pas·tiche
Pronunciation: \pas-ˈtēsh, päs-\
Function: noun
Etymology: French, from Italian "pasticcio"
Date: 1878
1 : a literary, artistic, musical, or architectural work that imitates the style of previous work; also : such stylistic imitation
2 : a musical, literary, or artistic composition made up of selections from different works
"Art is anything you can get away with."
- Marshall McLuhan
Recently caught Inglourious Basterds, Quentin Tarantino's latest film. Did I enjoy it? Hard to say. Like his previous works, it crackles with well-written dialogue and an unpredictable storyline, and holds the viewer's attention until the very end. Also like his previous works, it seems consumed almost to a fault with cribbing scenes, themes and plotlines from earlier pictures. Here, Tarantino attempts to mix a spaghetti western with an exploitation revenge flick, and set it during World War II.
LA Times: To say that Tarantino finds this aggravating is an understatement. "Here's my problem with this whole influence thing," he told me. "Instead of critics reviewing my movies, now what they're really doing is trying to match wits with me. Every time they review my movies, it's like they want to play chess with the mastermind and show off every reference they can find, even when half of it is all of their own making. It feels like the critics are IMDB-ing everything I do. It just rubs me the wrong way because they end up using it as a stick to beat me down with."
Once he got that off his chest, however, Tarantino was happy to share, in great detail, some of the key influences on "Inglourious Basterds." "I love having influences because I want people to get excited when they see something in the film or hear me talking about it and then actually go see the movie that inspired me in the first place," he says. "For example, the whole opening scene in 'Basterds' is completely and utterly taken from the first appearance of Angel Eyes [Lee Van Cleef] in 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.' That's why it has that whole spaghetti western vibe.
"So I was really using the whole feeling and mood from a scene in another movie, but what happens is that it becomes my scene with my actors and my way of telling the story and I feel like I somehow make it my own."
Even in the midst of his defense, he seems to briefly forget which side he's arguing. He seems intent on making sure we think of him as a stand-alone artist, which is certainly fair. His quotes seem reminiscent of another modern-day master of artistic re-appropriation:
Pitchfork: As far as the process of matching vocals up with your beats, like when you put Biggie's "Juicy" verse over "Tiny Dancer" or the vocals from "Hate It or Love It" over Better Than Ezra, those pairings work really well but not just because they sound cool-- they really open up another way to access the meaning of the lyrics.
[Gregg Gillis/Girl Talk]: People can judge me on whatever level they think but I've always tried to make my own songs. They're blatantly sample based but I tried to make them so that you'd listen and think, "Oh, that's that Girl Talk song," as opposed to just a DJ mix.
Both artists are concerned (and rightfully so) that people not view them primarily as aggregators of influences, but as creators of new pieces. And that's fair: clearly time, care, and effort have gone into the creation of their art. It seems to me, though, that however one might define "art", it must be, at its most basic, a personal statement. This is the crux of the issue that both Tarantino and Gillis run up against, I would think: the main thrust of the arguments against the artistic legitimacy of what they do.
Girl Talk (cont.): I'm trying to separate myself from other people by having songs that would be considered-- technically-- original things. I don't seek out mashups. I'm associated with the whole mashup movement, and it's too bad because I'm not a huge fan of them.
...but he later goes on to say...
The whole basis of the music is that people have these emotional attachments to these songs -- whether they love it or hate it. Being able to manipulate that is a really easy way to connect with people.
This quote sums up the main sticking point for me, personally. When I listen to a Girl Talk song, am I reacting to the cleverness with which he's chopped his samples, or am I just pleased with my own cleverness for recognizing them and appreciating his juxtapositions? When I watch a Tarantino film, am I more concerned with the story, or playing spot-the-influence?
Tarantino seems better positioned to get away with what he does. Everyone has influences, after all. His prowess as a screenwriter and his ear for dialogue are undeniable, even in the service of messier affairs like Basterds. And ultimately, I think what really bothered me about this film was not the preoccupation with genre-mashing, but the lack of cohesion from the story itself. It seemed at times to be a string of cleverly written scenes in search of a unifying thrust.
Fine, then. As for Girl Talk? Is what he does "art"?
Why not, I suppose? Is Kanye West not an artist because of his reliance on samples? Did Led Zeppelin's blatant thievery from the blues render their output illegitimate? It's a slippery slope, I guess, to start to parse what gets to be called "art". The better (and certainly, easier) question might be: who cares - do you like it?
Yeah. Yeah, I like it.
Whew, I feel better. Too much theory for one day. Time to rock out to some sick mashups...er, or whatever.
4 comments :
You make an interesting point and a compelling criticism to appropriation in post modern cinema (sorry, I’m a student of Collins). It reminds me of an English student who asks his teacher why it's important that Daisy's car is white, a commonly alluded to aspect of symbolism in the Great Gatsby. Should we look at this as a representation of purity and ignorance (and her transition from it), or just an adjective that Fitzgerald picked among many? Fortunately, Tarantino is alive, so we can ask him of his intentions, but I do think it's weird of him to say that he includes references to other films and wants his fans to recognize them, but also doesn't want critics to find references he didn't intend. We can't possibly know the difference, and asking (or in the case of critics, speculating) is really all we can do. I think there are three different ways to look at postmodern cinema (literature, music, art, etc.): Appropriation, allusion, and homage. I think whatever the intention of the artist, he feels it is between him and the work his is paying tribute to, and that relationship feels tainted when others try and dissect it. I'm reminded of a scene in the L Word, when one main character wants to title her first book, "Thus Spoke Sarah Shuster." She is excited when a woman (not to mention a super hot lesbian) gets the reference to Nietzsche, and disheartended when later an English teacher tells her that her title is a witty pun that should be avoided. Incidentally, in this book, Nietzsche elaborates on his theory of "The Gay Science," which is sort of an added appropriation, considering the L Word is the premiere (I am tempted to say only) lesbian television drama. But then again, that could just be a reference I'm manifesting in my own head, which sort of gets back to Tarantino's argument. I wonder where he would draw the line between the two (meaning his intentions and our interpretations), or if he would take credit for unintended appropriations speculated by others. In any case, you clearly got me thinking, so thanks for that.
How am I just now finding this? I thought my sister's shout-out to your vocab was based on something *else*, something not as neat as this.
Annie - Yes, that's my main issue with QT's comments - he wants to have his cake and eat it too in the sense that he wants to be seen as this innovative artist but simultaneously he wants you to know how clever and well-rounded he is for subverting all these obscure influences into his own creations.
Ashley - thought I must have sent it to you already, but our ghostly conversations haven't been as frequent lately I guess. Sorry! Glad you found it!
• Girl-Talk = makes you realize that the parasitic eggs each pop song lays in your head actually hatches into a creature you love, groove with, know all the words to.
• Tarantino's IB = Christoph Waltz as villain of the decade. Eli Roth = poor choice. Story = I didn't get any of the references, but it was still damn good.
• Art = take a little from here, a little from there, synthesize in an original way.
• Austin's blog = money cash hoes. Write on.
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