Capitol Hill Blue Forums Misc. Topics Ain't This America What is distinctive about American art and letters

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Many persons have been mentioned on this thread as paladins of American culture.

Almost all of them are deriviative, or superificial --- or both. [One person even brought up the name of John Wayne! Let me forget that as soon as may be possible!]

Frank Lloyd Wright, Jackson Pollock, the Wyeths, Mark Twain, e e cummings, Robert Frost, Allen Ginsberg, Bob Dylan, Aaron Copland, Alan Hovaniss --- these few are artists who are worthy of deep respect, but beyond them the pickings become slim indeed.

Moreover, European culture has seen many creative revolutions in art, for example, Impressionism. America has been extremely derivative and uninventive, with the exception of jazz and its satellite, rock-and-roll. A rather shaky case might also be made for motion picture technique.

However, if America had produced many times the number of the artists whom I have mentioned, ranking with them in quality, it would still be as nothing compared to the brilliance which has shone forth into the world from Europe.

Starting no earlier than the era when the ill-begotten American Republic was formed, one might mention Mozart and Beethoven in music, and Goethe in literature, who by themselves outshine the whole pantheon of American practioners of their respective arts.

But many Americans, being ignorant, may not have the knowledge to make a just assessment of Goethe. Let us then, almost at random, throw in Shelley, George Bernard Shaw, Aldous Huxley, W. B. Yeats, and Dylan Thomas. They tip the balance decisively in favor of Europe.

As for painting, no one in their right mind would ever rank America's productions with those of Europe! Picasso alone eclipses everything American!

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I would say that Martha Graham, Twyla Tharpe, Bob Fosse and Jerome Robbins are great artists in the realm of performing arts. As are The Dance Theater of Harlem.

I once saw this lady who was a pole dancer at a gin mill in Bossier City, Louisiana. If I remember it correctly her name was "Star"...wait, no, it was "Angel", I think. Or maybe it was "Bambi". At any rate, that woman sure could dance. The audience was captivated. It was so quiet you could hear a five dollar bill hit the stage. Now that was art!

Since that rapturous evening in Bossier City, I've come to believe that opera and ballet would be more meaningful if the women were nekkid. Oh, yeah, and cheerleading.

I'm just saying.

And poetry. Sweet Jesus, would that be better if women were nekkid when they read that crap in front of an audience!

I'm most grateful that poetry is not an American creation. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that poetry was first conceived in the brain of some Canadian wandering around Italy high on mushrooms.

I've actually been to a poetry reading - once. Show me a guy who willingly goes to a poetry reading and I'll show you one desperate sumbitch trying to get laid.

I was tricked into going by an account in Chicago. It was a horrible experience. People clapped and murmured in awe, women cried. It was disgusting, truly. I pretended to have eaten a bad chilli dog for lunch and hurriedly excused my way to the Gents.

As soon as made it to the lobby of the little theater I grabbed an usher and demanded to be escorted to the bar, "quickly". There wasn't one. Or it wasn't open for the reading, fear clouds the memory. I saw two other guys, terror stricken, looking for a portal to reality. I followed them outside and bummed a smoke (I had long since quit). The three of us stood in the cold Chicago night mumbling about fate, trickery and not getting laid.