I re-collect my own thoughts. Parks again speaks. \u201cYou know, the other day I was having my picture taken by the great photographer <strong>Henry Diltz<\/strong>. And Henry said, \u2018Smile.\u2019 And I said, \u2018There\u2019s nothing to smile about.\u2019\u201d A bit taken aback, I assume that Parks is making an oblique reference to the new album of 44-year old tapes. But in fact, this time he <em>has <\/em>changed the subject, and I struggle to keep up. He goes on to make observations on problems facing the world today: issues like ecology, the culture of greed, and the \u201cinsufficiency of military revenge in an age of guerrilla tactics.\u201d He stresses that he himself has a \u201cdeep sense of contentment, and my wife understands why I\u2019m not prone to smile for pictures,\u201d and that he really is a happy person. Unless someone tries to talk with him about <em>SMiLE<\/em>, that is.<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">Parks offers a fascinating perspective on the role of songwriting. It\u2019s clear he\u2019s given the matter much thought, as \u2013 for the only time in our entire conversation \u2013 his answer sounds a bit like a speech. \u201cSongcraft &#8212; the process of songwriting \u2013 should be one that is immediately empathetic, offering consolation and entertainment on the face, and ripping jugular veins of contentment underneath.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">Parks believes \u2013 as the tired saying goes &#8212; that everything really <em>did<\/em> change after 9\/11. \u201c<strong>Neil Young<\/strong> sang, immediately after 9\/11, \u2019Let\u2019s roll.\u2019 This Canadian native was telling the people of the United   States to go spend money on some bombs: <em>Go get the bastard<\/em>. My first reaction was not, I think, so simplistic. My first reaction was: <em>Why?<\/em> And how can we solve this so it does not plague our children like an ongoing crusade?\u201d Our conversation continues down that path for awhile, and Parks sums up his ultimately hopeful philosophy this way: \u201cPeace is not an unachievable goal in a world of fundamentalists.\u201d He adds, \u201cThis is what I\u2019m thinkin\u2019 about as a songwriter.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/musoscribe.com\/images\/vdp_card.jpg\" height=\"319\" hspace=\"10\" vspace=\"10\" width=\"425\" \/><\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">Oddly enough \u2013 and with no help from me &#8212; the conversation circles back around to Brian Wilson. Ruminating on the songwriter\u2019s fulcrum between \u201cabsolute faith and despair\u201d and how great works explore that, Parks pauses. \u201cI <em>will <\/em>say this: one of the market artists of our time &#8212; someone who represents the public\u2019s fascination with that &#8212; is <strong>Brian Wilson<\/strong>. Because you don\u2019t know whether to laugh or cry when you hear that stuff. And I think that\u2019s what great art can do. Not <em>should<\/em> do \u2013 I don\u2019t know what art <em>should<\/em> do \u2013 and that makes it precious.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">Sensing the tiniest of openings, I pivot back to <em>SMiLE<\/em>, with a question not about the 2011 release, but rather relating to the original 1966 sessions. I\u2019m one of those trainspotters who\u2019s long been in possession of stacks of <em>SMiLE<\/em> session bootlegs, with which I\u2019ve spent countless happy hours. And while I know that the official story holds that Wilson brought Van Dyke Parks into the project as <em>a lyricist<\/em> &#8212; much as he had done on <em>Pet Sounds<\/em> with <strong>Tony Asher<\/strong> &#8212; to my ears, Parks\u2019 (uncredited) fingerprints are all over the <em>music <\/em>as well. What&#8217;s the real story? In the hardcover book accompanying the 5CD\/2LP\/2x45RPM set, right there in black-and-white, it reads:<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\" align=\"center\"><em>All Songs:<\/em> Music by Brian Wilson, Lyrics by Van Dyke Parks.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">\u201c<em>I had a musical role<\/em>. [emphasis mine] My only goal,\u201d Parks insists, \u201cwas to see Brian come back as a functioning musician. That\u2019s [also] why I did <em>Orange Crate Art<\/em> [1995] with him, to prove that he could do it. I feel that I have paid my social debt in full.\u201d<span>\u00a0 <\/span>With that, our discussion of Brian Wilson and all things <em>SMiLE<\/em> comes to a close. But I feel that I got the answer I had long suspected, buried in the shallow yet fertile soil of his reply. He does add a telling postscript: \u201cFriends can be useful things. But that doesn\u2019t mean that they can always agree. And I\u2019ll leave it at this: To disagree is not to disrespect.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">Speaking, I suspect, obliquely of of the touchy subject of <em>SMiLE<\/em> but more universally of life and work in general, Parks makes this observation: \u201cI continue to look through the windshield. The rear-view mirror is a nice reference, but the windshield is what brings me my info. That, and my implausible desire that my best work is ahead of me.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/musoscribe.com\/images\/vdp_bk.jpg\" height=\"319\" hspace=\"10\" vspace=\"10\" width=\"425\" \/><\/p>\n<p class=\"MsoNormal\">&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p align=\"center\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.twitter.com\/the_musoscribe\" class=\"body\">Follow  \u201cthe_musoscribe\u201d on <img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/musoscribe.com\/images\/icon_twitter_small.jpg\" valign=\"middle\" border=\"0\" height=\"18\" hspace=\"1\" vspace=\"0\" width=\"18\" \/>  Twitter<\/a> and get notified<br \/>\nwhen new features, reviews and essays are published.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u00a0Continued from Part One&#8230; Van Dyke Parks has long been more of a \u201cstudio rat\u201d than a live performer; he says that a 2009 tour with Clare and the Reasons [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[41],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-643","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-interview","cat-41-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/643","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=643"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/643\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=643"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=643"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=643"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}